Blue Spectral Hand/ Blue Lunar Storm - Rhythmic Lizard Moon of Equality, Day 19

Navajo Sand Painting Mandala.

Common Blue

Their eggs are laid on lupine. Tiny jade

hairstreaks I could easily mistake for dew.

Too precious. Too incidental,

and besides that, blue, these trills that flounce

in my potato patch, drawn

from dryland origins to the domestic

stain of water from my hose.

What an old woman would study, I think

as you hand me the guidebook, distracted

by the replica of a parasol

growing out of a bleached cow pie.

The Siamese kitten with his butterfly eyes

comes running, his mouth full

of swallowtail, his breath smelling of borax

and sugar I have poured

over the ant hills in the garden.

He is young and intent on eating poison.

We bushwhack through Paradise,

what is there to say except to lament

the daily evidence of its passing.

How the common blues scatter from my shade.

And you, so fragile, so sick, so thin,

your diet restricted, keep pointing out

the bearded face of larkspur.

When the angels fell, a fifteenth-century bishop says,

there were 133, 306, 668 of them.

It takes us all afternoon to cross the field.

The body, it is so sad what happens to it.

If you fell, you would dry up instantly.

But these are not angel wings

who disguise themselves as leaf or shred of bark,

who are named after the stops

in meaning our language must make room for:

the comma whose wings look battered,

or the violet underside of the question mark.

To keep the mind from clenching, you say,

is the main thing. Even the most

beautiful days always seem to have death in them.

As Valentinus said; our fall into love and sleep.

You especially like the dark alpines

with their furred bodies and lack of marking.

And the sulphurs, yellowed scraps that fall

from a myth of origin that doesn’t include us.

When we find them, we will wonder

who is still alive. We speak of our souls with such

surface ease. But who will take such care for us?

You bend and bend to the scrappy blue sea,

your back turned to the moon fluttering above you.

I have been thinking so much of strength

this week, yours and mine, I mean,

the field of attention that can be strengthened.

 Melissa Kwasny

MANIK

Kin 167: Blue Spectral Hand

I dissolve in order to know

Releasing healing

I seal the store of accomplishment

With the spectral tone of liberation

I am guided by my own power doubled.

As a force of evolution, Cosmic History provides everything you did not look at in your rear view mirror because you were going too fast.*

*Star Traveler's 13 Moon Almanac of Synchronicity, Galactic Research Institute, Law of Time Press, Ashland, Oregon, 2014-2015.

www.lawoftime.org

www.tzolkincosmology.com

Visshudha Chakra

White Planetary World-Bridger/ White Magnetic Mirror - Rhythmic Lizard Moon of Equality, Day 18

Mictecacihuatl - Goddess of Death & the Underworld.

The Death of Isis 

After the Death of Isis

I knew that I could die no more

For All that Death did offer

I drank thereof before –

Down in the Depths

With the Goddess wild –

Down in the Dark

With my broken Child –

I stayed with Her

I ate with Her

Consuming the Ashes

Of Death – in – Life

Until again I rose

In Beauty and in Grace

I bid farewell

To the Worst – to the Best

Death forever in me known –

Fear forever put to Rest.

©Kleomichele Leeds

CIMI

Kin 166: White Planetary World-Bridger

I perfect in order to equalize

Producing opportunity

I seal the store of death

With the planetary tone of manifestation

I am guided by the power of timelessness.

Through telepathy the art of nature expresses herself, in geometries of sound and triangulations of light.*

*Star Traveler's 13 Moon Almanac of Synchronicity, Galactic Research Institute, Law of Time Press, Ashland, Oregon, 2014-2015.

www.lawoftime.org

www.tzolkincosmology.com

Svadhistana Chakra

Red Solar Serpent/ Red Cosmic Earth - Rhythmic Lizard Moon of Equality, Day 17

Quetzalcoatl, Plumed Serpent.  Codex Telleriano-Remensis.

What Is Good

Out of the water call

my luminous breath,

into the bird, intending serpent, red,

who shakes himself, white,

out of that forest body, black.

Red gourd head spirit of the bush,

your breath is speech;

your speech is ordinary, pure.

I take you from the blue

glass of my sacred windows,

I ring you cold upon my father’s weights.

I would cook and save you

in my body’s house alone, light

you in the useless prism of my own desires.

I hold you in the yellow

parchment of my soul’s hand.

Once I took your body for the shape

of all I walked upon, your god’s voice

for the second of all my light.

But now I count my sins against

the ordinary syntax of my days.

Bird of the hard wood,

I would transcend the dog

and fox of my father’s prayers,

the corn, the monkey, lion and the seed

cut crudely by the cross in gold,

the black figures of a Christian death.

Bird, so you would change,

and flutter in my mother’s eyes.

And in my mother’s eyes

still bodies have rhythms of their own.

The light of dead hearts, my governors,

leads my body to a stillness.

I speak of stillness, and you see

I still grip your rhythm to my body.

Rhythm of my shade, an elephant skin.

Rhythm of my hat, the llama’s hair.

Rhythm of my coat, the cactus’ beard.

Rhythm of my trousers, silkworm web.

Rhythm of my shoes, pig hips.

Rhythm of my seat, the heart of a tree.

Rhythm of my hands in the beads.

Rhythm of my hands in the cleansing water,

of my eye in the perfect form of stillness,

the perfect light of my mother’s ecstasy.

Composed, I am saved

by my mother’s reason,

my neighbors’ needs,

my will to go beyond the stillness

of my gods’ dreams.

Luminous breath,

teach me compassion for this

my complex body.

Jay Wright

CHICCHAN

Kin 165: Red Solar Serpent

I pulse in order to survive

Realizing instinct

I seal the store of life force

With the solar tone of intention

I am guided by the power of birth

I am a galactic activation portal

Enter me.

Obstructions are self-created impediments of the mind; if it seems as if something is stopping you, step back and shift focus.*

*Star Traveler's 13 Moon Almanac of Synchronicity, Galactic Research Institute, Law of Time Press, Ashland, Oregon, 2014-2015.

www.lawoftime.org

www.tzolkincosmology,com

Ajna Chakra

   

Yellow Galactic Seed/ Yellow Crystal Warrior -Rhythmic Lizard Moon of Equality, Day 16

Chicomecoatl (Seven Serpents). Aztec Goddess of Agriculture.

Without Regret

Nights, by the light of whatever would burn:

tallow, tinder and the silken rope

of wick that burns slow, slow

we wove the baskets from the long gold strands

of wheat that were another silk: worm soul

spun the one, yellow seed in the dark soil, the other.

The fields lay fallow, swollen with frost,

expectant winter. Mud clung to the edges

of our gowns; we had hung back like shadows

on the walls of trees and watched. In the little circles

that our tapers threw, murdered men rose red

in their clanging armor, muttered

words that bled through the bars

of iron masks: the lord

who sold us to the glory fields, lied.

Trumpets without tongues, we wove lilies

into the baskets. When they asked us

what we meant by these, we’d say “mary, mary”

and be still. We lined the baskets on the sill

in the barn, where it is always dusk

and the cows smell sweet. Now the snow

sifts through the trees, dismembered

lace, the white dust of angels, angels.

And the ringing of keys that hang

in bunches at our waists, and the sound of silk

whispering, whispering.

There is nothing in the high windows

but swirling snow,

the glittering milk of winter.

The halls grow chill. The candles flicker.

Let them wait who will and think what they want.

The lord has gone with the hunt, and the snow,

the snow grows thicker. Well he will keep

till spring thaw comes. Head, hand, and heart—

baskets of wicker, baskets of straw.

Eleanor Wilnor

KAN

Kin 164: Yellow Galactic Seed

I harmonize in order to target

Modeling awareness

I seal the input of flowering

With the galactic tone of integrity

I am guided by the power of elegance.

You will develop complete sensitivity to everything in your environment; everything you experience is mental data.*

*Star traveler's 13 Moon Almanac of Synchronicity, Galactic Research Institute, Law of Time Press, Ashland, Oregon, 2014-2015.

www.lawoftime.org

www.tzolkincosmology.com

Muladhara Chakra

Blue Resonant Night/ Blue Spectral Eagle - Rhythmic Lizard Moon of Equality, Day 15

La Novia del Legionario. Frederico Beltran-Masses. 1923.

She Walks in Beauty

She walks in beauty, like the night

Of cloudless climes and starry skies;

And all that’s best of dark and bright

Meet in her aspect and her eyes;

Thus mellowed to that tender light

Which heaven to gaudy day denies.

One shade the more, one ray the less,

Had half impaired the nameless grace

Which waves in every raven tress,

Or softly lightens o’er her face;

Where thoughts serenely sweet express,

How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.

And on that cheek, and o’er that brow,

So soft, so calm, yet eloquent,

The smiles that win, the tints that glow,

But tell of days in goodness spent,

A mind at peace with all below,

A heart whose love is innocent!

Lord Byron (George Gordon)

AKBAL

Kin 163: Blue Resonant Night

I channel in order to dream

Inspiring intuition

I seal the input of abundance

With the resonant tone of attunement

I am guided by the power of vision.

Within the single thoughtform called "universe" there exists an infinite potentiality of structures and mediums of expression.*

*Star Traveler's 13 Moon Almanac of Synchronicity, Galactic Research Institute, Law of Time Press, Ashland, Oregon, 2014-2015.

www.lawoftime.org

www.tzolkincosmology.com

Sahasrara Chakra