Caroline and Medusa (underground cistern Istanbul, Turkey)
Dark Of Moon*Night of Power
*Festival of Democratic Animism
We have been dancing this past night
in Turkey. June 10th, called
The Night of Power.
“The Quran says in Surat Al-Qadr, We have indeed revealed this (Message) in the Night of Power: And what will explain to thee what the night of power is? The Night of Power is better than a thousand months. Therein come down the angels and the Spirit by Allah’s permission, on every errand: Peace! …This until the rise of morn!”
We are grateful to animate
all proffered metaphors….
at this Jupiter trine Neptune,
Dark of Moon potent time…
I will be reporting in from Turkey…
(*No live call tonight,
all Trickster memberships extended.)
Where here, and everywhere,
we are pondering the proffered direction:
Democratic Animism,
humans spiraling back to be humbly
co-operating with Nature’s Guiding Genius…
Here be our chart, and following some
wondrous ancestral guiding honoring Mystery:
Abe Lincoln: “I care not for any man’s religion – whose dog and cat are not the better for it.”
Rachel Carson: “A large part of my life has been concerned with some of the beauties and mysteries of this earth about us, and with the even greater mysteries of the life that inhabits it. No one can dwell long among such subjects without thinking rather deep thoughts, without asking himself searching and often unanswerable questions, and without achieving a certain philosophy…. Every mystery solved brings us to the threshold of a greater one.”
“Though men in the mass forget the origins of their need, they still bring wolfhounds into city apartments, where dog and man both sit brooding in wistful discomfort. The magic that gleams an instant between Argos and Odysseus is both the recognition of diversity and the need for affection across the illusions of form. It is nature’s cry to homeless, far-wandering, insatiable man: “Do not forget your brethren, nor the green wood from which you sprang. To do so is to invite disaster.”
“Each and all, we are riding into the dark. Even living, we cannot remember half the events of our own days.”
“Every time we walk along a beach some ancient urge disturbs us so that we find ourselves shedding shoes and garments or scavenging among seaweed and whitened timbers like the homesick refugees of a long war… Mostly the animals understand their roles, but man, by comparison, seems troubled by a message that, it is often said, he cannot quite remember or has gotten wrong… Bereft of instinct, he must search continually for meanings… Man was a reader before he became a writer, a reader of what Coleridge once called the mighty alphabet of the universe.”
“We are one of many appearances of the thing called Life; we are not its perfect image, for it has no perfect image except Life, and life is multitudinous and emergent in the stream of time.”
“As for men, those myriad little detached ponds with their own swarming corpuscular life, what were they but a way that water has of going about beyond the reach of rivers?”
“Over the whole earth- this infinitely small globe that possesses all we know of sunshine and bird song- an unfamiliar blight is creeping: man- man, who has become at last a planetary disease and who would, if his technology yet permitted, pass this infection to another star.”
“One does not meet oneself until one catches the reflection from an eye other than human.”
