Light

On a whim I decided to try my hand at poetry, and what I came up with , I feel may better describe the heart of the Golden Dawn tradition and the Holy Guardian Angel than anything I could write in an intellectual capacity. Although it has some strong Thelemic tendencies, I think it is still inherently rooted in the Golden Dawn. It is tentatively called "Light".

It was perhaps to be expected
When I crossed into that something,
That something which is nothing,
But moved as something moves
And breathed as something breaths,
Finding within that nothing - everything!
Whose heart is everywhere,
Whose skin is nowhere,
Whose blood drips down to bespeckle
Dust but does not die,
But instead survives to witness
The pale stars grow cold and fade
And crusted dust and stones
Groan their heavy groans
And groan, "I die,"
Always behind me, but never far,
Always promising but never there,
Echoing questions but never a reply,
That he whom I called "I" would cease.
Never regret this ceasing
For undoubted, unquestioned, evident,
I, a new "I", is born to take the place
Of this old dying ox,
A young calf, born of lead,
A Golden Calf burning red on the horizon
Under the mantle of Nuit!
Never regret as the apes chasing snakes
To bruise their heads regret when I go,
For I go not to hide away in shame,
(Shame, surely there is no better word for death),
But rather I go to greet forever
The yellow face of the East,
Wet with morning tears brought forth from joy.
Those regretting apes, shivering,
Trembling at the shadows of the air
Let hands fall from bloody faces.
The Dance, Oh yes! They dance
Upon seeing the rays of my face.
"He has returned to us again
Pray never to leave!" But no...
Much as I may long to loiter
And embrace my love forever,
She could not bare it!
Her soft skin may parch and crack
Even as it basks in my own love
Much as she begs, I know,
The East is found in the West.
And perhaps she will one day learn
That in leaving her I have returned.