Ophian Songs and Invocations
Held in the Arms of Sorsajna (1)
No one belonged here more than you.
Sorsajna’s fire lives within you still. Whose support do you require when you are upheld by the very forces of life? No gods or chieftains need to carry your destiny. You require no idols against which to measure yourself.
When every memory throbs with the pain of what might have or could have been, you are held in the arms of Sorsajna. Neither of you can ever leave the other.
Follow the voice that fills your heart and mind with the flame of life, illuminating its possibilities, scattering its sparks in countless dreams and passions.
Sorsajna—all that exists—forever discovers and expresses itself as you. It dances within every portion of your being, every step you make, even as it spurs the seasons and their turnings. To discount your own divinity is to belittle divinity itself.
You are held in the arms of Sorsajna."
Shai-win’s Affirmation
There's no greater Divinity than where it
fumbles forward with your fingers
in the fertile dark
Gropes ahead with your light as its verdant sun
Peers out of your eyes at its
immaculately muddied reflection
Suskhana’s Song of Awakening
“It is safe to awaken,” the flowers say
My home and thought-body are one
My heart-soul hums
Lands and people echo
My essence joins Sorsajna
See! It names me anew!
Lalai in daylight,
Suskhana in twilight
Dreams birth all landscapes
and horizons
And there go my thoughts: See them growing
Reminding me of promises made to myself
Sorsajna, Suskhana, and Lalai are one!
The Wind’s Bride
If I am the one who must
be the wind’s bride
The one in whom Sun and Moon
both confide
Will they call me their savior,
or will they greet me with scorn?
Will I fulfill the great promise
for which I was born?
The road is uncertain
No maps have been drawn
The fire in my eyes can be
frightful to look upon
And who’s there to meet me in
those most-secret places?
What bodies can abide
all those high, airy spaces?
Foul Hymns of Evinrais
(I)
This air chokes all inspiration.
Mortal breath is quickly spent.
What conveys your throat's hoarse cry
when strength and will are rent?
There is no passion in these flames.
Your pyre burns too slow.
Life will never open its arms
Why not just let it go?
(II)
Come ye hither; touch this place
where your dreams come to die
Kick up dust while you've still got feet
There’ll be time enough to fly
Oh, when he shed these clothes,
these paltry veils,
and your eyes pierce tainted skies
It's all yours, now: the smiling fate
in an endless, churning sea
I smell your pain, and love's demise,
but it belongs to you, not me
Know you not this ancient play?
You’ve seen this game unfold
You want to grasp the moment, but you're
too young and then too old
Kick up dust while you've still got feet
There'll be time enough to fly
when you shed these clothes,
these paltry veils,
and your eyes pierce tainted skies
Ode to Raven
Teach me your airy pathways, Raven.
Lend me your eyes.
Every night, I come home
under a different sky.
Coyotes howl from all corners at dawn.
Manitohs warpath the sun.
But I fear no blisters
on your natural contours.
Your winds and I are one.
We soared a thousand lifetimes today.
We were born to wander all shores.
From the salt-tang breezes of Sequana
to the lost treasure caves of Lanore.
Serpentine traveler in whose skin I’m born
I can never bear to linger.
There's no safe port save for where
the cagey Sophryne
gives a wink and points a finger.
Bird of prey, you smell me.
You hover for scraps of skin.
Who taught me that I trespass
upon this ground I was born within?
Wind wails history too old for my mind
but my bones recall all the names.
Blessings on arroyos that foot this land.
Blessings on the shadow that remains.
My mind seizes wonder
And Raven takes flight
over water-rich dreams
and desert climes
‘til there’s no more shoreline in sight.
Colleen’s Evocation
Life's mystery and promise elude us in the places where they’re most often sought: in chemical soup and cosmic debris, frozen strictures, and high-flying dogmas.
Listen, rather, to how the universe speaks in the surge of a parent's pride in a child's first steps and words. A miraculous promise finding its feet. That young one's cry of wonder at spring's first violet or a sparrow alighting on the sill.
Love in the eye, recognizing the grace in another. Never repeated, never to be replaced. Love in a still hour, bridging lifetimes and worlds. Embodied once and for all in the cherished being whom the soul's eye descries in a forest of drifters.
And when life's unseen currents sweep people into a quiet sanctum, and their hearts alight with recognition, awakened by that specific glance and smile, that unique timbre in the voice of the beloved—
Who lifts the Veils from your eyes when doubt casts its glamour upon your star-spun grace—
Peering past a thousand facades to find the face you hold in trust—
In night-sea journeys where only the heart's GPS is unerring—
Walking side by side to that sun-speckled pinnacle or deepest caves warmed by the lambent well—
Wandering awestruck into a world still wet from the dream that birthed it—
Hail, Sorsajna! Source of all! Your satyr hooves sink deep into verdant red earth, and your fingers curl skyward!
We’ll dance within your primrose circle as your meadow bowl in eternal springtime uplifts us like cupped hands, bearing its twin treasures: freedom and permission.
Permission to be fully ourselves. To be this world's mirror. To be love's reflection in the eyes of another.
As the whole human panorama of joy, uncertainty, struggle, and victory tumbles forth in the wake of our footsteps. As we surmount the mountain’s pinnacle, pledging our fidelity.
“To share my home, knowing you already carry it with you.”
“To share my life because your presence was its missing piece.”
And the path winds to a place consecrated by trust, where we all join hands, proclaiming, “Let it be this union, this peace and community, that announces to the world what the road stretched out before us already knows: that we will walk it together.”
—Former Customer