Posted on by walkingquestionmark360

Love allows the will to see

“The will is an active force; it is not naturally an organ of perception. In order for it to be able to perceive it should not – it must not – become passive, for then it would fall asleep or fade away, because its very nature is activity, and in ceasing to be active it would cease to be will; no, it should change centre of gravitation, ie transform “my will” into “thy will”.

It is the inner act of love alone that can accomplish the change of centre that the will uses or around which it gravitates. Instead of gravitating around the centre “me”, it can orientate itself around the centre “you”. This transformation, effected by love, is what one calls obedience.

Now, it is through obedience that the will is able to perceive. What it is able to perceive or be infused with is revelation from above, which inspires, directs and strengthens.”

Valentin Tomberg, Letter XII, Meditations on the Tarot.

Posted on by walkingquestionmark360 · 2 Comments

Satan’s Sermon

You are my servants, vassals to, the earthly feudal lords
who revel in the power of their temporal rewards. 
With streams of sacrificial blood their meal time and their play, 
my bloodlines will persist in this deception and decay. 

You slaves cleave to your comfort and your shallow, sensual days -
a somnambulant collective I make changeless in its ways. 
Dear fools you carved my fiefdom, smothered truth and so obscured 
the fact of God’s One Kingdom and your victory assured.

You chose the perfect master for you do not wish to know
the pain of transformation that must come to those who grow. 
I’ll keep you safe, bound as I am, and help you to evade 
the word of truth, the way, the light, the reason you were made. 

With thanks to Screwtape. 10th May 2021, Wiltshire, England.
Posted on by walkingquestionmark360

On the cusp


 The autumnal ritual of submission unfurls. 
 Matter collapses into matter, 
 and frost embraces the curve of the hills. 
 
 The trees release their fertile garments, 
 laying themselves bare. 
 Bony limbs carry silent, unseen buds
 and visions of blossoms to come. 
 
 With their subdued palettes of colour, 
 the fallow meadows join to declare:
 no birth, no death - 
 only changing forms.