Hymns to the Star Goddess

* Caileadair Etana

Hymns to the Star Goddess

for Arianrhod and Nuit....

August 9 , 2007

XX ... Twilight

Posted at 22:00 EST

Twilight... and in a few brief moments the Stars will begin to peep.

I will await Thee, here amid the heather, O Beloved.

I wait...no stars appear for a mist has stolen up from the foot of

the mountains.

Thus I waited for a sight of Thy Star Body till the cold damp mist

of suppressed emotion chilled my being and my reason returned.

The woman stood girt with a sword before me. Emotion was overcome

by clarity of perception. Then did I remember Thy words: the Khabs

is in the Khu not the Khu in the Khabs. Worship then the Khabs and

behold my light shed over ye.

Thus turned my thoughts within, so that I became concentrated

upon the Khabs---the Star of mine inmost being. Then did Thy Light

arise as a halo of rapture, and I came a little to lie in Thy bosom.

But I offered one particle of dust---and I lost all in that hour.

Such is the Mystery of Her who demandest naught in sacrifice.

The twilight is returned.
1449

August 4 , 2007

XIX ... Dropped Dew

Posted at 22:45 EST

As I came from tending the Rose Garden and was about to return to

my humble shelter, my eyes caught the gleam of dropped dew like a

tiny trail along the path.

It was very early; the Sun had not yet re-arisen; the Stars

still twinkled faintly in the sky.

Who could have come before me to the Garden?

I followed the trail of dew, stooping down so that I saw in

each crystal drop the reflection of a tiny star.

Thus came I to my lady's chamber; she it was who carrying roses

had left this silvery thread as a clue to her hiding place.

When I found her, her eyes were closed, as she pressed the fragrant

the pink blossoms to her white breast.

Then did I bury my face in the blossoms and I saw not her eyes

when she opened them in wonder.

Thus, too, would I follow the Star-trail of Dropped Dew, ere

the re-arisen Sun hides Thee from me, O My Beloved!

Thus would I come to Thee and bury my face in Thy Breast amid the

Roses of Heaven.

1448

Nor should I dare to look into Thine eyes, having discovered

Thy secret---the Dew of Love---the Elixir of Life.

pink

March 29 , 2007

XVIII ... The Rainbow

Posted at 17:00 EST

As I sat in the shelter of the forest glade, my eye caught the
multi-coloured gleam of diamonds. I looked again; the Sun rays were
playing upon the dew which clung to a little curved twig.

It seemed like a tiny rainbow of promise.
Then, while I watched in wonder, a small grey spider bridged the
arch of the bow with his silken thread.

Ah! My Beloved, thus, too, hath the Spider of Destiny woven his
silken rope from extreme to extreme of the Great Rainbow of Promise.

Fate hath fitted me as an Arrow to the String of Destiny in the bow
of the Sun.

But Whose Hand shall draw that Mighty Bow, O Beloved, and send me
upon fleet wings to my resting place within Thine Heart?

1447

December 30 , 2005

XVII ... The Infinite Within

Posted at 17:00 EST

I would that I were as the feminine counterpart of Thee, O
Beloved; then would I draw the Infinite within.

Yet since Thy Pure Being must ever be more refined than this body
of mine I should interpenetrate every part of Thee with my living flesh.

Thus, O Beloved, should we enter into a new and more complete
embrace: not as of earth wherein the male uniteth with the female by

means of the physical organs of love, but with every atom of my
being close pressed to every atom of Thine---within and without.

Then, O beloved, would I cry unto the Lord of the Primum Mobile
to teach me the Art of the Whirling Motion of Eternity.

Thus, whirling within Thee, our never-ending nuptial feast shall
be celebrated, and a new System of Revolving Orbs be brought to birth.

Ah! the shrill cry of Ecstacy of that Refined Rapture---the Orgasm
of the Infinite Within.

1446

November 16 , 2005

XVI ... Purple Mill

Posted at 22:00 EST

The delicate purple mist streams up from the hills: I watch and wait for the meaning of it all.

Sometimes it seems like the incense smoke of Aspiration ascending towards the Sun---giver of Light, Life, Love and Liberty to the Children of Earth.

But the Sun is going down behind the Mountains, and Thy Starry Lamps glow in the Sky.

Is not the Lamp above the Altar a symbol of the Desire of the Higher to draw up the lower to Itself?

So, O Lady of Heaven, I liken the Mist to the life-breath of Souls who pant for Thee here below.

And I remember Thy words:
Above, the gemmed azure is The naked splendour of Nuit; She bends in ecstacy to kiss The secret ardours of Hadit.

The winged globe, the starry blue, Are mine, O Ankh-af-na-khonsu!

1445

I, too, would ascend as a delicate purple mist that steams up from the Hills. Art Thou not all Pleasure and Purple?

November 14 , 2005

XV...The Icicles of Isis

Posted at 21:00 EST

XV ... The Icicles of Isis

It hath been written how the Old King dreamed of his banished
peacock, entombed in a palace of ice, who cried: The Icicles of Isis are falling on my head.

Thus it is with those who are banished to the Palace of the Moon----
for the Word of Sin is Restriction.

Oh! Lady of the Starry Heavens, let me not become frozen at the touch of the cold Veil of Isis. For the Moon is but the dead reflector of the Sun, and He but the youngest of Thy Children of Light.

Let me lift Thy Peacock Veil of a Million Starry Eyes, O Beloved!

Show Thy Star Splendour, O Nuit; bid me within Thine house to dwell!

1444

September 11 , 2004

XIV....The Well of Stars

Posted at 22:00 EST

XIV ... The Well of Stars

I know a hidden well of clearest water. Naught but the coping
of delicate pink onyx is visible until the secret spring be touched.
Then beware! For above the entrance hangs a fiery sword.
Few find this Well or know its Secret; there are but two roads
leading thereto.

From the broad Mountain summit we may search the slopes for a vision
of the Woodland Delta where grow the Trees of Eternity, or we may
journey through the Valley between the Ivory Hills---if we fear not
the purple shadows and the black pit-fall.

From Thee we came; to Thee may we return, O Well of Living Stars!

May 16 , 2004

XIII ... The Finger Tips

Posted at 20:00 EST

XIII ... The Finger Tips

            Or, it may be, O Beloved, I shall discover the imprints of Thy
finger tips amid the flowers or upon the Black Earth.

            Hath not Nemo a Garden that he tendeth? Doth he not also labour in
the Black Earth?

            Who knoweth when Thy hands may grasp me and draw me up into Thine
arms, there to nestle at Thy breast, to feed upon the Milk of the Stars?

            Beloved, verily this tending of the Garden of the World---although
          the labor may seem heavy---leadeth to a Great Reward. As Thou hast
          said: "Certainty, not faith, while in life upon death, rest,
ecstasy." Nor dost Thou demand aught in sacrifice.

           What do the Bhaktis know of Love? They see the Beloved everywhere.
            But when I am one with Thee, O Beloved, I shall not see Thee, for
I shall know Thee as Thou art.

1443

April 24 , 2004

XII ... The Invisible Foot Prints

Posted at 22:00 EST

XII ... The Invisible Foot Prints

            Long have I roamed the Earth delighting in the Good, the Beautiful

          and the True; ever seeking the spots where these seem to be most

          Perfect.

            There is joy in this wandering among the flowers of life, but Thy

          Joy, O Beloved, is to be desired above all.

            Now I seek a resting place, I am set upon a new Quest, to Worship

          at Thy feet.

            For it is written of Thee: "Bending down, a lambent flame of

          blue, all touching, all penetrant, her lovely hands upon the black

          earth, and her lithe body arched for love, and her soft feet not

          hurting the little flowers."

            Oh! That I might discover Thine Invisible Footprints upon the Earth

          and there come to the Understanding of Thy Being, O Beloved.

1442

April 13 , 2004

XI...the Moral

Posted at 21:00 EST

XI ... The Moral

There is another moral to the story of the little bird. Having
gained his desire for a larger cage, he forgot his longing for Freedom.

The door remained open; the room was before him, wherein he
could stretch his wings and fly.

Yet he preferred his cage.

The wide world might have been his had he known how to use it, but
he was not ready for that, he would have perished of cold had I let
him out into the wintry snow.

Let those who would travel the Mystic Path remember this:
Earth Consciousness is an illusion and limitation. When it frets us,
like a little cage, our chance for greater freedom comes.

But when a larger cage is offered---when we obtain Dhyana---let us
not rest there thinking ourselves free. The door is open, Samadhi
lies beyond, and beyond that, when we are ready for it, the Real
Freedom, Nirvana.

O Lady of the Stars, let me not content till I penetrate the
ultimate bars and am Free---One with the Infinitely Great as with the
Infinitely Small.