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Rép. : [anthroposophy] Where is everybody?

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  • danifyou@tv.videotron.ca
    Dear Jan, You incredibly speak much ether-net My life itself almost always! Not Narcissus - do I look at birds; Jan speak about that concern; Am I to feed the
    Message 1 of 1 , Dec 31, 2003
      Dear Jan,

      You incredibly speak much ether-net
      My life itself almost always!
      Not Narcissus - do I look at birds;
      Jan speak about that concern;
      Am I to feed the squirrels that she talks
      Parallelling the very happenings to my amazement...;
      Late autumn I didn't tell you but I surprised
      One being proud-walking away
      With a Sunflower in his mouth!
      Was it for decoration or for a couch somehow?...
      What for - as it was a seedless sort!
      Was it an Aesthetical one??...

      Sometimes even "pro-feat-to-come" Jan talks!
      For I also got bitten not long ago
      By such a furry who was rather hormonal!
      I guess I too had to have that experience!
      To a lesser degree as I shook my finger out;
      Released myself from the teeth-jaw-mouth,
      No blood has emerged as a result!

      Coming back in the actions-present...
      Yesterday after having thought about
      Bradford's post regarding Bush
      And the Fanged Caterpillar and the Noise;
      Similar a pattern-'stimulus' this time an engine
      I remembered in the cult classic movie
      'Texas Chainsaw Massacre' - running...
      So following the snake trail I recalled
      A Baudelaire's poem called 'The Serpent's Tooth'.
      I kept it in mind much all through the night
      Up to this morning when I was coming back
      Home an image had stayed of my replacement
      Pal of the day shift; something usually unseen,
      For kept underneath his shirt nobody sees
      It ever; but today 'twas Polar different...
      I first thought what he had as a pendant
      Looked like a horn; t'must be the ivory of an elephant...
      But then I had some doubt as(ked)
      From which animal
      It was coming from...
      Was it a bone, was it amerindian?
      No! crowned with gold was there the tooth of a Lion!
      His uncle gave it to him when he came
      Back from the African continent!
      And now-lo-here we gather as One
      Amidst the Golden; with Jan
      The Lady Most Heart-Wonderfully Anthroposophical!

      Simulteanously just finished to read this;
      Perfect summary - Soulful Spirit Mood us -
      Though it's been authored earlier-20 decades,
      It reaches right the Essence of Jan's Utterance!

      "And thus let us, by light and life,
      hesitate no longer, but accelerate
      each according to his own mind,
      that great development to which
      we were called. Be worthy of the greatness
      of the age and the fog will vanish
      from your eyes; and there will be light
      before you. All thinking is a divining,
      but man is only now beginning to realize
      his divining power. What immense expansion
      will this power experience, and especially now!
      It seems to me that he who could understand
      the age - that is, those great principles
      of general rejuvenation and of eternal
      revolution-would be able to succeed
      in grasping the poles of mankind,
      to recognize and to know the activity
      of the first men as well as the nature
      of the Golden Age which is to come.
      Then the empty chatter would stop
      and man would become conscious
      of what he is: he would understand
      the earth and the sun.
      This is what I mean by the new mythology."

      -Friedrich Schlegel


      Danny

      ----Message original -----
      De : Jan<starbirdgarden@...>


      Where is everybody?
      Here we are! Without this ether-net many of us would not have met at all
      in this life. We are thinly spread, but that is no cause for concern.
      Think potency! We are the homeopathic, bio dynamic dose!



      Follows a poem by Manfred Kyber.

      Sunrise

      You child of man, there comes an hour
      When all your lamps are dark,
      Your bright fires hold no spark
      And withered droops its head each scented flower.

      When pleasing fancies flee your keeping,
      There are no ties to bind,
      No more tears can you find
      To fill those eyes weary with over-weeping.

      You child of man, there comes an hour
      When all your lamps are dark,
      No laughter leaves its mark,
      No life entices, no star shines. No power

      Left for the temple you would build
      Deep in Eternity.
      It sinks in infinity
      Into the grave, its altar robbed, is stilled.

      You child of man, there comes an hour
      When all your lamps are dark.

      This is the time. Go, beggar, seek,
      In beggar's guise, in whole
      Loneliness of soul,
      Go trace your path to mountain's highest peak.

      There fall upon your knees and fold
      Your hands; holy this ground,
      No name, no word resound.
      Where no beginning and no end are told.

      Around you, darkness, solitude.
      You are alone, alone;
      Alone you are, alone...
      Then watch and wait, obedient, subdued.

      You must watch and you must wait.
      One day your angel brings,
      With beat of mighty wings,
      The key to the eternal Garden's gate.

      The sun aflame with fire - its own -
      One day, one day will shed
      Light on the mountains' head.
      He comes to you - you are no more alone.

      The Sun has risen. You may see,
      Flooded with light - Christ Jesus - this is HE.

      Manfred Kyber (1918)


      And one day, we also, face to face, around the great love-fired Hearth
      of the World will sit at hearts-ease, having walked the plank of Earlyfire's
      egoic I-ron sword; plunged strangely deep to fathom what we may, taken the
      shipwrecked flotsam'd horizon path of God's own current, freely willed and
      lucent star steered, returning through pearl'd gates of tears that also
      spark rainbows when looked through sunwise. Bradford and Harvey will regale
      us with saga and harvest tales of earths new hero-reaping, and Minstrel
      Danny will bring us words that are really music. Juan will offer us stars,
      Maurice risen, holy oil for altar-ing lamp, Christine the Gold of love,
      Joksu Rings that have turned lemniscate and every single one, each precious
      soul we have ever met in this risen sub etheric dredging, each one who has
      read and pondered will stand and speak, or offer silence as balm for wounds
      won journeying. Believe me, that time will come.
      Love, Jan




















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