Hi there my friend,
Our New Moon
Ceremony last weekend was so
uplifting that I cannot resist sharing
some of our sacred circle inspiration
with you. When was the last time that
someone read poetry to you? Or told you a
story about a moment in their life that
moved them to tears from being in the
presence of exquisite beauty? How long
ago did you feel true joy tingling in
your body just from being alive on our
beautiful planet?
On Beauty
by Khalil Gibran
And a poet said, Speak to us of
Beauty.
And he answered:
Where shall you seek beauty,
and how shall you find her unless she
herself be your way and your
guide?
And how shall you speak of her
except she be the weaver of your
speech?
The aggrieved and the injured
say, “Beauty is kind and
gentle.
Like a young mother half-shy
of her own glory she walks among
us.”
And the passionate say,
“Nay, beauty is a thing of might
and dread.
Like the tempest she shakes
the earth beneath us and the sky above
us.”
The tired and the weary say,
“Beauty is of soft
whisperings.
She speaks in our
spirit.
Her voice yields to our
silences like a faint light that
quivers in fear of the shadow.
But the restless say,
“We have heard her shouting among
the mountains, and with her cries came
the sound of hoofs, and the beating of
wings and the roaring of
lions.”
At night the watchmen of the
city say, “Beauty shall rise with
the dawn from the
east.”
And at noontide the toilers
and the way
farers say, “We
have seen her leaning over the earth
from the windows of the
sunset.”
In winter say the snow-bound,
“She shall come with the spring
leaping upon the
hills.”
And in the summer heat the
reapers say, “We have seen her
dancing with the autumn leaves, and we
saw a drift of snow in her
hair.”
All these things have you said
of beauty.
Yet in truth you spoke not of
her but of needs unsatisfied.
And beauty is not a need but
an ecstasy.
It is not a mouth thirsting
nor an empty hand stretched
forth.
But rather a heart enflamed
and a soul enchanted.
It is not the image you would
see nor the song you would hear.
But rather an image you see
though you close your eyes and a song
you hear though you shut your
ears.
It is not the sap within the
furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a
claw.
But rather a garden forever in
bloom and a flock of angels forever in
flight.
People of Orphalese, beauty is
life when life unveils her holy
face.
But you are life and you are
the veil.
Beauty is eternity gazing at
itself in a mirror.
But you are eternity and you
are the mirror.
