The dance of Shiva

black and yellow bird perched on tree branch
Photo by Ray Bilcliff on

Within the snow


The raven-winged worlds of wonder

Become the beginnings and the endings,

The souls who are the one

Soul –

The re-awakening beginning

And the ultimate ending, broken asunder.

The soul of the snow goes

Drifting by on the many rivulets,



Are no one and everyone,

The soft-spoken spirit

Of the call of the night heron,

Floating over the waters

Of the black lake

Of eternity,

Where the boatman

Dips his pole

Toward the far shoal,


Now, with all the children of the stars,

Sons and daughters

Of heaven,

Who are dancing –


The dance of Shiva,

The one Soul.

© Copyright, Sharon St Joan, 2023


green trees near snow covered mountain
Photo by Anon on


To the land of drifting snow –


Many angels.

Black ravens circle


The treetop,

Glinting green.


Stars discern

A faint pathway

To river banks unseen.

Only divinity remains,

Only angels and singing bells,

In the gentle rains

Of spring.

Rocks washed, in the rolling


Of the unstoppable swells

Of the sea;

Tree shadows fade against the sky.

There is no one,

No one at all.

The tangles of time are all undone.

Only the lingering glance

Of eons sliding by,

Only the halo

Of the sacred night,

Only the peace of Eternity,

Only the startling snow,

Only the song of the swan

Has slipped away

Into the gray

Clouds of the pillars of the night,

Where the moon might


The white-crowned sparrow


And the magpie don

Her white robes, worn

In celebration

When the cosmic journey leads on and on

Through calming mists

Over miles of snow forests.

The one who waited to kill

The soul

No longer glimmers,

But is gone,

Into the night-waves of shadow.


The bitter song – of illusion – was never sung –

The notes were never played,

But fell instead into the yawning gap of the abyss,

So the autumn leaves never cascaded

On to the burned embers of time, unborn

With the final hiss

Of the raindrop.

Now, at last, only

The brave, undaunted raven rises

Whose eyes

Glisten wise

In the snow-radiant dark.

Only the real one,

Who soars aloft, ever higher

Over the juniper tree.


The first one,

The only one,

The God of myth

Who sparkles fire

As the bright


Of being,

Riding on the swift ark

Of the moon-crowned night.

© Copyright Sharon St Joan, 2023

Horus – Great God of the Sky — Iseum Sanctuary

Horus is one of the most Ancient Egyptian Gods, worshiped from the Pre-dynastic period (c. 6000-3150 BCE) until the last of the Ancient Egyptian dynasties (600 BCE). Horus was the “Great God, Lord of the Sky,” as well as god of war and hunting. He was usually depicted as a falcon-headed man or a falcon. […]

Horus – Great God of the Sky — Iseum Sanctuary

Anubis – Lord of the Underworld — Iseum Sanctuary

Anubis is one of the most well-known gods in the Ancient Egyptian pantheon. He is typically depicted as a man with the head of a jackal, or as a full jackal. He was often seen accompanying the deceased on their journey through the underworld, ensuring their safe passage and helping to guide them to their […]

Anubis – Lord of the Underworld — Iseum Sanctuary

The Triads — Iseum Sanctuary

The Ancient Egyptians had important groupings of the deities and among these, the group of three deities, Triads, were particularly significant. Two of the most famous triads of Ancient Egypt are the Theban Triad and the Abydos Triad. The Theban Triad consists of Amun, Mut, and Khonsu. Amun was the chief god of Thebes and […]

The Triads — Iseum Sanctuary

Until the hour

ancient megalith structure
Photo by Umar Hamzah Ramadhan on

Until the Hour

Through dim

Years of distain,

On the barren,

Moon-dark steppes, the hero’s

Blade has lain,


In the shadows,

Where regiments of rattling


Skulk by,

Their bones


In the wind, the lights of their eyes


Lugging through the mire,

Their banners grim

All hung with skulls and bells and pelts on wire,

They, the rusted kings,

Who create and re-create

Their soulless empire

Of uncounted deaths

And only lies.

Yet, all the while, the snow lily


Among the rocks

In the rain

Of silver tomorrows

Her petals, ghost-patterned

In the grace-filled land

Where all beginnings

Once arose

In the foothills of the eternal ones.

There gentle flocks

Of dragons,

Hatched of the sea,


In the pure skies

That overlie

The smoking rim

Of time, until

The hour when,

In the quiet, unremarked snows

That slip over oak and briar,

Along the high,

White-hooded hill,

Dragon dreams of standing stones

Walk abroad again

On the earth, and

The sword sings

In the ancient dawn

Of mists and myths.


Written around 2000.

© Copyright, Sharon St Joan.

To remember the days of dragons

close up shot of bees on a flower
Photo by Ricardo Josue Villaseñor Arechiga on

If you were to remember

The birth of dragons

And the times you played among them,

Hearing their feet splashing in the puddles,

Remembering their eyes of fiery emeralds—

If you were to remember,

Then you could run, calling after them,

You could call them and

They would return,

Trailing magic in their silver wings.

Then it could happen that

On the afternoon of a strange Sunday

They could unwind

The obtuse windings

Of the world of men,

Bound up in iron snares,

Releasing fire spirits, air fairies, wise feather-footed owls,

And the innocents entombed for millennia

Into an age of joy,

Where winged bees sing to the flower,

Toadstools dream by the melodious shore,

And the peace of eternal power

Settles over the primeval forest

Green in the darkness of the stars.


Written July 15, 2012

© Copyright, Sharon St Joan

In Honor of Weneg, Mediator of the Gods and Pillar of the Sky — Iseum Sanctuary

Weneg, also known as Uneg, was an Ancient Egyptian God first referenced during the Old Kingdom period (c. 2600 BCE). He was revered as a god of fertility, agriculture, and the renewal of life. The name Weneg translates to “the one who endures” or “the one who is firm,” and he was believed to hold […]

In Honor of Weneg, Mediator of the Gods and Pillar of the Sky — Iseum Sanctuary

Stories of Noah and the Great Flood

birds flying over rough sea
Photo by Tyler Shores on

Frank Joseph, in his fascinating book, Survivors of Atlantis, writes about many stories from tribal sources all over North America, that describe a version of the story of Noah and the Great Flood.

An Iroquois version talks about a land in the far east where an entire people lived. All of them drowned except for one lone survivor who escaped by leaving in a large boat along with many animals. After many days lost at sea, he sent out a dove, who returned from the west with a willow branch in his beak. Every year, the Iroquois featured the dove in a spring festival – which took place when the willow bloomed.

A similar ceremony was held by the Sioux, Chickasaw, Pima, Okanogan, and Mandan. George Catlan, known for his early paintings of Native Americans, wrote about the Mandan ceremony, in the early nineteenth century, noting that it gives an account of the Great Flood that destroyed nearly everyone. Only one man escaped in a big canoe. The Mandan remembered the willow twig which the bird carried in its beak – and that the great flood covered the earth for forty days.

Catlin wrote that he had found this story among 120 tribes that he had visited.  He also noted that many totem poles were said to have been made “at the time of the great flood.”

Both the Hopi and the Algonquin traditions tell of their ancestors being warned that the Gods would sink the land beneath the sea. After this the “Father of the Tribes” built a “great reed raft” on which he sailed away with his family and many animals.

In addition to these Native American stories, recalled by Frank Joseph, there are hundreds of other stories, from cultures all over the world, with remarkably similar details. In the two very well-known versions – there is the Greek account of the sinking of Atlantis in a Great Flood, which appears to be the same story as the Biblical Great Flood, from which Noah escaped after building the ark along with a pair of every animal. Then from the ark he sent out birds, including a dove, to find land.

From India, in the Hindu version, Manu rescues a tiny fish and raises him. He grows up to be huge and turns out to be Matsya, the fish incarnation of the God Vishnu. Matsya, after having been released into the ocean, returns later to warn his friend Manu of an upcoming flood, and Manu builds an ark to save himself and the seven sages. Instead of saving the animals – he saves the seeds of the earth’s plants.

How shall we explain the fact that this nearly identical story is told all over the world as if it were a true ancient event?

Well, there’s only one simple possibility. That is to consider that it may be a true story.

Graham Hancock along with a whole host of other writers have published dozens of very intriguing books suggesting that this is an account of a true event (or perhaps a series of events). During the time following the last Ice Age, the seas rose – perhaps a hundred meters – with the melting of the ice – thereby creating great floods and destroying an ancient, advanced civilization. The rising of the seas at this time is an accepted scientific fact. A few people survived and were scattered across the earth.

It’s worth looking into. You might start with Graham Hancock’s books.

Please note the correction below, in the comment by Dr. Prasad.


© Copyright, Sharon St Joan, 2022