119453623 © Olga Konstantinova | Dreamstime.com


At the far rim of reality


Stands the wolf, unknown,


Archetype enchanting, ancient spirit,


King of his noble kind


Who pauses, glancing,


Father of the early forest,


Alien to the modern world-mind


That has been spawned and grown


Up from death,


From the killing of the magical ones,


Hence have arisen


All the dank drafts that dally through the restless cage


Of hell.


Yet the wolf remains


Beyond the brittle bell


That sounds this bleary






More real than life or death,


Than the scurrying days that flit


On by like dry falling






Across the desert floor


Bare and stark,


While the wolf stands still – eternal breath,


Blessed being,


Beyond the reach of the gray


Murmuring minions


That practice dark deceit.


Yet now their dreary


Presence wanes,


Soon, gone will they be,


There no more,


Caught up in the fleet


Fires of the ending day,


And still the wolf stands,




Poised to restore his lost domain,


Eternal god, under the blue eaves


Of the sky, on green woodlands,


He who ever was, and is, and is to be,


In the tall, sun-winged forest,


Ringed all around in rising mist


And radiant rains.



© Sharon St Joan, 2018



Photo: 119453623 © Olga Konstantinova / Dreamstime.com




The Storm




When the great ones return


Carrying magic in their wings


Then only the white teeth


Of the concrete kings


Will glimmer


In the pool of death.


Nothing else will sleep


On the stone,


No one slain,


But only


The echo of lies,


The din of malice,


Shed and gone,


When the green waves rise,


Bearing the emerald throne,


The majesty of the deep


Will deliver


Those long forgotten


Hooves of the innocent


To ride


Again on the mountain height,


Spirits of the living tide,


The throat of the lion of wisdom


Will rumble anew,


The rain


Of Indra will crash from


The chariot of thunder,




The forests reawaken to reclaim the earth,


Nothing will be lost then,


Only the masks of terror,


Only the mirrors of untruth,


When wolves dance on the hillside,


And tigers growl


In the blue




With bright eyes that burn


Along the holy way


Of the night,


When spirits return


In the white magic of winter,




On the howl


Of the winds of joy, the songs of sunrise,


In the victory of the horses of fire and snow


That break


Unstoppable, across the broad plain.


A storm to leave in its wake


Only the stillness


Of the lily of eternity


Waving in the sunlit rain,


For the truly living do not die, they say,


But only the walking, dissonant




Only the soulless


Patterns of dismay.


Only the clouds ashen,


When the cosmic, winged mother


Gathers the wanderlings,


The flocks


Of garbled geese


And their errant goslings,


Among the trees of twisted juniper


And the radiant




Bundling all her children,


Into her many-storied home of peace


By the green-banked river


In the haunting bells of dawn.



© Sharon St Joan, 2017


Photo: © Elisa Bistocchi / Dreamstime










© Dhprophotog | Dreamstime.comdreamstime_s_40757480


Coyote, with mystical toes,


Silent as the footsteps of time,


Weaving through the mist-encircled forest,


Elusive she goes,


Shaman, angel, fey,


Spirit from the lands afar,


Outcaste, magic-bent,


Otherworldly guide,


You step from stone to stone,


Through the stream, moon-bright,


Where blue-singing


Fish glide


Through petals whispering in the night.


From milky way,


From star to star,


Among the clouds,


The shrouds,


Of worlds, broken.


You walk on,




From the darkness to the light.


You climb


The hillside


Where rocks ponder and raven-spoken


Rains ride


On moon-painted winds among the echoing


Songs of spring.


© Sharon St Joan, 2016


Photo: © Dhprophotog | Dreamstime.com

Go into the mist

cliffsIMG_7111 2


Go into the mist


Where the great light falls


Where blue flowers gleam


In the winds of dawn,


And the owl calls


Softly, in her deep tone.


Go into the wild where


The one with no name tells a luminous tale


Of the star forest.


Out onto the green hills of peace,


Go where the mists of the mountain meet,


Where the unkempt stream


Grows out of the tall cliffs of stone,


Where the bright feet


Of the moon


Skip on the winged waves of the water, glimmering,


Where mystical geese sail


Along the snow-enchanted trail


Back to the beginning,


To before the great scattering —


Fragmented, broken,


Back to where only the silver song of the loon,


Clear in the white night,


Sings to the peace beyond the realms of being.



© 2015, Sharon St Joan, photo and poem


What if?

© Demid | Dreamstimecliffs on a beach cote d'albatre France.com


By Elizabeth


What if suffering wasn’t part of the plan?


What if God did not create the world. But instead, beckons us live in His.


What if we’re supposed to be having fun?


Not amidst the torment, disease and heartbreak of this world, but in the white light which pierces the mist the moment it occurs to us.


What if the animals, too, are not His creations, but His fellow spirits, imprisoned too by three dimensions.


What if we all could escape?


What if the cell door has never been locked?


Have we all been kept in place by an illusion? The impression that a desk is real but that strange feeling is not?


What if we were to step through? Would we then find ourselves in an unimaginable world, trying to believe in desks? Calling occasionally from the Divine for fantastic moments of “physical intervention”?


What if God has no personality? If He did not get jealous, get angry, or take anyone’s side.


What if He never agrees with you – but is always rooting for your happiness.


What if misery wasn’t a lesson from  God – but a distraction by the jailer.  The hypnotist.  A painful pinch to turn your eyes from the Light.


What if suffering wasn’t a part of anyone’s plan except the Dark One’s?


And God wanted you free from it.


What if healing the physical world was futile without the Light of God? If the dungeon guarantees all victories temporary: a maze, always returning you – and us – to the place where you began.


What if even the most powerful psychic were nothing but a weather forecaster, noting which days we might expect rain and sun – although both will inevitably come. What if the most potent wizard had only the power to choose his day of sunshine.  Which the clouds will still block out in the end.


What if we are all playing an unwinnable game?


A game at which God is not the dealer in the sky.


But the outreached hand, inviting us to quit.


What if we could walk into His world without moving a muscle?


What if there is nothing wrong with us. With any of us. Neither the seal devouring the helpless fish. Nor the polar bear devouring the helpless seal. Nor even the human committing atrocities no other animal would dream of.


What if God forgives us all? And only wants us to step into the Light.


What if there are people and other animals who have already crossed the threshold? Who live and die in joy instead of pain.


What if that is what we are all meant to do?


What if just the thought of it makes the gloomy clouds begin to part ……..



© Elizabeth, 2013


Photo: © Demid / Dreamstime.com / The Alabaster Coast, Normandy, France





The myth of progress, part three

Mapungubwe Hill, a sacred hill in South Africa.
Mapungubwe Hill, a sacred hill in South Africa.



By Sharon St Joan

To read part one first, click here.

And for part two, click here.

Susan Boyle came from a humble background in Scotland; her father was a miner and her mother a typist. Until her mother died she lived with her, and she now lives with her beloved cat.

For years she struggled to achieve some success with her music. Recently, she was diagnosed with Asperger’s Disease, which could explain why her social relationships had always been awkward. Most of her life she had been been subjected to ridicule, and must have endured many unhappy and very trying times — until that one evening, in which, like a rocket leaving the bounds of earth, she shot into stardom.

Illustrating how not to be a victim — Susan Boyle’s is a rags-to-riches story, which, in its own way, is a testimony to the great power of not allowing oneself to remain victimized, but instead, with the help of the angels, of magically overcoming obstacles.  It is  a simple story – she has not transformed the entire world, but it is a remarkable one, and has certainly altered her own life and touched the lives of many others.

Her strength is not only her musical talent itself, but her undying faith in her music.

None of us has to remain stuck in the box that we find ourselves in.

Nelson Mandela during a meeting with Bill Clinton in 1993.
Nelson Mandela during a meeting with Bill Clinton in 1993.

The second example of rising above limitations is Nelson Mandela. A figure on an altogether different scale, he was one of the great men of history, who had a transformative impact on our world. Though he came from a tribal royal family, as a boy, he herded sheep, then became a boxer, then a lawyer. When he was imprisoned for 27 years, spending part of the time breaking rocks in a quarry, it must have seemed to him, that there could be no hope even for his own freedom, let alone hope for any success in his life.

If he had emerged from prison, embittered, to lead his people on a crusade to make his oppressors pay for their crimes, that would hardly have been a surprising turn. Yet he didn’t. Somewhere he found the grace and wisdom to forgive his captors and to lead South Africa beyond the threat of a bloodbath, into the light, to stand as a democratic nation. In the process, he spared the lives of hundreds of thousands of people and avoided a prolonged time of darkness for generations of South Africans. South Africa is not a perfect country. No country is, but it has avoided these catastrophes, thanks to the wisdom and greatness Nelson Mandela.

Neither of these two people, very different from each other in their scope and their impact, is a saint. They are examples of people who did not allow themselves to remain victims, but instead, with the grace of the angels, overcame and rose above obstacles.

We do not have to be victimized by our circumstances, sinking under the weight of our situation, and blaming heaven, the stars, or those around us for the obstacles in our lives.

There is always a higher level, where God, the Gods, the angels, the universe (or whatever we wish to call the spiritual level) live —  and it is from this level that strength can be drawn and magic and miracles can come into being.

To return to the concept of the myth of progress – it would be a great mistake to confuse this higher level of otherworldly strength, inspiration, and clarity, which occasionally breaks through the clouds, with the current, ongoing state of  the human world in which we live.

Were we to put our faith in the “human spirit” or in the “inevitability” of human progress and the advance of human technology, we would find ourselves sadly misled. We ought not to sit waiting for the train of human “progress” to carry us along to utopia, because it won’t.

Many of us, probably most of us, have seen miracles happen – of one kind or another. Miracles are very real. They come from beyond and above the level of this world.

The world does not get better by itself, and, sadly, human nature does not make it better. There is no inevitable progress of the “human spirit.” We are not the culmination of evolution, and we have not, in creating the “wonders of civilization” brought peace and enlightenment even to ourselves, much less to animals and the natural world. Instead we have left a trail of destruction in our wake. And the natural world seems to be reminding us of this regrettable fact through rising tides, catastrophic storms, and other upheavals.

Yet all is not lost, and if – beyond the smoke and mirrors of the image we have fabricated, as a species, of our own success – this is, in truth, a dark hour and a dark age, there is still a real light at the end of the tunnel.

The 12,000 year old megalithic ruins of Gobekli Tepe in Turkey.
The 12,000 year old megalithic ruins of Gobekli Tepe in Turkey.

Consider this – a curtain is being lifted that had long veiled the past. All over the world are being found now, in recent decades, remarkable archeological discoveries that speak to us of great civilizations, with magnificent art and culture, that we did not even know existed, and some are many thousands of years earlier than the accepted dates for the beginnings of civilization. (We will be writing more about these.)

The cyclical view of history informs us that this age of limitations that we live in is neither the only age nor the last age.

The 15 billion year old star cluster M80 (NGC 6093).
The 15 billion year old star cluster M80 (NGC 6093).

There is much, much more to the Cosmos than we know – other levels, other dimensions — more to the past and more to the future.

Our “modern world” is not the pinnacle of creation, it has an ocean of problems.  But as we come to acknowledge this, there are great gates that swing open – to the magnificence and mysteries of the very distant past – and to the possibilities of magic and miracles, both in our own lives and in the world ages that lie before us – possibilities of nearly-forgotten connections with higher mystical levels and the restoration and renewal of the natural world of innocence that we have so nearly destroyed.

As our current world age dims, other lights of intelligence, perception, and clarity—those, older and wiser, who were here before — will re-awaken and shine again.



©  Sharon St Joan, 2013



The thoughts expressed here are personal views that do not reflect or represent those of any organization.

To look at Sharon’s ebook, Glimpses of Kanchi, on Amazon, click here.


Top photo: Wikimedia Commons: This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license. Attribution: Laura SA at the English language Wikipedia / Mapungubwe Hill, a sacred hill in the Kingdom of Mapungubwe in pre-colonial South Africa.


Second photo: As a work of the U.S. federal government, the image is in the public domain. / President Bill Clinton with Nelson Mandela at the Independence Hall in Philadelphia, PA, July 4 1993.


Third photo: Author (photographer): Teomancimit / This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license. / The 12,000 year old megalithic ruins of Gobekli Tepe, Urfa, Turkey.


Fourth photo: “NASA material is not protected by copyright unless noted.” / This stellar swarm is M80 (NGC 6093), one of the densest of the 147 known globular star clusters in the Milky Way galaxy…all of the stars in the cluster have the same age (about 15 billion years)….







George Monbiot talks about rewilding


Below is the link to a seventeen minute, entertaining and captivating talk by ecologist George Monbiot on the concept of rewilding  — using examples from Yellowstone, the oceans, and Europe and painting a vision of what might be possible for the planet.

George Monbiot is a visionary and can perhaps be forgiven for being a little foggy on the details. Some of his suggestions – like putting elephants where they don’t belong – are profoundly mistaken, but the overall concept and the brilliance and optimism with which he presents it are an intriguing vision.

The good part about what he says is that it works best when human beings stop – that is simply stop what they are doing to nature.  One example he gives is the retreat of farming from parts of Europe, allowing nature to resurrect itself when it is left alone.  The parts where humans are doing something, like moving animals around, sound a lot less like a good idea.

Overall, it is a fascinating view of a future that is perhaps possible.  In the war between the earth and human “progress,” might the earth win in the end?


Thanks to Pamela Gale Malhotra of SAI Sanctuary for letting us know about this. Website: www.saisanctuary.com

Photo: Mike Cline/Wikimedia Commons / “I, the copyright holder of this work, release this work into the public domain.” / “Lamar Valley Wolf, Yellowstone National Park, August 14, 2011.”


The Bay of Bengal
The Bay of Bengal


The boy who


On the sea swell

Like a rainbow fish on the wave,

Your face,


Radiant as the ancient moon, unseen

Beyond the present cosmos,

Deep blue, the petaled lotus,

Swift, your hurled discus;

Salt tides murmur in the humming strain

Of the conch shell.

You float by on the branch of a green


Your smile an enigma,

Sad, yet ever glad


You drift off to sleep.

Who are you,

Lord of the shadowy sea

And the moon-risen grace?

Who are you

Walking out from the edge of the brave

Woods, dense and deep,

At the dawn

Of all the time-tilled rings?

You sail on the wings

Of the great dark swan,

Or dream on the white coiled train

Of Adi Sesha,

Who will be

The only one to remain.

You carry the key,


To the tall

Stone gate,



You are the singer of the song,


Of all the notes gone


And all

That await

The shining rain-lit moment,

An era yet to be.

© Sharon St Joan, June 12, 2013

Photo: Sharon St Joan

The World of the Vedas




“Vedic Mythology” was written by A.A. Macdonell and first published in German, in Strassburg in 1897. In 2000,  it was republished by Low Price Books in Delhi.



It is an in-depth study of the Rig Veda, the oldest book in the world, and of many other ancient Sanskrit works – a compilation of all that is recorded in early vedic descriptions of all the major gods; celestial gods, terrestrial gods, atmospheric gods, even abstract gods.



All is carefully catalogued, with footnotes giving all the sources, and exact accounts of how many times each deity is referred to with which attributes. It is a remarkable book.



Since the Rig Veda is amazingly poetic, the section of Vedic Mythology, for example, that describes Dawn, whose name is Ushas,  describes her as “the most graceful creation of vedic poetry.”  Ushas is young, though ancient, since she is born anew every day; clothed in light, she shines now and will always shine; she is immortal. Awakening the four-legged animals and causing the birds to fly up into the sky, she removes “the black robe of night” and sends away the darkness. As a resplendent being, her beams of light are like herds of cattle, and she comes to be known as the “mother of cattle.”



Many of the other gods are also living elements, like Agni, the God of fire. He faces in all directions and is said to have a burning head. Possessed of wings, he flies, and is portrayed as a bull, a horse, a divine bird, or the swan Hamsa, and once, as a raging serpent.  Shining like the sun, he destroys darkness and can see through the gloom of the night.  Driving away darkness, he is called the “goblin-slayer.”  There is much, much more about Agni, who is worshipped as one of the most sacred beings and who is invoked in at least 200 hymns of the Rig Veda.



Surya is the sun, represented sometimes as a great eagle or a brilliant horse. He is the eye of the sky and is said to be the Lord of Eyes, the one eye that can see beyond the sky, the waters, and the earth. As an all-seeing being, he casts away illnesses and evil dreams.



Hundreds or Gods are portrayed in the Rig Veda, in some of the world’s most beautiful and inspirational poetry.



The world of the Rig Veda is a living world — the Gods, the elements, the forces of nature are alive, awakened, conscious beings who interact with each other.  It is a cosmos filled with beauty.



One might contrast this with the universe as we are given to see it today, with our modern, “scientific” worldview — where there is a presumption, unfortunately, that nothing that is not organic is alive.  All the stars, the galaxies, the supernovae, the quasars, comets, Oort clouds, dark matter — all that we see out there with our giant telescopes is somehow missing something.  It is gigantic, immeasurable, vast beyond any imagining, and yet there is something not quite all there. We are told that none of these great beings are conscious — nothing is really alive in quite the same way we humans are. Some will concede that animals may have some sort of “lower” consciousness, but the prevailing view is that really it’s pretty much us as humans, who seem to be at the pinnacle of creation, as far as consciousness goes.

Map of Vedic India


There seems to be something radically amiss though with this view of the universe.  It could almost remind one of the pre-Copernican days when Europeans believed that earth was the center of the universe, with the sun and all the other heavenly bodies revolving around it.  Well, here we are again, with humans placed at the center of the universe — not this time at the physical center, but, at a central place in terms of consciousness.  Only we it seems, can look out, over the millions of galaxies and consciously contemplate the universe.  No one else, we are led to believe, can be as aware as we are.



This, however, is a remarkably unsatisfying view of the universe. Except for sizzling hot suns and unexpected super explosions that come about now and then, the universe as we currently view it, is cold, dark, immense and unfathomable — in short, not very friendly.  This seems to bother even scientists, and one wonders if a certain cosmic sense of loneliness is not at the root of the perpetual search for life on Mars — the billions of dollars spent and the amazing engineering feats of sending all the rovers to look for life or water or something that could be evidence of life.  Then there is the search for habitable planets among nearby stars.  Around 600 planets have so far been found, that could, it seems, harbor life, and the majority of scientists now believe that there is little doubt that there is life on other worlds — whether these are ‘higher” life forms is not so certain.



Simply put, we as humans do not wish to be alone.  An unfathomably vast “dead” universe strikes us as somehow not quite right.



In his introduction to “Vedic Mythology,”  A.A. Macdonell writes, “The basis of these myths is the primitive attitude of mind which regards all nature as an aggregate of animated entities.”  A.A. Macdonell, who was born in India of European parents, was an extraordinary scholar who wrote a brilliant and amazing book about the Vedas. Nonetheless, if we step back a moment, we can see the picture of a European gentleman who, while studying a civilization that has existed for at least 5,000 years, and possibly for many, many thousands of years before that, made the observation that the current age (including 1897 as part of “current” time) in which we live is “superior,” while the brilliant, poetic, and immensely wise civilization on the ancient Indian subcontinent was somehow “lower” or “primitive.”



How exactly it was “lower” is quite hard to see.



Perhaps there is something to be said for the concept that the universe is truly an alive, dynamic, amazing place, filled with Gods and great beings, that the stars are divine, that the forces of nature have their own form of consciousness, not in any way “lower” than ours.  Perhaps we have all this while been mistaken about the nature of what we call “progress.”  Perhaps we are not the pinnacle of creation after all.  Perhaps the cyclic view of the ages, believed by virtually every culture other than our own — that first there is a golden age, and that each succeeding age represents a step down on the scale, until we came to the final age, which comes to a close, and then we return to an age of brilliance, kindness, compassion, greatness, and heroism – perhaps this cyclic view is the true view — the Gods are real, the forces of nature are alive and aware, the animals are innocent, magical beings, and the universe is far more wondrous than we have been led to believe. Perhaps that is the real reality.



Top photo:  Wikimedia Commons / Source: http://www.atributetohinduism.com/Hindu_Scriptures.htm / This work is in the public domain in the United States, and those countries with a copyright term of life of the author plus 100 years or less. / Agni, god of fire, shown riding a goat, in a miniature painting from an 18th century watercolor



Second photo: {{PD-US}} / Source:http://www.columbia.edu/itc/mealac/pritchett/00routesdata/bce_500back/vedas/surya/surya.html / “This image (or other media file) is in the public domain because its copyright has expired.” / Wikimedia Commons / Surya receives worship from the multitudes; Tanjore School miniature painting, 1800’s “A Painting of Surya. India, Tanjore School, 19th Century. The nimbated Sun God depicted upon his chariot surrounded by attendants with smaller figures at left in obeisance.”



Third photo: Wikimedia Commons / This file is licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.           

Attribution: Dbachmann / Map of northern India in the late Vedic period.



Fourth photo: Source: http://www.britishmuseum.org/research/search_the_collection_database/search_object_details.aspx?objectid=3080760&partid=1&searchText=indra&fromADBC=ad&toADBC=ad&numpages=10&images=on&orig=%2fresearch%2fsearch_the_collection_database.aspx&currentPage=1 / {{PD-Art}}  {{PD-US}} / circa 1820 / Wikimedia Commons / “Painting of Indra on his elephant mount, Airavata. Painted in South India (probably Thanjavur or perhaps Tiruchchirapalli)…”


What if?



As December 21, 2012 approaches, there are a few who await the end of the world, and many more who dismiss such thoughts as being silly, and others who just hope that nothing unexpected or out of the ordinary happens.


Is the end of the world such a bad thing?  And what would it mean?  Certainly, massive cataclysms and terrible destruction would cause immense suffering to people, to animals, and to the earth.  Suffering on any scale is a bad thing, and whether or not any good comes out of it, we all seek to avoid it.


There have been cataclysms both recently and in the past, and one can only suppose that there may be more to come – with or without an end to the world.  Perhaps there will be an intensity of disasters, we have no way to know.


But what if the end of the world also has another meaning?  As we all realize, we live in a world that, at the very least, has many flaws, and at the worst, is a realm of extreme suffering for many beings.


What if the world and all of history, as far as we know it, is like a vast carpet being unrolled and stretched out?  Now we have come to the end of the unrolling, and it is time for it to be rolled back up again – to go back to the beginning?


All the myths of the world tell of ages in the far, remote recesses of time, that were not mundane and prosaic, but that instead were magical, that sparkled with life and positivity.  Of course, being “rational, modern people,” we dismiss these myths as being pre-scientific, irrational, and based on superstition.


The truth is though, only some of us dismiss these myths as mythical. There are those among us who, though we may not always say so publicly, hold a radically different view.  Some of us, though we may not openly acknowledge it, do believe in magic, in miracles, in the mystical, in the visions and dreams of ages long past when the world was not boring, not prosaic, not humdrum, not filled with conflict and degradation – not, in fact, increasingly cruel and distasteful.


What if this great carpet, when it has rolled out to its end, simply begins to roll back up again?


For example, what if, instead of disappearing from the face of the earth, all the great forests begin to grow back?  I understand that the damage has already been done and that it is very severe and irreparable, in any normal, sensible way of seeing things.  We are so used to a world in which human beings are winning the war against nature, where the trees and the plants have no defences at all against the inexorable march of “progress,” though how it can be called “progress” is a great mystery.  How can a world of steel and concrete be “better” in some way than a world of forests?  But what if, by some magic stroke of a great wand, humans were simply no longer able to wreak destruction on the natural world – no longer able to cut down trees or to replace magnificent, ancient forests with shopping malls, parking lots, and garbage dumps?


What if the Amazon filled up again with trees?  And all the forests of North America came back? And all the forests of Europe and Asia too?


Or what if humans no longer had the capacity to pollute the oceans and destroy the lives of the fish, the whales, and the sea creatures?  It would take a while of course for all the pollution that’s already happened to deteriorate and stop causing death and destruction in the oceans, but perhaps some kinds of bacteria and enzymes would evolve to eat up all the plastic junk and horrible toxic substances.  Then the sea creatures could live in peace and freedom again and swim in clear waters among the graceful plants of the seas.


What if all the farm animals; the cows, the chickens, the geese and ducks, the turkeys, the pigs, and the lambs were never killed for dinner?  What if instead they roamed the hills, among the great trees, or swam in blue lakes?  There are a few logistical problems, unfortunately, because modern farm animals are no longer adapted, as their ancestors once were, to living in the wild. So there is not a simple, easily seen solution as to how and where they could live.  But the point is not that we have all the answers, which certainly we don’t.  The point is simply that the way farm animals live currently, mostly on factory farms, is profoundly cruel and that the world should not subject all these billions of innocent animals to such an unkind fate.


A different world is needed – not one that is just a tiny bit better – but a different one altogether – a different situation – one in which the human-ruled world as we have known it, has come to its end, and there is a new world filled with magical animals that fly on the wind and graze on green hillsides – perhaps with dragons too, breathing fire.


An end of persecution is required – an ending of the persecution of all of nature, all animals, and the earth – and along with that end — assuming there are still some people living on the earth — the ending also of the persecution of tribal peoples, of the extinction of their languages and their culture, and ending of the persecution of all those who suffer at the hands of those who seek to subjugate the earth – the ending of wars, of economic injustice, of the persecution of women, of the young, of the old, and the disabled.


An entirely different world is needed, not an improvement of this world, not a updated model of the same thing, but instead a world where the sacred and the spiritual are alive, well, and recognized – a world that is in touch once again with the cosmos – with God and the Gods, with magic, with life and inspiration, with innocence, a world which has broken free of the bonds of slavery and the constraints of the gray misery that this current time has descended into.


Perhaps this may be what is meant by the ending of this cycle and the birth of another – the great rolling back up of the cosmic carpet, back to the beginning.


Despite all apparent evidence to the contrary, we do sometimes have a sense that the rule of tyranny and hatred, which seems so well established, will not endure forever – that, instead, the destruction of all that is innocent and sacred, will be brought to an end, perhaps sooner than we could imagine – and that there are transformative powers, immense currents, and great winds afoot in the cosmos that we cannot see or know, but that are there, all the same, and very real.


Top photo: Author: Wolfgang Sauber / Wikimedia Commons /http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Maya-Maske.jpg / National Museum of Anthropology in Mexico City. Maya mask. Stucco frieze from Placeres, Campeche.


Second photo: Author: Snezana Trifunovic  http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:Tsnena  /  Wikimedia Commons    http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Biogradska_suma.jpg / old growth forest in Montenegro


Third photo: Author: Jon Sullivan / Wikimedia Commons / “This work has been released into the public domain by its author, Jon Sullivan. This applies worldwide.” / Waves on the ocean coast


Author: Lea Maimone http://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/User:LeaMaimone/  Wikimedia Commons / http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Brahman_Baby.jpg / Brahman calf