UTHRA RISE

"The perverse games of the gods have been played too long on the body of the goddesses."

-- R'AZEL

CHAPTER 32

"I don't care if he saw me in the dream. My time isn't up yet. He was standing in a bathroom. He was looking in a mirror that unfolded like a scroll revealing his life as a soul that was mated to a dragon. Several penises he had acquired through various incarnations were lying on the counter. He stared at us in amazement. We laughed at him. He didn't understand our reptilian nature. We were aspects of the Dragon Mother. When woman was made, we were attached to keep her in check, too make sure she kept leaving her light in the world; thereby diluting her power. The more she dispersed her moisture, the more I could crawl through her mind. We snaked about her in her dreams. Michael saw a truth he didn't want to realize. The world he lives in is a world of women who think they are men because we are attached to them like penises. I know he is looking inward, with sword in hand, with wings unfolding but he thinks it's a dream. My time isn't up yet. My venom does not leak out as much these days. His light transmutes my venom. I am not ready for non‑existence. Men place a straw in his sexual organ to attempt to drink his light. Later, they lay at his feet weeping to him as a Black Madonna. He is taking away our food supply.

A dragon lamenting

Michael stood at the table. Should he sit down or walk away quickly. "I guess I seem nervous." He rubs his hands together. "This is a big step."

"Don't be afraid. If you're afraid, the spirits won't come close. I've done this many times. Until you are more experienced, do not try this yourself."

Michael. To himself as Marie starts chanting. "Am I ready for this? Will I be like Marie? Will I be able to look at people and interpret the crossroads they are standing at? Will I be able to speak with benevolent spirits all the time? Can I get the true 411 on what it is I am supposed to do? Will I open some doorway and be plummeted through it willingly, unwillingly? What if the spirit just looks at me, have a good laugh and leave? What if I'm not all that good inside and someone's playing a cosmic joke on me? I am afraid of the Unknown, knowing the Unknown, being looked at by the Unknown, having them look at me. What if evil truly exist? What if I'm evil and I've been fooling myself too long? What if I can't handle facing the dark? What if the dark handles me? Will God find me in time? Is this the way for me to get to All There Is? What spirit was going to come through? Man? Woman? Both or neither? Totally dark? Half dark? Half light? All the way light? Would I know them personally? Would I rather not know them personally? Will they make it a habit? How often do I have to be a cleaner for a soul to get light?

Marie. "When you help a spirit get light, it helps to bring more light to yourself? This is a part of the work of a spiritualist. You must help spirits to gain more light than they can help you achieve your spiritual goals. Not only will you help them to cleanse themselves but they will cleanse you also. I sense you are ready. Don't worry I've done this many times before. First breathe deep several times. I will do some prayers. You say prayers that you want to say and tell me everything that you see."

"As I approach the throne of power, beauty and might, I throw about myself for protection the thought of the Christ."

"Tell me everything, keep praying. Keep praying to God. Pray from the heart."

"Dear God, it's me again. I'm not sure if I'm doing the right thing or the wrong thing but I want to be in the light, help me to stay in the light of God. I want this to happen. Help me bring someone else light. I want to devote my life to you. I pray that thy will be done in me Lord. Let thy will be done in me. Let me be thy servant. Let thy will be done through me in all things. Pause. Marie I'm having trouble breathing."

"Don't be afraid a spirit is coming close."

"It's getting warm. I can't breathe."

"Don't let fear grab you. Tell me everything you see."

"I'm dizzy. No I'm spinning inside. I can't breathe. I can't breathe."

"Breathe through your third eye."

"I can't. I don't know how."

"Breathe through your third eye."

He didn't understand it. He felt like there was no air coming in. He focused his attention to his third eye. It's that middle place in the forehead that Marie told him would awaken and would give him the sight. He wasn't breathe as he normally did but through his third eye. Guess this was a normal thing he thought when you are ‘passing the spirit.'

"I see a blue light. It's getting lighter. There's a white light. I feel it coming closer. There's a buzzing in my head. I feel so dizzy."

"Put both your hands over the bowl. Pray, keep praying."

"Please God; let me be in the light. I'm afraid of the dark without you. I sense a spirit is coming close. Let this spirit pass within and cleanse itself. Let the hand of God move across me."

"I see a tall man carrying a briefcase, he is wearing a hat. He's dressed in white. Do you know him?"

"I can't even see him." Pause. "I don't think so."

"He knows you. He is standing close and he sense that you want him to pass through but he doesn't know how yet because he is a new spirit."

"I want him to."

"He says you know a great secret."

"No."

"What is the secret?"

"There is no secret."

"What is the secret? What is it Michael? What is it Michael? What is it?"

"There is no secret. I don't know what you are talking about."

"What is the secret?"

Michael's body began to rock back and forth.

"Who are you," Marie asked.

He continues rocking back and forth. Marie senses a power emanating from him. "This body is not yours. Who are you?"

His eyes opened, flashing a white light, his voice was melodic, feminine, "I am from the Great Life. I will not die!" He closed his eyes, and a pain that could not be measured in human terms erupted, "No!"

Marie is scared but doesn't want Michael to know this. Something like this had never happened before. Yes, the Yoruba Gods had come through before; she has witnessed this but never knew of this entity who professed to be from the Great Life.

Marie got up and stood behind Michael who is still in a trance. Michael feels dizzy and then it seemed he fell backwards out of body but yet in body. His consciousness was turning counterclockwise.

 

"I don't feel like myself," he replies in his normal voice.

"Tell me everything," she said.

"Someone is here. Someone is inside of me."

"Who is it?"

"I don't know."

"Who is it Michael? You know."

She slaps Michael hard across the face. Tears are streaming down his face. He opens his eyes. She hugs him closes as he cries uncontrollable.

She is scared. The tears that are racking his body are not just his tears. She feels they are the tears from many of his other lives. What has she done? She has awoken something ancient, something powerful, something very sad and in pain.

 

"I don't feel the same," Michael says attempting to regain composure, pulling away from Marie. He stands up, begins pacing the room. She says nothing as she is studying him. His movements are different. Even his features seem more feminine, the quality of his nature has an otherworldly quality. "Something is different. I feel so different. I am me but I am not me. Something is different Marie."

"Tell me everything you feel."

"I am here yet not here. Something is happening inside of me. It's like I can reach out. The Voice is calling me. But I am the Voice that is calling me. How do I know that? Can't you hear the Voice, Marie? It's so beautiful."

His voice started to fade. Marie got nervous momentarily.

"Michael!" She started shaking him. "Michael, you must come back. Come back."

 

Why do I weep like a child pulled from its mother's breast?

Why do I wander in and out of eyes leaving dreams and stories

and yet, there is no ending, only torment in little rooms

that became the past that is a final destination instead of direction?

Why do I suffer when the tree is full of fruit

and I am curled around its trunk empty, scratching

in the dust for nourishment as my face is in the mud.

Why am I hurtling through the Heavens as a fiery stone

and no water, no tears can put out the flame

as I scorch the lands that hold my selves?

I make the desert I walk in to lament my madness

as I stand in solitude to hear the pain

Am I still suffering from the First Reflection when

I did not welcome the Stranger but turned aside

when this beggar asked for a coin, some food?

Now, I weep as my child weeps for the breast

because I am Life who must know Death

to know the First Reflection

while I am the spaces between the worlds.