The Harvest (parts 1 and 2)

"New wine must be poured into new wine skins." (Luke 5:38)

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Still another angel, who had charge of the fire, came from the altar and called in a loud voice to him who had the sharp sickle, “Take your sharp sickle and gather the clusters of grapes from the earth’s vine, because its grapes are ripe.” The angel swung his sickle on the earth, gathered its grapes and threw them into the great winepress of God’s wrath. They were trampled in the winepress outside the city, and blood flowed out of the press. (Rev 14:18-20)

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The Harvest.

Destruction's Creation of the Soul (part 1)

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A "cluster of grapes" my ego be,

atop the vine of life's destiny;

a libation to God awaits an Angel,

the fiery Seraph harvesting Souls.

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Id energy of libido flows,

from the reservoir down below;

the wellspring of life's battery,

biological source of instinctuality.

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Ideas inflated with id energy,

self-define the ego identity;

thought-bubbles all agglomerated,

filled with libidinal life created.

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Beliefs, worries, and ideation,

complaints, answers and questions,

fixed opinions, plans and fears,

hope, memories down the years.

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We learn to think so powerfully,

controlling nature on land and sea;

but death is half the answer too,

energy of mortido, the final blow!

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New wine of alchemical rubedo,

the sacrifice of letting things go;

"great winepress of God's wrath,"

gathers-up life's blood from earth.

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Red energy of death's exSpiration,

deflates my ego's ripe balloons;

life exhausts into emptiness,

sunyata of the Buddhist's wish.

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Unlearning feels like annihilation;

death's blow hides a secret inflation;

fills a thoughtless Bubble or Halo,

mortido rebirths the ideal Soul.

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Flaming winged Byzantium Seraph ("burning one") with Halo of eternal Light.

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"It is death for the Soul to become like water.

This cosmos is and will be an eternal fire. 

The Soul is an exhalation that perceives, it is different from

the body, and always flowing." Heraclitus, 535-475 BC.

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"The Great Serpent Mound is a 1,348-foot-long, three-foot-high prehistoric effigy mound located on a plateau of the Serpent Mound crater along Ohio Brush Creek in Adams County, Ohio. The serpent head has an open mouth extending around the east end of a 120-foot-long hollow oval feature. Scholars posit that the oval feature symbolizes an egg or the sun." (Wikipedia).

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The Harvest.

Incense for a Soul (part 2)

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Divine Smoke I must somehow make,
with incense my Soul to inflate;
my old skin has two lungs formed,
a "new skin" is from one Breath born.
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Spiral, Wave, and Particle behaving,
the Cosmic Serpent writhes, co-creating;
the human coil unfolds life's energy,
from the id reservoir of instinctuality.
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The archetypal pattern of Eros guides,
from lust to love the libido rises;
molds the id into bubbles of thought,
ideas inflated with Wind of Spirit.
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Ego identity is thus self-defined,
the ideational structure of the mind;
an agglomeration of globular notions,
emotionally-charged energy in motion.
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Mental matter of these lead balloons,
weigh down the Spirit, earth fallen;
bright ideas and "light bulb" moments,
become brain farts as age dements.
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Mental waste must be voided too,
ideas grow stale, must be renewed;
the id inside ego to be deflated,
mortido, the death blow incensed!
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The Wave of life becomes an Ebb,
Thanatos takes over toward the end;
crushes the grapes of experience,
we lose our marbles for a "new skin."
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The Soul ideal awaits realization,
filled with Pneuma of death's creation;
fire is the prelude to eternal Light,
baptismal flames, the Soul's dark night.
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Spirit's Wave sealed into an Orb,
Dragon into a Pearl fire-forged;
the Wind of the Holy Ghost burns,
Seraph puts on the Halo earned.
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Mortido's unlearning via the void,
lightens us up to transcend the world;
bearing the blow of death's destruction,
refines the Wine of life's production.
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And so a thoughtless Bubble births,
from Pan's airy Breath on earth;
through the mind journey of ideation,
green Osiris to Ra's golden inflation.
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O wrathful power of sweet demise,
how you comfort as my ego dies;
my thoughts go up in Holy Smoke,
into the "Cloud of Unknowing" home. 
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Osiris journeys through the underworld and
 transforms from a vegetation god into the
Sun god, Ra; green to gold, water into fire.
Note Ra's ouroboric halo, the Serpent solarized
into the Sun. He holds an ankh with a loop or
ru through which the divine breath is blown,
hence ruach, spirit.
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