Journal of the Western Mystery Tradition
No. 13, Vol. 2. Vernal Equinox 2007
Are you there my Blushing Bride or have you lost your way? Is that you up ahead? For I do not recognize you amidst such folly. Where was it you stumbled, what caused you to sway? And where are your prophets to rekindle the flame?
The dim glow of your candle can barely be distinguished at the end of the tunnel.
You are like a ship lost at sea alone in the dark, going around in circles
always missing the mark.
Lush palaces and mile long halls once opened wide to greet you. Noble kings and princes bowed their heads to meet you.
For years you endured through an incredible plight. Through tears you stood up and fought for what's right. But look at you now trembling with fear. Have you no heritage, have you forgotten your name? And where are your merits, have they all disappeared?
No fancy facade can disguise your barrenness, no towering spire can overshadow your lowliness. Your walls are shaking, your foundation is cracked: Fragile as an eggshell the blocks were stacked.
With humility you rose, in vanity you'll fall. But what's you going
to do when the Master calls?