“The assumption that animals are without rights and the illusion that our treatment of them has no moral significance is a positively outrageous example of Western crudity and barbarity. Universal compassion is the only guarantee of morality.”
a white-tailed deer drinks from a bird bath, which was presumed to be of exclusive use of songbirds — especially, eastern bluebirds, on the land the author occupies Halloween 2024 “all treatery, no trickery”
Regular firearm, deer hunting season began yesterday in Michigan, United States of America, and the crack of rifles and the blast of shotguns destroy both peace and life.
after weeks of near-drought, there came a life-bringing rainstorm,
and so Neith from her realms, overnight, joined in world-building, world-weaving with her Earthly kin
laying gossamer highway across the tree canopy, the meadow and the garden — an autumnal garland, glistening in the september morning light, heralding equinox
likely dying during or before the brief, but deep snowdrifts of january 2024
and definitely not by predation; Crows are simply too smart for the local feral cat bird-killers (the only worthwhile information that author Jonathan Franzen ever imparted to me) — and work in groups to warn and defend against hawks and owls;
& for All the Mothers whose children were — and will be murdered by the State — domestic or foreign, & for All Mothers who have lost — and will lose their children to the brutal and carceral machinations and institutions of the State
Weighing of the Heart | Book of the Dead Thoth and Anubis weigh the candidate’s heart against the feather of Ma’at while Ammit hungrily awaits the judgment. Inside Ancient Egypt exhibit, Field Museum of Natural History, Chicago, January 2013 photo: by author
she cries “wolf!” so often that it becomes tempting to ignore
yet the wolves were always nearby, stalking, steady clawing at her door
there’s a Wolf curled up at her feet now, but he’s not of the pack of violent beasts,
you see, this Wolf is not a hungried one, and He does not want her for his feast
Anubis is the Wolf’s name, and He waits to gently weigh her Heart
on the Golden Scales of Justice He’s balanced with a badge and service glock,
these reparations just for her, and Mothers like her, in lieu of the Feather of Ma’at
In this piece, which is an interpretation of one of many universal myths which impart the water crossing and trek we all are to embark upon after death,
most of the departed climb up the steep, barren embankment and enter the tunnel individually, while a child and a dog are tenderly escorted — led by the hand or carried by chthonic monks into the tunnel leading to the
Underworld
the tunnel appears under geological strata — presumably the surface of Earth, with blue sky and forest in background above it
interestingly, the artist’s limited use of perspective also allows the sky and forest to be viewed potentially as the Great Beyond itself — as a Northern or Alpine “paradise,” a Valhalla, beyond the sojourn in and through the tunnel
a high, solid, wooden fencebisects the river, embankment and tunnel and prevents arrivals from observing the exiting monks — only one-way vision and traffic for the dead
and while the monks do not cast shadows, the human figures continue to be accompanied by their shadows; for those who subscribe to Jungian analytical psychology or gnostic texts, the physical shadow depicted may be interpreted symbolically as the anima/animus of the person — which would ultimately disappear during the tunnel upon the full reintegration of the Self/Soul/Spirit
through re-unification with one’s divine twin (which is sometimes also called the cosmic/celestial twin or daimon) after having been separated during human incarnation and birth.
author’s note:
i often and prefer to call the underworld aka afterlife “The Great Wide Open of the All” — which in my liminal gleanings is a supremely contented blackness of universal consciousness, devoid of thought or sensation — a perfected existence in the dark cosmic fabric of nothingness,
there may be levels in the afterlife which may manifest our own personal imaginal constructs of paradise — far beyond what our limited sensory perception and experiences of life on Earth are - such as, an Alpine Paradise upon emerging from the tunnel -
i know full well the breathtaking beauty and feeling upon exiting a scary and lengthy mountain tunnel where my heart and eyes are stunned by a grand vista of forest, peaks and sky — from my many road trips in the Western U.S.
yet, i truly prefer the former — when i die, i want to rest for all eternity — although with just one desire, one sensation: warmth.
the limineen | earthling, poet & crone 