Renaissance Man: An Esoteric Reading

In true polymath fashion, 

you are a man of much abundance. 

People crave your company and seek out your attention. 


Life presents itself on a magical floating carpet

that rides the winds, 

and you hop on or off depending on the 

sweetness or saltiness of the breeze. 


It isn't that life is easy for you, but 

rather that you choose to

bathe in the magic...

even when the world around you burns. 


From the smoldering ash you will rise like the phoenix,

adorned with pictures that tell the 

stories of ages. 


As a universal being, 

you resist being chained or constricted, 

but instead choose to "do all things (only) if you will."


A humanist at heart, 

reality enshrines your individuality, 

and your art create the worlds

you want to inhabit. 


Your pagan roots are firmly entrenched in the soil, 

and the smell of earth tantalizes the olfactory senses 

of all who are graced to enter your aura. 


While pleasures are your life blood, 

you fluently converse with the stars. 

But just because you have your head in the clouds 

doesn't mean you can't expound on the scientific, 

pragmatic sensibilities that abound. 


Fortuna smiles fondly upon your heart's desires

and graces you as an angelic being who delights

in the expression of your supernatural predilections. 


Transcendence is surely within your reach 

should you so fancy to leave this corporeal existence 

for communion with the divine. 


But let's be honest: you aren't exactly pious. 

Secularism reigns supreme in your realm, 

and is heralded by sigils that promote 

supreme manifestation of otherworldly, mystical desires. 


So my friend, dear sir, 

you are truly a man of many talents. 

The task at hand is to not let that 

innate and learned savvy be squandered. 


Humanity is asking for your guidance: 

How will you respond?


Emancipate yourself, 

so you can help emancipate us all.

Rainer Maria Rilke

 

“I beg you, to have patience with everything unresolved in your heart and to try to love the questions themselves as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. Don’t search for the answers, which could not be given to you now, because you would not be able to live them. And the point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps then, someday far in the future, you will gradually, without even noticing it, live your way into the answer.”

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“A work of art is good if it has arisen out of necessity. That is the only way one can judge it. So, dear Sir, I can’t give you any advice but this: to go into yourself and see how deep the place is from which your life flows; at its source you will find the answer to, the question of whether you must create. Accept that answer, just as it is given to you, without trying to interpret it. Perhaps you will discover that you are called to be an artist. Then take that destiny upon yourself, and bear it, its burden and its greatness, without ever asking what reward might come from outside. For the creator must be a world for himself and must find everything in himself and in Nature, to whom his whole life is devoted.”

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“I live my life in growing orbits

which move out over the things of the world.

Perhaps I can never achieve the last,

but that will be my attempt.

 

I am circling around God, around the ancient tower,

and I have been circling for a thousand years,

and I still don’t know if I am a falcon, or a storm,

or a great song.”

~Rainer Maria Rilke

To Acquiesce

There is a beautiful sadness

that hangs between the silence of our star-crossed desires.

I feel it in the space that you carved out by leaving

before the day had really even begun.

It holds all the possibilities of a harmonious rapture.

And I know that it will sit and stay within me,

collecting dust as we move on with our lives.

I will  take it out from time to time; removing the layers,

and gaze into it—a snow globe of our potential,

frozen in time.

“Someone asked me what home was, and all I could think of were the stars on the tip of your tongue, the flowers sprouting from your mouth, the roots entwined in the gaps between your fingers, the ocean echoing inside of your rib cage.”

~e.e. cummings