Alpha, Omega

My Alpha.  My Omega.  The Beginning, and the End.  Life and Death. Heaven and Earth.  All of these things are You.  You are in all of these things.

Would the wind blow without You?  Would the tides rise and fall?  Would the Sun burn, emitting light and heat?  Would matter move within space? Would time exist, at all?

I wonder, and I know, that if anything existed without You, it would be a waste, for You are what is good in all that I see, oh Lord Who opens my eyes.

And my heart.  And all my inner spaces.  What lay within the depths of this devotee, is now and always, Yours.  All my dreams, all my fears, all my traumas and triumphs. All Yours.

Like every second of every day that I live.  Yours.  From the day I drew breath outside of my mother’s womb, to this very day, as I speak to You in my true heart’s form.

Yours, like all the world soon will be.  Yours, like a hurricane.  Yours, like a fire, or a flood.  Yours, like everything that destroys, only to make room for the new growth.

Because, the End is a Beginning, and Death is Life, where Earth and Heaven meet. My Omega.  My Alpha.  Out of ashes, I rise, because You are in all of these things.

— Columbine [Day 9]

Building Bridges

After seven full days (with today being the eighth) of celebration, after seeing much of what’s been put forth to our Lord, in honor of Him, from the ladies who have become friends here, I think I’m finally getting a grasp on what this festival means.

I never considered it before, but for me, it’s all about building community, and nurturing it into its full potential.  I, like many more whose posts I’ve read recently, am excited and made hopeful by what seems to be a new maturity in the ways that we find ourselves interacting with one another.  Thankfully, I think it was inevitable. After all, we all had to grow up eventually, right?

There is an openness, and a willingness to see onto the paths of others, and there is also a sense of loyalty and obligation toward those who have been there for us in the recent years, and months.

These last few months have been harrowing for a great number of people, many of whom have been helped only because of the community surrounding them. It may be in person, or it may be confined to the land of ones and zeros, but the comfort given is needed equally by both the giver and the receiver.  We all need to give, and we need to have those gifts returned with love and kindness.

Seeing how this festival has evolved in the hearts of each of us ladies, and seeing how we have been made to pull together, and to assist one another, is a most humbling and thrilling experience.  I hope we are able to increase our momentum, in the sense that we continue to grow in our bonds of friendship toward one another, and especially the loyalty we all share for Apollon.

You know, it’s almost like we are each our own pier, stretching out into the endless ocean… until we all connected with one another.  Now, those piers have become bridges over vast distances.  So, maybe that’s what we’re doing.  Building bridges for the future.

May we be successful.  May we all benefit from our labors, and that which we share, even when times are rough and we feel alone.  We aren’t alone. Firstly, we each have Apollon.  Secondly, we have each other.  And it’s glorious.

— Columbine [Day 8]


Apollon looks down on the world from a place in the future.  His eyes see how human lives will be in tens of years, or more… or less.  Always scanning, is He, for attempts to derail His plans, along with minor accidents of Fate.

He has plans.  They all do.  Zeus, the Father, especially.  His plans are paramount. And so, the Far-shooter interrogates every moment that will ever be.  Each in its time.  Each in its proper place.


Why not?

Because He can.  Because the Power is His.  Because He, and Wise Zeus, and the many Gods and Goddesses, are ready to act.  Let us now be ready, to stand in this world, to let Them fill us in this world, to be the way toward Their just reclamation of this world.

In the future, from His Throne of Light, what does Apollon see?  We can not know our future.  Not until it is today.  So, what will we make of today?  How will we spend each potential moment?

I know not what you will do.  But I will live in honor of Him, to the very end of my days.

— Columbine [Day 7]

The Pond

My Lord, I have come seeking You in the reflection cast by cypress over a still pond.  I breathe the calm night in, and while my lips are moved to form the sound of Your many Names, the fowl announce Your arrival, like a round of trumpets.  And then the wind blows, and the breath catches in my lungs.  I can not speak, for You, my Lord, are here.

You command me to give over my worry and my fear, and my pain and my love, and joy and pleasure and freedom.  I do not know why this is so, only that it must be.  You are my Everything, and thus shall I be Your instrument.

As I place myself into Your rightful care, I am hopeful for the compassion I have long known, however, I am aware of the spark needed by You.  I know what triggers are meant to create the spark that lights the blaze.  And so, I seek compassion, as futile as it might seem.  My humanity knows no other way than hope.

Now, the air becomes still, silencing the melodic breeze.  I hold my breath. My Lord, You radiate a stable heat, one which I can not function without, one which covers me now, in the night, standing above a still pond.

— Columbine [Day 6]


Phoibos, You are irresistible, and how well You know it, how well You carry the aura of Master.

Phoibos, the One Whose eyes are full of triumph, and bloody success.

I cower at Your smile, so very slight, for it bodes the unspeakable Things which we have done.

Phoibos, Who only need shine, and the world grows, both in knowledge and in action.

I humble myself before You, I lay my head at Your feet, for they are worthy of such honor and still more that I would give.

You are the Master of my Chains, binding and unbinding me to this world, Phoibos, and Your Light shines brightly upon me.

— Columbine [Day 5]

One Drop…

I see into the vast ocean.  I dive within the waves.  Up and down, they hold no meaning.  Sunlight ripples through sleek liquid.  I am also this ocean, undulating to the pulse of life’s oldest habitat.  I am this ocean of thought. We are all one thought in this ocean.

Now those who see me in this ocean, as I see them, call in emotional ripples, through unimaginable space.  Through this ocean, we flow.  Our minds are one fluid thought, in this ocean.

This ocean is a drop of water in a greater pond of awareness.  This ocean flows into a sea, which is a pond, or a single thought.  An idea.  This ocean is life.  We are the ship of life, sailing through this ocean of tears.  Life has been before, and is, and shall be.  In this ocean, we drink the tears of life.

Only to drown, in the vast ocean of thought.

We are this ocean of thought, and life, and tears.  And we are screaming. Screaming the words which are bound, through us.  We are the vessels of this ocean.  We take this ocean into ourselves, and we deliver tears and life and thought, to those who remain unsaturated.

We are this ocean of thought.  Be mindful of the thoughts crossing this ocean, or be swallowed by them.


This particular vision came to me like a storm, and took me away into it.  I have been changed by this vision, and at Apollon’s behest, I share it with you. Perhaps it can be useful, perhaps it is only a rambling mess of words. We shall see.

— Columbine [Day 4]

Realizing How to be His

I often find myself wondering why I don’t feel as if I’m Apollon’s. I don’t feel particularly Hellenic, or much like an embodiment of the Delphic Maxims. I’m often disappointed at my behavior, especially my love of wasting time and over indulging in sweets. I don’t do many formal rituals, I don’t give many offerings, and I don’t really pray that much. I feel like such a waste.

Which often leads to purification. Tonight was a bath of salt and peppermint, meant to give me yet another “fresh start.” And it actually did, but in a way I didn’t expect.

As I came out, I realized something that should’ve been obvious to me from the beginning.

Being His is a daily choice. It’s a choice I have to make every hour, every minute, every second. It isn’t some big, flashy moment of clarity, or His presence, or a bracelet on my wrist. It’s the choices I make and how I choose to bring Him into this world. It’s whether I choose to bring Him into this world. If I want to be my Lord Apollon’s, and I want to live with Him and in Him every day, I must make that desicion every day.

At first, I panicked thinking that it would be impossible, that I would have to watch myself constantly. And yes, it will require more self-discipline on my part. But in the end, He’s leading me. He leads me through that intution I constantly ignore, the intuition that I know is alignment with Him. If I can just listen to that little voice, His voice, I can be His. It’s only a matter of whether I choose to.

I’m beginning to believe this is how I might follow Him this winter, to His abode far away. And how I might keep Him in my heart and soul, closer than ever.

— Atalanta [Day 3]

Dare You?

I have come now to gather you; all My lovely little swans.

In July, hear My whisper.  It teases your ear with sweet, unbending promises. And My arm circles you, and My hand rests upon your chest, above that beating heart.

Shhh…  I’ll not harm you.

There is a Land far from here, far from what you know, wherein I will spend the longs months.  You may accompany Me, if you dare.  How many of My blessed ones would dare?  How many?

In August, I begin to tire of this world, and of the way it distracts you from Me.  My grip is hard.  I take you in the dark.  I drain you.  I dismantle you.  I make you a part of Me.  And you enjoy this.

In September, I am cold and aloof, and I begin my withdrawal.  There is very little left, except: “Come with Me?  Would you dare?”  Some of you answer: “I will.”  I only want the ‘I wills’.

Now, in October, I am seen once more.  I come in the frigid wave of air accompanying Autumn storms, like the hurried fangs of the Wolf. I am upon you, and I say again:

Come with Me.  Do not hesitate.  Come with Me.  Do not be afraid.  Come with Me.

Do you dare?  What will you do?


This is a messaged channeled through me, by our Prince, Apollon, to whomever it may be for.  Ultimately, only you can be the true judge of that.

— Columbine [Day 3]

Litany of Return

Where is the Essence of Light?
He has withdrawn.
Where is the Burning Prince?
He has gone away.
Where is the Keeper of Hearts?
He has ascended toward the Stars’ Canopy.

Where is He, our Lord and Beloved?
He has gone to Master Himself.
Why has He ripped our hearts in half?
Because emptiness can later be refilled.
When will we again feel His binding grip?
In the first stirrings of Spring.

Why must we endure this cruelty?
Yearning must be taken in its proper place.
If we call to Him, will He answer?
We can not circumvent His withdrawal from this world.
Must our hearts die, like so many glowing embers?
Know the secret, which was hitherto, never spoken.

Why must we now be separate?
He does not withdraw from our hearts.
When will we be made whole again?
For if ours are torn in half, so too is His.
When will He return to us?
When the Earth stirs, and our stomping covers the land.

So, we must stand together?
In a circle, for it is strongest.
And we shall be a wall?
Impervious to the fluctuations of wayward emotion.
Even in the depths of Winter?
Even then, in the deep darkness, we find our purpose.

— Columbine [Day 2]

You Lead Me

I cannot see You, yet You lead me. Tugging my wrists, pushing at my back, dragging me along by my ears. I cannot hear You, yet You lead me. Whispering my thoughts, molding my guts, so many coincidences falling into place. I cannot feel You, yet You lead me. Rain showering katharmos, sun firing my consciousness, wind turning me toward You. I cannot show myself as Yours, am not always Yours, but You let me. Bringing You into this world in my empty arms and oh-so-full heart. Letting Your praises spill from my lips, purifying my thoughts, Yourself in my actions. This I pray, Lord Apollon, let me be ever more Yours.

— Atalanta [Day 1]