
This story was mainly inspired by Norse Mythology as well as the Minoan, Mayan, and Assyrian Culture. The word “Witch” is the word I choose to describe “The Path of the Enlightened in the 21st Century.” The word “Witch” is not to be taken out of context nor is to be taken literally as it is simply an archetype of the human consciousness that is deeply explored in this introspection.
The silence within me was dying to share the vibrations of my VÖLVA STAFF with the land, the sea, and the sky. This is a tribute to the introspective and boundless journey of the self through the realm of poetry and imagery. The sounds of my heart are free. The strength and virility of the bull within me is aligned with the intuitive and creative serpent of my SOL. I breathe and I become one with the Ravens in the infinite melody of nothingness. We are a vision dancing and reflecting in the iridescent feathers of the Quetzalcoatl.
The mythical runes of my emotional nakedness are revealed through the words that I choose to tell my story. I NOW remember that I am, that I was, and that I will always be the pillars of the universe. The mystery of life runs in the octopuses carved in my blood. I am an ancient cosmic storyteller of the wholeness of existence. I move along life making music and reciting verses with my staff. Today I come down from my lightning purple-green nebula, and I take off my hood and see the Whore of Babylon for what it is. Today I let my colorful cats come out of my soul and they enlighten my path. Today I weave songs with my climbing voice like stairways of leaves guiding the soul back to the center of the silence. Today I don’t become stone. The forces of the ancient Gods and Goddesses accompany me during my quest to face the watery flames of my inner hell. Today the stones on earth become the eyes of the Ravens, and they see the different paths of the SELF…navigating through the lands, the seas, and the skies of the vast universe. Today I don’t evaporate. I am the poetry of the birds. I am the rhyme of the wand. I am the poesy of the staff. I am a Völva. I am the path of the modern witch and their wisdom I protect. I am the path of the wand and their wisdom, I share. I am the path of the enlightened in the 21st century and together we are immortal. Together we are the seed of the tree of life and in me, I carry the insights, the Séance of the universe.
Today I float and I invite the moon to dance in the dawn of the edge of a leaf. Today I don’t disintegrate. Today I don’t become flying ashes in the wind because I feel the warm lips of the sun kissing and caressing my neck. Today the sensuality and the magic of Goddess Freyja has taken over my timidity, and she has filled my heart with transcendental gallantry and confidence. Today I look at the Whore of Babylon eye to eye, and it falls and cries. Today the smoke shatters with my silent scream. I see the obscure mirrors of the Tower of Babylon falling on the ground. I can see through the so-called “weird” web of life. Today I look into the Whore of Babylon’s empty eyes and it crumbles, and it screams, and it explodes non-stop in and out of existence. Its serpents become my serpents and they grow golden wings. Its bulls become my bulls and they grow golden wings. Anger, love, hate, and frustration it feels but there she is, again and again, Freyja and Odin with their cosmic blanket of perpetual love in the heart of the pulsating universe. The words of my ancestors that inhabit the infinite cut the Whore of Babylon’s skin like thorns of cotton. Words are bold. Words are incantations and they create realities. Words are thorns and with honey Freyja and Odin heal their wounds. Words are air. Words are strong. And in the sky words run like bulls dashing in the foam of the waves of the ocean. And in the sky words run like bulls dashing in the foam of the waves of the ocean. It meets itself and experiences the union and disunion until the balance is born from its eyes. The defragmentation is complete. The whole is now one and the one is now whole. We have reached the culmination of the story of the universe. The sound of my staff is intense, and the scent of copal has transported the minds of the tribe inside the pyramid of knowledge to the olden times of animism.
We have traveled to the golden land of the Völva. The plumages and the precious stones of Quetzalcoatl, and the lizards, and the corn, and the flesh and the spirits live in me. It is in the words where a part of my soul is kept for words are extensions of my being as technology is an external organ of the quantic self. Oneness is as nothingness is an eternity. My digital self is as I am the physical self of the invisible dimension. As I close my eyes and face the sun, ancient energies regenerate the transparent sacred web within me. From afar I see happy green and yellow swirls of light prancing in the forests. The skies are clear. I am in the open meadow. The skies are clear. I am the endless swirls of light dancing in the joyful meadows. I am the endless swirls of light dancing in the joyful meadows.
But today I am here living and facing the Whore of Babylon. I face it with wisdom. I face it with creativity. I face it with compassion because the darkness washes and cleanses itself in the sacred waters of the bleeding hearts. I face it with humility because the darkness washes and cleanses itself in the sacred waters of the bleeding hearts. A volcano of passions and dreams is ready to erupt from the core of my soul to the mouth of the skies. The serpents and the eagles and the bulls are married in my heart. I close my eyes and see myself inside a temple of the pyramid of wisdom and compassion. I am the pyramid of knowledge and the sound of my heart is the inner eye that allows me to see through the bodies around me and through the fabric of space. I close my eyes and I sense the pulsating blood of every sentient being drumming. I feel the heart, I feel the joy of the Völvas walking down the roads with their glorious chest exposed to the world and their beautiful black hair adorned with shimmering rocks. I see the naked Völvas in the forest of the north riding their brooms in ecstasy as they become one with the free spirit of life. They caress serpents with their hearts and in them, they live. They are the life of the tribe. They are the food of the soul. They are the hearts of the loving men that craft giant jars of vision, hope, food, and water in the land of the medicine. I am light. I am earth. I am life and my cells hear and feel my verses. I breathe and I hear the Quetzalcoatls swimming in the scorching lava of my heart. My body is one with the trinity of life.
I am all-knowing vibrating geometry in harmony and my magical crescent moon horns are the torches that illuminate the universe. I am immortal because my words are my legacy. The Whore of Babylon is not a labyrinth of reflection. The Whore of Babylon is not a mandala of life. The Whore of Babylon is blindness and destruction as it is visionary and methodical. It is explosive as it is cunning. It lures and steals energy. It lures and abuses and misuses the staff. The Whore of Babylon is a maze of fabricated distortions. The whore of Babylon is a Sphinx without a face. The Whore of Babylon is no guide. It hides in the name of wisdom. It crawls and it gulps the inherent truth of the human soul. It is famished and it feeds off our innocence, fears, pains, and uncertainties. It is cruel and its heart is as black as the depths of the oceans. It is loving and its mind is as powerful as the eye of the sun. It is cruel and its heart is as black as the depths of the oceans. It is loving and its mind is as powerful as the eye of the sun.
The mind is a fertile sea of soil and my words are the fruits of my spirit. I am the plasma of my ancestors, and in my blood, I carry the first and the last words of existence and the music and the silence of the universe. I move. I touch. I hear. I receive. There is no future without a present. There is no present without a past. I breathe. I am one. I am infinite. I breathe. I am one. I am the infinite and swirls of green and purple light emanate from my crown as I dance with the vibrations of nature.
Copal burns in every corner of the pyramid of knowledge. The tribe is listening. The tribe is in awe. The black smoke rises and the scent travels through the nostrils of the tribe. The lights are dim. I am on a pedestal with a precious headdress made of feathers from the Quetzalcoatl of the fifth sun. The feathers dance with the sound of my words. The feathers sing with the sound of my words. I open my eyes and see a shooting star. This is not a dream. There is earth magic inside the pyramid of knowledge. There is fire magic inside the pyramid of knowledge. There is water magic inside the pyramid of knowledge. And the magical air of the womb of the pyramid fills the silent hearts of the tribe with endless swirls of light from the celestial lilacs. And the magical air of the womb of the pyramid fills the hearts of the tribe with endless swirls of light. I breathe and I become one with nothingness as I jump in the current of infinity and the sacred truth, the illusion is revealed. Time is not real. Time is an illusion and I see myself for what I am; the flying plummeted serpent of colors. I hug my soul. I realize that I exist without my body.
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