I should explain, and perhaps I should
have done so earlier, why I have written in the last few “Writing Saga” posts about
the things of King Arthur and the Holy Grail, when my ‘ragged writings’/poems
bear almost no overt relation to such things. In hindsight, I now see it was just a passing phase, an interest that suddenly came a few months ago, and in an amazing synchronicity of circumstance leading me to elucidate in my writings its much deeper truth.
I was given the understanding that the Grail was much more than an inanimate object to seek and search for and once found put in a museum. It couldn't be a physical object, because if it was ever found and put on display there would be no more reason to search for it, and it was the seeking with the prospect of finding that was the 'elixir vitae,' not the man-made object itself; which though possessing the reverence due a holy relic was made entirely of earthly substances that had no life whatsoever.
I knew the writings I was given were to one day reveal evidence of the real Holy Grail, the true spiritual cup which every seeker could find; for being spiritual it had not the limitations that a single, physical object had; intangible it was omnipresent, released from our grip it was omnipotent, and free of our own knowledge it could be in us omniscient.
And so the understanding given to me was that the Holy Grail went far beyond the limitations of its attachment to the legends of King Arthur and his Knights in shining armour, it passed seamlessly through all time, through every generation, it was for everyone in every sphere wherever love was truth, and truth was only love.
I was given the understanding that the Grail was much more than an inanimate object to seek and search for and once found put in a museum. It couldn't be a physical object, because if it was ever found and put on display there would be no more reason to search for it, and it was the seeking with the prospect of finding that was the 'elixir vitae,' not the man-made object itself; which though possessing the reverence due a holy relic was made entirely of earthly substances that had no life whatsoever.
I knew the writings I was given were to one day reveal evidence of the real Holy Grail, the true spiritual cup which every seeker could find; for being spiritual it had not the limitations that a single, physical object had; intangible it was omnipresent, released from our grip it was omnipotent, and free of our own knowledge it could be in us omniscient.
And so the understanding given to me was that the Holy Grail went far beyond the limitations of its attachment to the legends of King Arthur and his Knights in shining armour, it passed seamlessly through all time, through every generation, it was for everyone in every sphere wherever love was truth, and truth was only love.
‘Awake, O north wind; and come, thou south; blow upon my garden, that
the spices thereof may flow out. Let my beloved come into his garden, and eat his
pleasant fruits.’
These
are the titles of the next three
ragged writings of Amethyst Poetry:
Scented Garden
Through Veiled Realms of Swiftlight
Through Veiled Realms of Swiftlight
To be Met and Matched
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