The Secret of the Chariot

I am the beast before me

Sentenced to forever follow behind the Sun above me

That I am.

Placed as a protector, a carrier,

A steed made of mirror

Reflecting its light, which is given and taken away

In intermediate intervals ~

That seem so cruel and cold.

“I never move at all”, says the sun

In answer to my complaints

“It is you who hide me from yourself”

Turning to and fro

until you are ill

Protect and guard the conduct of your will

And I shall take you in my wings

To ascend when fleshy tasks are done.

But to deny me,

Oh my lover,

Oh my love,

To defy me,

And to follow instead

The murderous voice that pounds, writhing in your dying, mud made form

If you allow this serpent,

primitive and sewn together from fear,

to slander me with your symptoms of suffering

If you permit your gross desires

To take my place

In your heart

For but a moment, of a sliver of a fraction of

Infinity

Well then my love,

My lover,

I shall wait for you.

I shall not punish you.

But rather,

Shall never cease my own beingness,

Which can be swayed by none

there are no tides upon me

that can be turned by gravity

So I continue

Regardless of your choices.

And shall welcome you in my open arms,

As soon as

You choose me.

Your spirit

Oh your soul,

I follow you as an albatross does a ship at sea.

Hoping for the North wind to turn

You back to me.

-White Witch