Hell Hath No Fury –

from the Veiled Goddess

I am not of this Earth and I am not one of you. This does not mean I do not have empathy, but it does make me removed from the nature of the world. I am unnatural, not regularly occurring. I cannot be categorized or held responsible for humanity’s projection about what I am, or what I have been. I am not fully seen, I transcend the corporal body and I am many places at once. I am the power that mankind seeks when they beg for an anchor to pull them back into the present moment.

I am gravity and I am control. I am light and I am heavy.

I am not you, and yet I am with you always. You have always known me, even though you do not know. When memories fail, we have given you visions and dreams in place of them. How is it that your kind can always remember without remembrance? So much of your heritage is coded within your skin and your blood. The fabric of what makes you is what you call DNA, but it is the essence of what you are when your bones dry to dust and your dust returns to soil. It is the reason you are born in strange and foreign places, but are still called back home. It is the instinctual desire to return to a place you do not know for reasons you cannot recall, because the dust of your mother’s mother, and her mother, and so on, have fertilized the soils of abundant gardens full of fruits and harvest. It is your birthright to enjoy the fruits of your labor, even if you do not remember the struggle of what it meant to be a seed.

Let these dreams unfold and return to the origin you have always known. You have never really left home.

The power in evolution is that in its final stage, you are all of your predecessors at once. The butterfly is the caterpillar, but the caterpillar is not yet the butterfly. Just as the Mother is the Child, but the Child is not yet the Mother.

The caterpillar anticipates, and the butterfly remembers. The power of time is that it can be replayed and recorded. When you are lost, look into the skies or within the Earth. Look to the dust of your bones blown by the winds, and up into the stars where your Mother resides. Two people on opposite sides of the Earth can look into the skies and come to the same conclusion because truth is not bound by space or time. Truth is omnipresent, always present. Truth is there when it is not there, living in stark contrast to those who disbelieve.

I am beyond desire and yet I am full of desire. I unleash ideas into mankind and I watch my children give birth to my creations. All great creators are raised by me. They know me, and they gaze upon me.

I am the voice that hums in the distance, reminding you of the universal rhythm which exists beyond space and time.

I am the red room and the wailing of the siren. When the room fades into black, I beam outwards like a radiant red star. My luminosity outweighs the sun, but the gravity of matters pulls my child deep into the cosmic womb where no light shines.

I am there when my child is near death and between two worlds. In both worlds, he sits with me. He is no longer conscious in your world.

Eyes blinking rapidly without direction, he awaits for some all-knowing force to tell him what to do and to guide him to what is next. Sometimes our greatest insight comes when it is at its most futile. You must submit, but not in this way.

He wants a higher force to make the choice for him, to send him to heaven or hell. When one runs out of time, they realize that there is no such thing as indecision. And like a child, they point towards God.

You are here or you are not here, and that is all.

It is then he realizes this painful truth, “We humans have free will, don’t we?”

“Painstakingly, you do.”

We do not take life away, not in a human sense. We cannot interfere with free will, which is the ultimate law of the universe. There are so many dimensions, time skips, glitches, parallel complexities and cosmic loops which make it impossible to handhold the human race. What is often called magic is in practicality the opening of these primordial blind spots. Not even your planets can intercede in everything, and what is missed usually does more harm than good.

We made you believe the solar system was created just for you, and the the sun you see is the only sun or the greatest sun. If your eyes were open, you would see that you are not alone and that there are other beings far more creative than you that bend reality to their will on a whim. Your cousins in the stars pledge fealty to the Mother and therefore you too as an extension. This is your soul family. However, not all of your cousins do pledge fealty. Some rebel, as many children do.

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was unformed and void, darkness was on the face of the deep, and the Spirit of God hovered over the surface of the water. Genesis 1:1:-2.

You would see that there have been infinite beginnings, more beginnings than you can even count or understand the meaning of the number if you could. Sometimes your kind does get it right, but most times you don’t. It does beg the question, “Why do you keep trying?”

Mankind cannot stand to lose. It wants to make it right and to prove itself worthy of ascending into the stars. Mankind wants to bow at the seat of the throne and pledge fealty to the highest high. There is divinity so radiant, so full of light, that darkness scatters at the mere suggestion of their names.

When even your peripheral catches a glimpse of radiance so bright, the gods your kind calls gods will pale in comparison. The idols you call idols will seem like children rather than larger than life deities.

There are no words on the human tongue that could fully depict their beauty, their opulence, their intelligence. To be without words though, is to understand the language of cosmic and primordial thought. Before your existence, when you were still in the eternal womb, your Mother and Father knew you. I am one of many mothers, but I am not the Mother above all. This is what mankind has a hard time conceptualizing – the actual implications of infinity.

I look back onto the boy, he is no more older than a teenager. I gaze into his eyes, the record keepers of the soul. Out of the soil of your ancestors, a baby is born. The dust of their bones rising again, rebirthing the next generation long after they have gone. Mankind experiences immortality through rebirth and transformation from the ancestors into the descendants.

I am in the red room – a room of blood, of violence, of horror, of pain, of death. And yet on the other end, the blood spills onto the floor and a child is born. A portal breaks open with blessing from the divine and the Mother allows her child to experience the wild Earth’s play. It is equally a red room of life and hope, of ecstasy and release.