Honoring the Empress

When we have found the courage to recognize the value of the feminine, we open ourselves to crept the true bounty of her wealth. For altnough the masculine can exhibit force in penetration, resilience, and might, it is the feminine that holds the power of the development of life. As the Empress sits upon her throne to greet the fool along his way, she does so in the open, amidst fields and forests and streams, for she is the source of all of them, the supreme Mother Nature herself.

Her form is soft yet luminous, much more lush than the pixies that have danced in men’s minds as an aberration of what a woman really is, the goddess is full-bodied to not merely serve as a source of sexuality for the fleeting moments when men must have their prod prodded, but to also provide the healing warmth needed when the prod is not enough. But the Empress does not sit upon her throne merely for the comfort of man, but because she is the conduit for all of life, male and female. Her crown consists of the star of creation encircling her head, and the waters of life flow from her feet, the birth canal being the source of all streams s life is sent forth to the corners of the earth.

There is a myth in our current mode of understanding that destruction must precede creation, but the truth is that creation need only be preceded by love. Destruction, the game played by little boys in sand boxes and battle fields, precedes re-creation, the series of events that have led to our warped and cataclysmic world view. Yet the Empress, with a patience that transcends time itself, knows that life abounds in all things, and that even death plays its part in the revolution. Just as death cannot exist without life, destruction cannot occur without creation, and omelets cannot be made without eggs, the break in the circle of life is still part of the circle of life.

The Empress, the divine feminine, rules over the kingdom of Nature, not with a heavy scepter, but with a warm embrace. As she watches the expanse of infinity unfold before her, she sits in majestic splendor, understanding the tides as the tellers of time, recognizing each gust as a wind of change, placidly waiting as her children go through their stages of childhood, adolescence, and adulthood. And so she waits for humankind to grow in maturity and fully realize from whence they come so that they may cease their cycle of destruction and embrace their birthright of creation.

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