[A great wind is blowing.. I just returned from a short walk to mill cove by my house, overlooking the gray harbor of Portland. The clouds are roiling purple-blue, the setting sun a glowing gold ember just visible through cracks in the billowing veil. I have been gurgling all yesterday, leading to a sleepless and tumultuous night. I heard the wind today and went to her. One of the best medicines for me is to find a wind channel and open myself to the gust, to receive fully what she has to offer, to offer fully to her all that has sickly entrenched itself within me. There is a great image that comes to us through the Neoplatonic tradition, of emanation — Pseudo-Dionysius specifically articulated it as a bubbling over or bubbling forth. The creativity of the One, of the Source, bubbles over into the world. Last night I felt myself a boiling kettle. Cap rattling, unable to ease. Perpetually disturbed by the half-asphyxiation of a dry burp. Like a dry heave, the body anticipates a burp but nothing comes. It freezes the throat; for a moment, you cannot breathe. Everything is suspended, order upended. I thought to myself: this feels a very appropriate condition, very representative of how the collective feels when I sit in it. Burping, gurgling. Unable to rest. And yet, as Pseudo-Dionysius would remind us, this bubbling up is an emanation of the One. Receive it.. And so I receive it, and let it move through me. Discomfort be damned; the Good is at large.
Tonight’s missive is a time-traveler. We return to October 12th, when I was with three loved ones on a sacred shelf of glacial remains, out at sea. We happened to coincide our visit with the visitation of Tsuchinshan-ATLAS, one of the great comets of our era. Questing to gaze upon it, this 6-liner came forth from her afterglow, after fading below the horizon. It would become my first locally printed piece since 2018. This past Wednesday I read it at the launch party of The Portland Dirt, where it contributed to the magic of Issue 01. The wind told me today, share it here.. And so I share it here with you all. You may notice the first line is not in the usual scriptura monumentalis (all capitalized letters). I don’t know what to say other than, that’s how it appeared~] Received 10/12/24 | 8:07pm
Listen to the Recitation:
The fading illuminesce
Tide of time's turning
A comet slows down
Towards the horizon
Blazing blessing this
Lotus throne of love



So lovely to hear your voice again, Cybele.