Eternal Grace | Echoes of Eternity

Sleepless nights and surreal dream like days are all she knows in the ever presenting now. In stillness She waits for those who heard the call and have not yet answered it. No fantasy nor illusory light will do the trick, who makes this mockery? There is no wind beneath her wings, she powers up lit from within the secret chamber of her Heart. Alone she stands inner clouds of thunder shaking the sacred ground beneath her bare feet.

Be thee Knight or knave?

Where is this forgotten Nobility?


We the Singers of the Song see what was done to you, we see when one rises another falls.

She calls you all.

Forever or never-never land

Alone you must chose. 

No pretenders can sit on the golden throne.

Look upon this fantasy that’s been made, a charade of what it takes to rise and fall with both day and night. Do you not see beneath this shimmery fiction of love what you have left Her to maintain and contain. And dearest beloved, each and every one of you … She burns with pure Love. Having shed her shallow skin, standing raw and naked you run, you hide. But darling ones it is not Her you fear, it is what haunts you from the shadow side, that which you will not face… Yet you wish to blaze with the brilliance of an open heart… The power of your inner light awaits.

“She sees now that it is a state of nothingness that is so strangely full in which she occupies space. She can move up and down, sideways and around, a state of awareness waking within the dream.
Her beat is Love, her Will fierce, she won’t back down.”
– Aureo Sky

She swallowed the moon, bears in her body-divine an iridescent liquid pearl. She lays naked in the warmth the Sun, curled within the Earth she sings the Song of Love. Ha! You seek anonymity and think you can hide from the penetrating light of the ALL, y-Our day has come.


It is the rule with drunkards to fall upon one another, to fight
and squabble and make tumult.

The lover is worse than the drunkard; the lover also belongs
to that party. I will tell what love is; it is to fall into a goldmine.
What may that gold be? The lover is the king of kings; it
means becoming secure from death and not caring for the golden crown.

The darvish in his cloak, and in his pocket the pearl – why
should he be ashamed of begging from door to door?
Last night that moon came along, having flung his girdle on the road,

so drunken that he was not aware that his girdle had fallen.

I said, “Leap up, my heart, place wine in the hand of the soul;
for such a time has befallen, it is time to be roistering.
“To become hand in hand with the garden nightingale, to fall
into sugar with the spiritual parrot.”

I, heart-forlorn and heart-yielded, fallen upon your way – by
All-ah, I know of no other place to fall.

If I broke your bowl, I am drunk, my idol. I am drunk – leave
me not from you hand to fall into danger.
This is a newborn rule, a newly enacted decree – to shatter
glasses, and to fall upon the glassmaker!

~ Jalāl ad-Dīn Muhammad Rūmī







By Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my Sun!



What you mean, then, is that you wish to love a woman.

One who, whether mystical or not, wild or not, contains all of the multitudes of the Universe.

Whether her hair is a lion’s mane and she speaks freely,

Or she is quiet and calm and poised but aware,

The only difference is what you perceive.

There are not types of women,

There are just energies waiting to be unleashed.

Within every woman you ever greet is the goddess —

And that is the embodiment of which she so chooses to align with.

Not all goddesses are fire and charm and outrageous action,

Some are the sweet flowing river of love that comes from observation and seeking comfort.

Some are the still of the morning hours when nothing is yet moving,

Some are the screeching howl into the night that shakes the trees like a breeze and causes the stars drop their cloaks.

Some are long, lazy afternoons of dripping skin and pen to paper.

Some are all questions and careful movements and lace-covered thought processes.

Some are treasures, some are flames, some are darkness, some are rage.

The truth is, all of these qualities are at home together, in a tangle, carefully constructed, much as a snowflake, as each gorgeous creature on this planet that identifies as a woman, is then also a snowflake of a goddess. Unique, never to be repeated, demure or boisterous, tamed or unstoppable. In whatever form she comes in, she is the embodiment of all things.

What is not blatantly obvious is also her secret magic, the layers that reveal themselves through time and trust and the undoing quality of surrender.

No matter her loudness or stillness, her desire, most often, is to find the one who can hold space for the complete undoing of her knots and ties.

She wishes to unleash herself, in whatever form that takes, to find the catharsis of letting go completely.

Relaxing the muscles, releasing her mind, participating in the revolutionary act of melting.

The great letting go.

The release.

The deep swim into the ocean that holds her electricity without so much as a second guess.

If you wish to love a goddess, love the fact that however she presents herself is only a small sliver of the kaleidoscopic creature she truly exists as.

And this is the power of women: mystery. Magic. Creativity, sexuality, grace, strength — the gift of witnessing what it means to be able to create and destroy at the drop of a hat. All of Mother Nature’s storms and sunsets rolled into one being, capable equally of being tempestuous and seductive, disarming and alluring.

If you wish to love a goddess, look beyond her presence in the world and into the way she thinks and loves and dreams — for a timid exterior may also indicate a wildfire that has yet to grow. If you wish to love a goddess, nurture her whims with your strength and structure so she feels safe to be herself, which is the greatest gift you can give.

If you wish to love a goddess, speak to her, and listen. Let her every impulse roll off of her tongue until she greets the truth at the tip. Let the inhale and exhale of the breath of her emotions ride like waves over you — high and low tides — times to expand, times to retreat.

Forget not that you are both human animals.

Love her enough to be gentle. Love her enough to ravish every cell of her being so completely the letters of your name are etched into her energy like constellations.

Traces left by fingertips are no comparison for what you can do with your love.

Fill her. With all things. Your trust, your confidence, your appreciation, your wisdom, your unshakable presence.

Find roots in your being that can grow deep enough that you will not quake when she is called to release rage, or fear, or sadness — she carries the weight of the world in her womb, and the more safe she feels to move this through and out of her body, the more you both will ascend, heal, and transform.

See her as all things. Sweet, fertile, kind mother goddess. Exotic, languid, hypnotizing erotic goddess. Quiet, still, Elysian angel goddess. Dark, destructive, bloodthirsty Kali goddess. Abundant, joyful, creative goddess. Weeping, shedding, transforming rebirth goddess.

If you want to love a goddess, give her space. Allow her freedom.

And within that space, make it known that she is held.

That she can let go.

That she can lay her body down.

That she no longer is alone in the fight for herself.

That she no longer is alone in caring for herself.

That she can let go.

That she can let go.

That she can let go.

And then, slowly, or all at once, the layers may fall away and you see — within her, the Universe. Between you, a force-field.

Because of you, an ascension into her true form.

Because of that, the truth that you are a god.

Les Rebelles


Music is heard in the silence when we play our notes.

Love love for all you are worth and begin by loving the Real of U.



Engraved in stone.



3 thoughts on “Eternal Grace | Echoes of Eternity

  • August 5, 2018 at 3:48 pm

    Hi Aureo, I loved the poem “So You Want to Love a Goddess” The lines about giving a goddess space holding space for her to let go and express were especially resonant. It gives one a lot to think about and feel into. The line that stood out for me was “No matter her loudness or stillness, her desire, most often, is to find the one who can hold space for the complete undoing of her knots and ties.”

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