ADORATION OF NUIT (1980)
I adore Thee, Nuit, adore the agonies and trials
I adore the deadly deep desperation,
The uneven sleepless nights, vials
Of Thy eternal loneliness in manifestation.
I adore Thee through all that happens.
I am a quintessence of soul set on fire,
A flaming up of inner aspirations,
Forming a true eidolon of a soul that aspires.
I adore Thee Nuit, I adore Thy sweet traces
Of ineffable love, hidden in unlimited space
And hidden in life’s sorrowful faces.
I adore Thee through life’s race.
O, golden and silver of life’s mystic dawn!
We move as a faint spark of light in vast illumination;
Thus sparking and living know how we spawn
Phenomena and all its illusion.
I adore Thee, Nuit, oh vast expanding One
Of illimitable Space. I in Thy bosom a minute
Vestige of forgotten and unknown atom
Spell yet an end to notions of the finite.
Oh, vast blue Space, O signature of matter,
Oh unfulfilled in eternal grace!
Who yearns for dancing point of light, unshattered
By its law of gravity and place.
Still I adore Thee, adore Thee, adore Thee,
Everlasting management of possibilities.
Adore Thy oneness and interpenetration of me
Adore Thy ineffable harmonies.
Oh, plentiful agency of limitless beauty
I adore Thee far into blue-dimpled night
I bend towards Thee in evanescent duty
As a spark to manifest life, love, liberty and light.
I adore Thee as my true soul steals forth;
I adore Thee in art and inspiration;
I adore Thee in all loves and silent mirth;
I adore Thee in quiet transformation.
I am a virgin earth unto Thy sublime expression,
A virgin Queen, Malkah unrecognized.
I adore Thy traces through me in secret recognition
Of Illumination at last by Thee franchised.
Oh, Nuit, Goddess of all and none
And one again, and whatever may be
On heaven and earth and all between.
I love Thee because I am Thy whole-made Tree.
In Thy dispensation I am seeing through
Thy veils of dance as disguised infinity
As mysterious as eagle that flew
Into thine Empyrean, dissolving his trinity.
A soul laid bare aspires yet again to Thy bosom
Amid all of illusions laid aside and abandoned
Until the least of these lead to love’s fruition
Beyond all experience that may be fathomed.
Oh, Nuit, I in Thy embrace lie serene
And turned into Nothing, only a cenotaph
Marking my existence. Too glorious to bear
Is Nuit who annihilates thus even my path.
This path exists, no more because swallowed
In essential space. I am the butterfly
Destroyed by Light, wings that were malleable
To circumstance are gone in ecstasy of death’s blight.
I adore Thee, Nuit, Thou glorious One unfulfilled
Through every interstice of space.
Today and always this life is spilled
In ecstasy of Thine unwearying embrace.
All writings of Phyllis Seckler are ©Temple of the Silver Star. All Rights Reserved.