I’ve lost everything. I’ve lost myself. This is the risk I took with the first fated bite. It wasn’t the Devil who made me do it, it was Her.
Her that grew the Tree of How to Know Me…
sparkling and dangerous, enormously wise.
The Serpent said, “My name is Mother Light”
I knew it all along…

knuckles, roots
hiding places
warm and dark
and deeper
arms into the earth
mending broken places
stretching toward me
the gaping wound
the sucking trunk
of weaning life
pull the hole down
into empty hands
I could give you everything
I could touch your heart

They will turn against you and you won’t be your mother’s favorite when you stop being a people pleaser, a caretaker, the family comedian, the young and harmless, a beautiful girl, the friendliest and the smartest one, the faithful martyr or the smiling slave.
Instead you will suffer the pangs of birth and you will lose all that you think matters to you. You will know that you will die. You won’t be silly sweet and innocent anymore.

Sexually fragrant, ripe and aware of the Two of you- is what happened.
I don’t think anyone is getting punished, I think we are getting fed. So do not cover yourself in shame-for this is merely the intermediate wasteland that we used to call paradise. When our eyes are closed we cannot see the hoax
of how beautiful and flawless we already are.

All the faces we became for them, pretended that we were, or thought we had to be…until She slithered up to us and told us, that in fact, we could be free.

Their gospel of contentment and acceptance, their creating of perverse and unrequited love,
has made us guilty and ashamed of our holy flesh. Whose house is this anyway? Stop lying!

…and the cold hand of the witch
spread my germs everywhere…
on the night of the crescent moon
the city cracked in pieces…
I never lied when I stole her heart…
I walked right in…
to where the edges opened
…and She was alive….
wasp like a witch….
spreading disease into midnight…

dark rays of madness making believe
her heart wasn’t for sale
and the city bled on…

Yes we took a bite so that we could know Her. We ate the fruit to see Her naked body. This is what She wanted. “The man is not my master” She told me…and yet She knew He was God.
This is true love. God and Her wild at heart.

weaving falling slowly
a spiral in the wind
soft spirit drifting
spinning down
between, inside
toward the middle
of the sullen sky
the leaves aren’t green
the day is dead
crawling toward its
madness the face
turns gray then lifts
her eyes gripping tightly
the earth recedes
little drops of sunshine
thru the haze
made me promise
I would love her
In winter shadows
and brave light
tipping toward me
my beloved….
fall and always know
I am beneath you.

(as the Violet sky)
orange glass eyes
so my sun will know
looks thru the shaded
to the burning jewel
sunrise of the
Fathers smile
heaven only knows
that laughter tumbles
toward the rain
hazy dark and shrouded
cloudy opus
unknown me
unmask unshackle
set free the sky
locked and limitless
shining holder
of our spacious place

and yet….

(I hung on even though
I knew I would soon be falling
I saw everything as I clung
to the me no longer there
done but not tired
cold but not dead
she was spread everywhere
watching me see her dying)

Dying into Him.

I hung on to Him and She knew I was ripe.

There are no words for Love. There is only empty space filled with pregnant moons and solar fire…
“Come with me…to the earth below us….”
There are no words between them. No gaps,
no sounds, no breathing….only stars like us…

When we take Their love as our own we will be alone. Alone, as the point of Their slightest touch, we feel for Them every little world that is still keeping them apart…

When we tell this truth it often reminds the others of their own lie….and so we are turned on, judged, shamed. We are called names and disowned. The blind and deaf see and hear us as the Big Black Liar. What can we do? Well, seeing as these relationships have taken a lifetime (or more) to develop, we feel entrenched, stuck in the family and friends stew and so naturally we take the heat and push it deep down into where we matter most…but The Beloved already went there and it was ok….

I opened a nice
white package
of pain
slip out of yourself
the bow was red
and welcoming
silky velvet
and very large
It was a gift
a way to be loved
chewing through
the grit
the big tic
sucking hell
heaven has a big wide face
over the gift
of my tears
bound and wrapped
I am a white angel
stripping away
those wings
that seem
To drag me down.
(how happy of me)
my flawless masquerade
has left me speechless
and wanting more.
Quiet and stifled
pinned high in the sky
(the parties never over)

It’s all about the harvest of our sexuality- who planted the seeds of what we’re growing down there…it happens up here and we are disturbed by our most sacred fruit. We cannot handle the reins of this animal- the one eating our forbidden fruits. It never turns out well for us when mommy and daddy get the bible out….and tell us about when (come to find out) impious Eve was seduced and deceived -and The Snake who lured her was called the Devil. And poor stupid Adam can’t think for himself because the slut’s got him by the balls…

(see what I mean? The violence, the implications?)

The Snake is the source of God. What’s the problem with everyone? You know what the problem is now don’t you? It’s right there, that place of wonder and fascination that is so horrific we twist it on a stick and hate ourselves for trying. Other people exploit their divinity in sex movies for us to watch -and we can’t yet quite understand the allure or the problem? Where has this deceptive power come from that can make us obsess with lust, shame or pride on our varied holes and protruding places?

There must be something more to God’s plan.
I’m not Christian but there is certainly a moral to this story that nobody wants to look at. There seems to be a lot of money to make from what Eve did. On us, righteously screwing and nailing our only way out, down or through.
It’s really by design that first we slither and then we fly.

sunshine simple
reigning beast
little alligator
took the wedge
blue bonnet
pure at last

Tight fists
miles of moon
walking, sinking

So don’t be defensive. It’s a sexual dilemma disguised as something (or everything) else. Do not fear The Snake. You can’t change this place because they really believe the scam they’ve been pushing. So they’ll blame it on me, you or Eve…what’s the difference? White knuckled holy men, religious faces tight and red, blue lips preaching dogma…
rules and lies and violence over and over again. They metaphorically rape you, righteously castrate themselves and then go on shaming and mentally humping one another…
the most demented are the most revered….
we can’t look out, only in…believe me.
You already know.

Their secrets and lies have become the grid that their lives meticulously maneuver upon and around…like the most important thing that nobody sees, that nobody found…..someone bad and dirty is running their mind from the back room. So what I mean is, get ready to be alone and abandoned and isolated. Get out of there and be fine with who you are. Everything you find in you is as pure and as precious as everything you think you can’t find. This True Love is all embracing. She is in there with Him.

Get ready to finally get real. The invisible reckoning of Eve with the Spirit of Life is the sweetness of God not bound by Their rules.
They can write all the books they want…

it’s the choices we make, it’s the rules we break, because the love they call love is fundamentally FAKE.

To eat the fruit was always the answer.

Obedience helps no one. Not God, not me.

Still, I’m not totally confident that I know the way.
I only know what’s NOT the way. Their way is NOT my way. Yes, rebellion for the sake of disruption creates -Creativity Herself. Its that friction that makes us vivid. But you know what I’ve been saying, I’m nobody special. I’m just a lone serpent winding through Her space until the end of time…
creating and dissolving boundaries and obstacles- the two binding forces of His friendship. It makes True Love worth dying for. After all, it’s not about me anymore is it?

little feet went walking kicking
little rocks along the way
bigger than the biggest
Small thing
I am

He taught me…

Who am I (and the reason it doesn’t matter)

Where am I (and how that’s not even possible)

What am I (and the question with no answer)

basically He taught me everything I need to know. How can I not be defeated by my own
urge to self destruct? That’s what I know.


This is a raging and potent dreamscape we’ve entered. Sometime we’ve been together and sometimes we’ve been apart. But it’s never been real or forever because my love for you cannot lie in pieces. The heart breaks and then grows our moons back together again….eventually the solar sparks start fires….and eventually the drops of our tears and blood become heavenly oceans. Am I an outcast or am I lost inside of you? This Love is meticulous and still we must wander. So here we thrive on suggestion and companionship. Mothering and coupling. The father asks the questions that the mother tosses aside. These stories and journeys happen to us,
each of us in the ways that make us feel naughty or nice…so I don’t cover over secrets anymore. I don’t blend the culprits either. I don’t split myself in two. (neither should you)
She said “Remember that I never left, that I’m always with you.”
So, If asked, ” Michelle what did I do?”
the answer rises to acquiesce…

otherwise silent is The Sage of Eden.

Did it happen? Did She do it? Does it really matter who believes me as long as the back of my mind is emptied of Her confusion? If we truly face ourselves we disappear.
Who disappears? The monster of the One we won’t look at, that’s who. It’s very simple to be free. So simple it’s nearly impossible, such a tight hole to fit through….because the truth is no longer a big place here. The entrance to the truth is as small as the eye of a needle- depending on you- how small can you become? How insignificant are you? Is this really True Love?

You can’t fit through with much. Let go. Let it all go. Our lies and secrets make us bulky, keep us famous. Disperse the secrets and enter into the realm of echoes. In this place we hear only what was…coming back and hitting nobody. It’s the only place you can hear the sound of True Love embracing the Serpent. The realm of echoes is the call to listen. Silence reveals all. Sit still and just wait. True Love will wait for you forever.

Time both wounds and heals the fractured.
Time both remembers and forgets.
Time is just the basket for our harvest.

And what exactly is our Harvest? You are the Truth here now as the Harvest, and so am I. As delusional as we are in this kaleidoscope of separation- the best we can do is get to the center of this being (filth and bad and all) and love and speak this being. Do not shut the shame into the chambers of your heart. We can never find the love She meant to give us when we do that. Do what you must to air out the stagnant places -the places that we’ve possibly hidden Her shame (from ourselves even) and taken responsibility for the transmission of Her poison…thinking we might go back later to fix things, but we forget and we push it deep down..and we can’t find anybody to love us now. Rejected by our own rejection. Diseased to the core, something is eating away at us because of what we ate in that Garden –
(we wanted to know and this is how it happens)
and we project and protect and promote the safety of hiding our private parts. This is lunatic panic as an ordinary life that can only end one way I am sad to tell you….because mostly everyone is doing it. Extending their disowned violence to family, friends and the hurting planet Herself. This realm is pure magnetism. We pull it to us to pull it out of us. But it doesn’t always go or come that easy. So the deeper we get buried, the longer to get out. I’m 43. It’s been awhile. I lived in an outhouse for the first half of my life, trying to keep it clean and pretty. Can you though? You can try if you become a drug addict or alcoholic.
How long should we be tied to the bed? How long should we wait to clean the toilet?
What’s hiding in your intestines? I mean it.

(This will take as long as it takes. Be patient because wisdom takes time- trial and error. We are now just seeing into the unconscious which is actually just the marriage proposal)

So I would say, start cleaning. Not because you’re dirty but because it clears the space and makes clarity reveal Herself to you. That’s exactly what I did. (and what I do) That’s how the Truth, as best as I could know Her, came out and started shining Her Light on me and inside of my forbidden places. Yes, Her light seems to disturb or hurt us at first due to its mere brilliance (a brilliance we will grow to match) and we can’t shine that bright yet…and She’s burning us clean and we will rise as The One Burning Love of His Name. She’s calling Him to Her always.
It’s you.

YOU are The Forbidden Fruit that must be eaten, and you know it’s true. You are the Answer to the Question. The True Love. The Wild Heart. You should not be tamed by anyone!
We push through the earth, deep down inside and then and we rise to the top and touch the Big Star.

In this way, clarity and courage will define us. Our Garden is a Snake Temple where the Throne is simply Remembering. Just sitting and remembering how sacred you really already are. This isn’t talk, this is action. I’m not spewing new age promises, I’m spreading exquisite geometry all over your body, eyes and heart.
Don’t be afraid to be loved.
This is the Harvest.

We are The One who never leaves. I ask myself
what is God’s name since there are so many?
I ask and I listen and I hear Nothing but the sound of fruit falling from the tree.

So I started by cleaning everything hidden in my body and the entire extended life of me. So what can we do to be the One who is holding the Snake in Her lap with no problem at all?

It seems that certain areas of our Being should be looked at -as possible culprits in the progression or sustainment of our confusion. Also as culprits in repression, self rejection and melancholy.
It’s not hard to know Her when you trust Her
way as your own way. There will always be other people will say what you should do and tell you who you are. They are wrong. For example,
I was told by someone I’ve known for over 20 years (who apparently is traveling the path of political correctness) that my blog may upset people because I seem defiant and rebellious and should rather “act” as those successful beings who came before me by “being more of a
BLANK SLATE so that others can project their needs upon me”

(I find this a sexually violent invitation)

YES! He said that. Political Correctness is the path of fear and subservience. I’m not looking for your business because I’m not for sale. I’m looking for your freedom…I’m sounding the trumpet at the End of Days….we will not be anyone’s bitch or good girl or anyone’s fantasy,
or blow up doll. No more bad mommy’s either! There is no more time for keeping the sterile and perfect peace, the price is too great and besides that  isn’t peace- it’s submission and self doubt – those demons that keep you silent and doubled over in stifled grief (because of who you lost) tinged with rage-(because of who you won’t leave) that you get so used to this funeral bearing….walking heavy,
doing your duties…..and your stomach burns and you shut up anyway. I’ve seen you do it. Hot tears almost flow- but you won’t let them… I NEVER shut up. It’s not worth it. Who are you controlling anyway? Cry me a river if you can.
That to me, is beauty and love. Letting go
of the edge and just falling into it….truth.

“Dear ****
Yes a hidden hand is writing now…
there is no commentary in the blog-
If you thought that the writing was my commentary on the poetry, it is not.
The entire thing is a story, a part of a bigger
darker picture…the doorway to God is only after the rest is seen…it’s all one being- caught in the split-we are only as connected to the light as we are aware of our own darkness.
It’s where everything sits, waiting to strike.”
Sharada Devi

It doesn’t get any better than this.

Call it, call me -whatever you want. I answer to my own voice and not anyone will ever imprison me “What should I wear?” “What should I say?” How should I talk, walk, look?” What should I like?” “Who should I like?” “Am I ok?”

Here is what we can do to step by step become
more clear and more strong. We can move our sexual energy from out of the dungeon of shame, subservience and denial, acting out and addiction. We can give ourselves more space and more silence to
know Her.

1) BODY -honor your body by moving it and tuning into its subtle language. Listen closely to what it needs from you to be to be in harmony. Your body, beautiful and sacred AS IT IS! Whether it’s skinny, fat, old or young- your only sacred body vessel. Appreciate and care for it through whatever method suits you.

2) SPEECH and MIND- what you say and think.
It’s up to you and you alone. You are not wrong!
It’s ok to speak up and let it out. Trust.

3) HOLES -what goes in and out of your 9 body holes. Pretty important. It’s everything.
Eyes, ears, nostrils, mouth, anus, sex organ.
Pay attention!

4) HOME- as within so without. Beautiful serene and clean is my temple. Don’t hide dirt and useless things. No more cobwebs!

5) ASSOCIATION-you will become just like your friends, so be careful. It’s not as innocent as you think! You will certainly become your father or your mother if you don’t break out now. Be you!

6) OCCUPATION-don’t be a slave or good member/contributor of society. Find your perfect
occupation through embracing your uniqueness fearlessly and without apology!

7) SOLITUDE- you need time alone to hear your heart’s voice and to just breath. Best to be alone more and just listen to the silence…


*You are here because you are ready. It’s Harvest Time and She knows
exactly where you are. There is a reason
for our friendship that is beyond the two of us.

It’s about hunger and light.

She said,
“I know you like the night knows stars
so that you can never leave me”

Sharada Devi

7 thoughts on “THE SAGE OF EDEN”

  1. only here only now blood moon time gone forever gone into the ocean of whales singing her death song pacific mother. we know you life, life the great mother light who burst forth in the egg of womb mind to be free.

  2. Sweet Heart ~ through the magic of our inner net I found your writing this morning. I live the hell of a Western Dakini, and now, as a crone. Our Divine Mother invites us into rest and comfort in these intense times, yet your beautiful out-pouring, for all to see, is a great gift to those who find it. We are the most courageous and free. Many name us, but not one knows us in our True Form. Please know you are not alone, and that there will be a tipping point, as the imbalances are dealt with, and we are at last able to relax into the goodness of the Mother. Sending love and light, and acknowledging our special love for the darkness. It’s all here for the Dance of Polarities, into what is Beyond.

  3. And so the bells of truth and freedom ring loudly but those who choose to stay asleep only hear an odd low frequency almost silent ringing and think it’s something else and never hear the herald — and those of us who hear the tolling bells loud and clear are lapeled too sensitive and crazy and so voicing truth and diving deep into the dark charnel ground is necessary and frightfully lonely but we are spiritual warrioress marching in the light of the Holy Mother Light and I’m blessed to read your words that offer faith to keep diving and marching in the Holy Mother Light. Jai Jai Maa, Jai Jai Kali Maa ॐ

  4. …..the only truth I know is the light, the light I drown in and float away upon. The light that calls me home. The place my souls cries for, calling to it endlessly, I want to go home. I see its golden waves, radiating profound love, paving the way to her. The place so bright , no shadows can form. I hear it’s sound current, ready for me to ride upon it, home to the truth. Away from these mindless illusions. I have nothing to give , but this yearning. All that’s real to me is in the Mother Light. Take me home. Jai Ma.

  5. Truly. It takes as long as it takes. Sometimes, I think I have cleared out, cleaned out…only to have MUCK arise again, YEARS later. I think ….WTF? Is this for REAL? I thought I got through THAT mess?!! Sometimes it has hit me so hard that I find myself on my back for days without being able to move. The processing by raging memories and drowning in tears that seem like rivers after a dam has broken. The clearing make ways for a new dawn….a rebirth. But it surely is like going through fucking hell.

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