The White Queen
In the White Work the soul becomes female
Every creature becomes a child
In the eyes of the Queen
albedo in every face
albedo in every gaze,
time stands still in the morning
So feminine is rebirth, Yin, half of creation embedded in the whole
Venus is born from the waves
the feminine pervades the human, from cradle to mourning
A Madonna waiting for the angel
a Magdalene within the gospel
Feminine, Yin, every rebirth thirsts for the feminine, maternal even without children
Her crown is made of lilies
White, like snow that has known no mud
like silence that precedes the first song
like moon that promises
The Queen swims naked in milk
She carries neither swords nor sceptres
She has neither spectres nor shadows
she has neither tattoos nor scars
all her moments are happy
Nigredo of putrefaction
albedo of purification
Veiled woman
White Queen
Secret mother
In the beginning was water
-water is woman
In the beginning was the womb
-womb is woman.
In the beginning was the Word
And the Word became flesh
And the Word grew into a Woman
Barefoot to crush the serpent
not lying Wisdom
sinless Eve redeemed
the world still has the placenta
‘Thou art all fair, my friend, and in thee there is no blemish.’ (Song of Songs 4:7)
The whole world kneels to thee
There is deep veneration of man for Woman
ancient, ancestral, arcane veneration
memories of water cradled in the womb
we are in the One, outside of time
androgynous of love in union with the Mummy
music without a stave
The contemporary has done everything to discolour the Woman, everything is defined in the confrontation with its opposite, the contemporary has blown up the bridges between the masculine and the feminine, it has put them at war, it has dried up the source of confrontation, condemned to isolation the feminine has been forced to make buds of the masculine sprout within itself, it always comes back to there, to the anti-Christic androgyne
The contemporary makes every woman an atom in pain
the post-contemporary makes every woman a queen
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