©2004 All images have been shamelessly ripped off of other sites, and thier copyrights belong to whoever I stole them from. If you happen to be someone I pirated artwork from, I assure you plagiarism is the sincerest form of flattery.
A Hint of Blood in the Air - Riding the Beast
meditate on Saturn for an appropriate time]
[draw 3 invoking Saturn hexagrams]
Oh thou Saturn
Thy movement is slow and deliberate.
Long has it been since thou rested in the feiry house of Leo.
Thy circuit around the sun is near complete,
Just as the first cycle of my life is near completion and the second ready to begin.
Oh thou Saturn,
Thou art death, destruction and decay.
I feel thee in my aching bones.
I feel thee in the weariness of my limbs.
I feel thee in my waning appetite for that which used to excite me.
Thou art the end itself.
And in time thou wilt be my end, my own physical death.
[meditate on your personal death]
Thou art the inevitable descent;
The inescapable doom.
Yet I know thy secret, that thou art life itself.
Though thou art the end of life,
Thou art the beginning of new life.
Thou art the balancer of all scales,
Righter of all wrongs,
Remover of all woe,
And in thy embrace, all are equal.
And in my path of sorcery, I must master thee,
Even as I must master all the elements.
For he who would truly know life, must first know death.
And in that spirit I beckon to thee.
I invite thee to dwell with me death,
For to fear thee is to be defeated utterly by thee,
Yet to embrace thee is to master thee.
I will look into thy eyes fearless and embrace thee,
Yet I am humbled before thee.
Thy force is that of the rumbling mountain,
Power built up over long ages and unstoppable,
All the momentum of the whole earth flying through space
Is but as a speck of dust to thy immense girth and ponderous weight.
Thou art the iresistable force of gravity.
Thou art time and space itself,
And so long as I remain constrained within thy bounds I am bound to follow thy laws.
For O thou Death, if thou hast come for me,
And I see thee standing on my treshhold even now,
Then let it be so.
But let thy forces of death not be wanton.
Yea, let there be death and decay, but let it be focused, constrained by my Will.
Let that which impedes me die.
Let that which is impure wither and decay,
That that which is healthy and pure may have more nourishment and space to grow.
I open myself up to thy energy.
I create a path for thee.
Let old patterns which no longer serve me die.
Yea, let even my ego itself die,
Only to be reborn stronger.
For there is a time for ending and that time is now,
But there must follow a time for beginning also,
And let the one flow into the other without pause.
Let that which is torn down be rebuilt anew,
And let new fire be kindled from the ashes of the old.
Oh thou Saturn,
I call to thee.
Let thy weight not be before me as an immovable obstacle,
But behind me as an unstoppable force.
Let thy force and my force be joined in one movement.
Stand behind me, oh my Death and push me further than I may push myself.
Let the foreknowledge of my death remind me
To even more stridently embrace life while it still flows through my veins.
Oh thou stern disciplinarian, I come to thee.
Let thy austerity and discipline be as the warrior who places his art before all else.
Let thy devotion and rigor be as the genius' unwavering devotion to his muse.
Let thy rigidity be the rigidness of my Will,
Which keeps me from straying from my path.
Yet let that rigidity not hinder me on my way.
But let thy great force channeled into such a rigid form be as the gun barrel,
Which conatins and focuses the power of my Will,
Until it is as a bullet unswerving in its course and unstoppable.
So Mote It Be