Silent is the First of Firsts Thunder
Of which no mortal blood may know.
Yet for those enchanted—a Wonder
A Balefire secret — yet aglow.
The Mage in the adytum of Night
Incense coiled ‘bout the Ancient Robe
Mute his deeds, yet to the Source Light-
The Serpent sacrifice as of old.
A trick of the eye and a Juggler
Appears tossing sphered patterns fine,
Beguiling the transfixed Beholder
Speaking in wordless silent rhyme.
Magician, mountbank, prophet, and fool
Trickster at the supper table
With knife and cup, dish and wand thy tools
To fashion truths veiled in fable.
Master of Elements Manifold
Opens he the way nocturnal
Through death and desire’s spell untold,
Heavens barr and hell infernal.
Through this temple to the Secret Shrine
Where dwells the Mystery of thy Work
Within whose light firedrakes dance divine
And in the Darkness, Phantoms Lurk.
The fay-spell untold beyond the Gate
Of revolving Seasons and signs
Conjured by magic’s innermost fate
Beyond the realms and bounds of time.
There the Starfire Tempests, Lightnings Quake
And Azoth Splendor, Flashing Free
Shall strike deep unto the earthen brake
Releasing thee and setting free.
Howl the hound who guards the pathway
The Magi’s friend, the Warlocks foe
To one a guide past formless Veils grey
To one in Tartarus shadows go.
JET Arts - The art of Jane Estelle Trombley 