About The Eye of the Crone

The perspective shared here is one that comes from decades of experience, study, and personal unfoldment. It is ultimately the result of an unexpected spiritual awakening that occurred in 1971, by which a foolish young woman touched Wisdom, and became a dedicated student of the Divine Being.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Envisioning Perfection

The mystical spirit knows that the key to Perfection is neither in the past nor in the future. It is found in the Now, the Present, the Eternal Moment.
(T)Here, is the perfection of the One I Am.

In that epiphany, that recognition of the moment of Now, the wholeness, the completeness, the fullness, the pleroma of possibility in this potent quantum unit of time-space - the awakened human glimpses enlightenment. Almost nothing has changed, and yet everything has changed!

There is a dimensional shift in perspective. The “I” of the self looks out through many eyes, knows one Self in each, in All - knows the communion, the continuity of Being - and of Not-being. This is the ever-living One I Am, outside of time, embodied in the perfection of eternal mind, knowing creation destroyed and reborn in the moment of Now. This is the eternal process of Perfection: perfect in the moment, yet ever expanding into a new, a greater Perfection.

Immortal Being is the “I” that sees
As one within the many,
Yet knows within the One I Am
Speaking the primal Word of Self Expression
Into infinity.

… Envision …

Life is Eternal
Unfolding perfect bloom of being as the Word I Am goes forth,
Creating space, filled with all possibility,
Expanding into I Will Be.

Perfect reflection of that I AM
Beyond time, beyond form,
The I Am One in each most tiny moment links,
Within the golden chain of being, joins
In seamless garment of light -
Worn by the dark well of Being’s birthing.

Perfect and New
In every moment of Eternity –
Dynamic Consummation in communion
With One Self
Breathes forth Creative Word.

Being and Not-Being dancing in relativity,
Sound and silence making meaning,
The music of light and dark,
Chords and contrasts speaking the Word together
Reflects in holographic and awakened “I”.

Perfection embraces All I Am.

Monday, November 23, 2009

A Petal at a Time

A petal at a time unfolds
The nature of the One I Am.
A lotus, a rose ...
Perfection flowering,
Against the black velvet expanse
Of mindspace.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Raison d'Etre

What is this holy grail, that feeds us all
With that which most our palate prizes?
A child? A stone? A book? A cup?
A cross? A crown? A star?
What symbol feeds your soul
And gives you living water
When the world is parched?
Where place you fealty and raise
The banner of your cause for being?

There I Am.

Monday, September 14, 2009

Seeker of Truth

I see you
Seeking, looking everywhere,
Left and right, ahead, behind, above, below,
Out there
In every direction.
Spying a glint, a gleam, a hint -
Rushing forward, reaching out, grasping
Mist and moonlight, dissolving dream of certainty
Flowing away - might as well
Attempt to clasp a sunbeam
In a closed palm.

The light to show
The way to know
The truth, beyond belief or doubt
Escapes the seeker seeking out.
Be still, beloved,
And know
I Am within.

Monday, August 10, 2009

I Am Light

Light is Spirit, stepped down into visibility;
Matter is Light, stepped down into tangibility.

Nothing is
And then
A point of being
All that is
Expanding into
I Am Light
Passing through the prism of Being that I Am
From none to one
And two engendering three, and on beyond …
Initial spark arcing into dimension
Numbering, shaping, limning insubstantial form as concept
In the ocean of illuminated Mind
I Am Idea
Being Creative in process of distinction
Definition and degree descending
Through enlightened heart
Into the plastic aethers
I am holy Fire
Moving through the astral spheres
Kindling desire
Merging with reflection of oneself
Concrete in matter
I am made
Divine substance.

Sunday, July 12, 2009


In the beginning is the thought of all that is to be.
The Source of All, containing all incipient,
from Mother Nothingness
Appears as light born from the dark -
Which was not dark before the Light appeared.

All is within the One omnipotent, omniscient,
Complete within One Self and knowing
Naught beside
Within the Light of that One Self I AM.

And then begins distinction.
From the All that Is, the End and the Beginning,
Through the point of Being
Light begins the journey into form.

First is the darkness of unknowing.
The One draws back to thus create an emptiness
An ebon mirror upon which to reflect OneSelf –
Creating thus the world:
The Light in multiplicity, by darkness given form.

The Spirit moves within the All
As Breath, as Being,
Involuting into form as Living Word

Through worlds of substance ever more concrete,
Through mind made matter by descent from Source
Into Oneself, the Word of Being and Becoming
Becomes Light made Life
Anointed to the purpose of return
To glory in the One
Eternal All complete
The End and the Beginning
And All That Is

Wednesday, April 15, 2009

Gathering In to the Hearthfire

The Sacred Nature of Home
A Meditation in Three Parts


The center of the home is warm, alive --
The flame is there, the hearth is there.
The primal nourishment of body and of soul takes place
In this sacred heart of our humanity.

Gathering in the cold and in the darkness of the year,
We celebrate the warmth, the comfort and familiarity of home,
Of origins, traditions, symbols of the season
Handed down the years.
We come to the feast of thanksgiving
For what we have in hand,
Harvested and stored against the future need.

Yet for a moment we will set aside the thought of future --
Dearth may come, or it may not;
Now is the moment to give thanks
And feel the warmth within us.

We gather to the flame,
As we have done since our first hairy ancestors
Discarded fear in finding the devouring beast of fire
Might be controlled.
We tamed ourselves
To earn the warmth of ancient hearth,
To learn the magic of the culinary arts,
To bask and let the elders at their wintry eventide
Remember and teach. In the warm circle of light
We civilized.


At the great cauldron of the ancient Mother God
All are fed.

The stones of the hearth retain the warmth
Of creative conflagration.
The season’s sacrifice is made.
Our feasting done, we nestle in the glow of dying embers,
And find again our strength in our communion,
In our shared nature. We reaffirm our family ties,
And repeat to one another the tales that make us
Who we think we are,
Stories of beginning, and of wisdom learned through vast
Experience of time. And all is relative to us,
The Family of Man.

From the great womb of the Divine Mother
All is born.

In the embrace of darkness, glowing
We are at one within the Now, unfolding universe
Within itself
In reflection of all possibility.
This is the body of God
Whole, full of all potential, in every moment.
This is the great sire of our tribe of starborn beings
Blooming to awareness in the microscopic shells of flesh,
As in the macrocosmic pulsing of living spirit
That ensouls the galaxies.
The Divine Father cries a single tear in which swim all the worlds
And all the words
And all the wills
That are or are to be, or ever were,
And in whose being we are born.
Thus are we gathered in, a family of one made all, made one,
Made each and every one, and all is relative to us,
The Family of God.


Look back -- Home is the place where we are born and nurtured,
Take our first steps, or skin our knees
In clambering up a favorite tree. Home is our house, our street,
Our neighborhood, our school, our town, our state,
Our country … planet … solar system … galaxy …
Home is our source, our origin.

Yet home is more than the parental womb,
Than any construct made of rooms and walls,
Or clod of stone and metal, or of dancing gas and flame
With myriad attendant whirling satellites,
They with their own attendant spheres --
Yet it is all of these.
Home is the heart of Being.

Look here -- Home is the place where we may rest and feed,
And find our family, our loved ones near.
The feast is moveable; the nomad’s tent is home, wherever it is set.
There is the meal prepared, there is the gathering
About the fire, there thoughts are shared and new ideas
Digested; there, the cradle rocks,
Wide eyes reflect, and dreams are born.

Still -- here’s the paradox:
We learn, when from our flights we are returned,
That home is only truly known by leaving it.
What seemed at first a cozy darkness with a glow
May grow to be a great hall lit with stars,
Or more -- a universe of lights. We only clearly see
as our perspective moves away.