ecstasy dreams

I am an excitable person who only understands life lyrically, musically, in whom feelings are much stronger than reason. I am so thirsty for the marvelous that only the marvelous has power over me. Anything I cannot transform into something marvelous, I let go. Reality doesn’t impress me. I only believe in intoxication, in ecstasy, and when ordinary life shackles me, I escape, one way or another.
—  Anais Nin.

What are you doing here?
What do you want?
Is it music?
We can play music.
But you want more.
You want something & someone new.
Am I right?
Of course I am.
I know what you want.
You want ecstasy
Desire & dreams.
Things not exactly what they seem.
I lead you this way, he pulls that way.
I’m not singing to an imaginary girl.
I’m talking to you, my self.
Let’s recreate the world.
The palace of conception is burning.

Look. See it burn.
Bask in the warm hot coals.

You’re too young to be old
You don’t need to be told
You want to see things as they are.
You know exactly what I do


You never hugged me; you clutched
and squeezed me, almost
desperately trying to
pull me nearer
and nearer
until I dissolved in you.

trying to make me
feel –
just how much you loved me.

As if you were pulling me inside your
chest to make me live there forever.

And I would sigh in ecstasy 

and dream –

God, I loved you; I loved you divinely,
like a god brought to his knees in
a genuflection to a power
greater than 

I was a giant in your arms; a Titan,
yet only because every particle
of my body broke free
and shone as light,

I dissolved in your arms, there you kept me.

- M.A. Tempels © 2016

“How do we distinguish what is good in pleasure from what is bad?
Go, therefore, to your fields and orchards, and there you will learn that the pleasure of the bee is sucking the flower honey,
But the pleasure of the flower is delivering honey to the bee.
For to the bee a flower is a fountain of life.
And to the flower a bee is a messenger of love.
And to both, bee and flower, giving and receiving pleasure is a need and an ecstasy. ”

The Dreams Of Sower

The true Sabbat is simultaneously a state of Dreaming-consciousness and an extradimensional locus where the convocation of the living and the dead occurs and the Great Return which leads to a new becoming is achieved. The celebrants of the Sabbat gather in the twilit forests and the mist-shrouded meadows of Elphame and through the averse formulae of the infinite return, deliberately ‘go backwards’ to that which lies behind all phenomena and consciousness, the ineffable source of all creation glyphed in the Witch-Mysteries by the Cauldron and the Cavern.

This mystical self-reversion or initiatic regression to the root of All is synonymous with the Horned God’s law of Misrule. It provides the inner metaphysic of ritual reversal, symbolised by the Backwards Prayer, the Widdershins Dance, and the black tapers ceremonial inversions characteristic of the Sabbat-Rite. All these infer the way of initiatic return and self-reversal to the ground and matrix of primeval unity which is the true state of Sabbatic ecstasy.

…The Dream-Sabbat is the supreme rite of the Witches, a total actualisation of the Great Mystery - all restrictions and bonds are overcome there. The separations between god, human and beast dissolve in a polymorphous inferno of extasis, the secret rapture of inner Witchdom. Thus the Sabbat is a dream, a dream of such potency that the profane world seems pallid and unreal by comparison. To enter into this sacred world of paradaisal night-revels requires consummate agility of the Dream-Body and the employment of techniques to sidestep and diminish the hold of profane perceptual conditioning, enabling the leap or flight to the ‘Other Side’ to be effected.

Nigel Jackson, Masks of Misrule: The Horned God and His Cult in Europe.