| My mother didn't know that a soul has ears. Her mother didn't know it either. The mother's haven't
known it for some time. They had it knocked out of them by the 'Christian' fathers of Europe who tortured and burned
it out of thousands of mothers and daughters as well as men of conscience and knowing. And the dark side of the moon wept for the Patriarchy out of her third eye that had been gouged but never blinded. And whereas once intuition had been the gift to all humankind, women have now to journey to the dark side of the moon for it and men must journey to the moon. The collective soul of humankind is in exile; she is hovering somewhere above us. Our cries of pain and anguish do not impress her. She is un-moved. She cannot hear the cries above her own. We must calm her first if we want to get her attention. Acts of atrocities do not fool her; neither do they excite her passion. She is wooed only by unbridled love that is hewn from the rock gathered from the dark side of the moon. What is a soul? It is the stuff that human life is made of. It fills us up. Without it we are hollow. It is woven from material both human and divine. You may be asking how I can speak with such authority. I am like you, a living soul, once outcast from my home, but always hopeful of imminent return. I have journeyed to the dark side of the moon. I have wandered naked and unashamed. I have stood in the fire of the midday sun. I am wanted. There's a price on my head and it's been paid. |