Virtual Tantra: the Ionasphere --


by Iona Miller, 2000 - 2002

Temple of Living Light

Show me your mysteries, I'll show you mine
As we embark outside this space and time.
Clasping hands we'll join the dance divine,
Flowing gently toward eternal rhyme.

Tell me your fantasies, I'll tell you mine
Show me your ecstasies that flow as wine.
Together we'll reach the highest peak sublime,
Drinking deeply from the spring of time.

Try as we might...
So many chambers in which to dwell

To reach the heights...
From the bottom of the wishing well

With second sight...
How we ascend only time will tell

To the Temple of Living Light...
Far beyond heaven and hell

Bare your heart to me, I'll give you mine
Though all alone we might be flying blind.
Through embrace fire and ice entwine,
Surging and merging as the ocean tide.


Now we've passed all the portals,
Come to the house of Immortals.
The sky becomes one with its clouds,
All of our visions allowed.
We hold the Sun and Moon as our witness;
Love alone, the test of our fitness.


I nakedly desired you before the world began.
Now and then I desired you again and again.
A vein of sapphires, a heart of ruby,
Eyes so radiant, I loved you truly.
My body and soul became your mirror,
And you became even dearer.

Every pore of my body is drenched in bliss,
Recalling the flame of your saffron kiss.
Within our bodies are fragrant gardens,
Where selfless love bears effortless fruit.
Our souls whirled in ecstatic certainty,
And all we were doing was breathing eternity.

You are the moon and I am its phases;
Echoes alone are left of our traces.


The Sun of the One I love
Has risen in the night.
Embodying emanations
Of liquified delight.
I am drenched in devotions
Waves, streams, and oceans.

Twin serpents form a healing force
Burning desire permits no recourse.
Entering a deeper rapture
Unborn form is all we capture.

Such an embrace is magnetically compelling;
We dissolve in bliss unending.
Something precious has taken place,
It's written in pearls all over my face.
Liberated, our being sinks in surrender,
No One is left to be a defender.

Love like this makes meaning possible;
Nature herself provides wand and vessel.
Infinite power of expression with might,
Flies without wings on the blackness of night.

Sun and Moon die in the bath of Immortality
For the birth of the power of true Reality.
Our bodies become a jewelled irridescence;
We've captured the Stone, made the Quintessece.
Renewal of Spirit defies all description,
Nature herself suspends her encryption.

Vision becomes a way of seeing and knowing.
The gift of comprehension--infinity glowing.
Caught in the flux of secret inpouring
Seeds of rejuvination gently imploring.

No force could deny such holy transgression.
We surrender to this loving possession.
Soul and Spirit joined in magnanamous pleasure,
Our hearts entwined forever and ever.



I've given up silks and fine array.
Clothed only in you, Beloved, found another Way.
A penetrating shaft of Light, a ray of bliss,
A touch, a kiss; what infinite joy is this!

Wrought neither of fire nor of foam
Our candle dance forms a lyrical poem.
All night long teaching love tricks to the moon,
We've ridden from Not-being, to Being in tune.

[Chorus 1]
Shoreless space holds ten thousand moon and skies
On wings of building desires, swiftly love flies.
Raining opalescent pearls without any clouds,
Beyond the intensity mere passion enshrouds.

We linger awhile on the lip of oblivion,
Before taking the plunge, diving deeply therein.
We've learned the Curtain's sacred mystical secret.
Now purified hearts yearn only to keep it.

A living fountain emanating colors of the soul.
We are mingled in moist ecstasy beyond all control.
Love's sea bursts when the sky is torn away.
For Truth, I gave my life to bring you peace today.



In the silence, a garden of calm,
Engenders the perfume of a healing balm.
A blessed memory of a wild nature,
Full of life and hard to capture.
An untouched lily full of dew,
A greater yearning never knew.

Virtue is a thousand shields,
But cannot keep the plow from fields.
To taste divine Felicity,
Yield to fervent electricity.
Glowing with a fragrant air
Hiding not from love's sweet stare.

Endurance is a mighty charm
Borne heavenward by golden arms.
Mounting before the celestial throne,
The soul, a dark and narrow dungeon
Where my buried treasure lay,
Ravished purity, formless, dross stripped away.

On the very altar, a light without fire
Kindled by a madness beyond all desire.
Quintessence, the elixer of Sages,
Contains the Essence of the Ages.
This Truth hides, in fact, a garden of pleasure,
By whatever means we may choose to measure.

Nothing is beyond our reach.
Even things that injure surely teach.
Nothing is beautiful but the True,
Which lifts our hearts and makes all new.
In the Book of Life every chapter,
Leads toward a higher rapture.

The language of truth is simple:
The rewards of love are more than ample.
Truth is called the daughter of time,
That to which we all incline.
Truth is near and yet we seek it far away,
Forgetting it is always only today.

The questions drop from a life devoted,
Answered before they are even noted.
The whole of life one continuous prayer;
Creating as natural as breathing air.
From the garden of calm to being ravished,
Sweet love upon me has been lavished.


The pathway of love is the ordeal of fire.
Two spirits lightly strive together,
To take one another's fullest measure.
And capture love's sweetest treasure.
Playing a tune on the fleshly lyre,
Hypnotic rapture takes us ever higher.

The light within our souls, brighter than the Sun.
Seized with aching discontent until the dance is done.
Stung by desire, isolation breached, seized by holy ecstasy,
Delicious link that unites the lover with me.
Locked hopefully in actionless action,
Surrendered to the pull of primal seduction.

Lightning flash and limitless grace,
Zeal grows in the heart until our passions dissipate.
We receive the divine kiss in the closest embrace,
Rising above human senses, in love we do penance.
All earthly pleasures fade into nothingness,
Plunged into the unity of the motionless Presence.

Born at a banquet of the gods, in the inner dimension,
Divine love the eternally supreme attraction.
For that act of love, we create a paradise,
Where our only desire is sanctification.
The Adored fills all and brings true meaning,
Bewildering us with brilliant gleaming.

Irresistably stripped of all our sheaths,
We are dazzled by beauty lying beneath.
The madness of love is the greatest of blessings,
Whose deepest caress is perfect initiating.
Hearts melt in joy, Spirit enters body so bold.
Heaven breaks through the veil of this world.
God desires us still more intently.



Mingle mystical substances to realize the goal,
Perfecting intimate Knowledge of the infinite soul.
Bring forth entire "the incorruptible One,"
Engendered in the silent eclipse of the Sun.
Gate of heavenly peace, enter through this Sundoor;
Replenish the well-springs of life and creation, evermore.

Lead to the root of my heart's true affection,
Awaiting luminescent visitation, deep in self-introspection.
Yet seeking His scent on my clothes and my skin,
Aetheric essence, balsam, and panacea generated within.
Fragrant notes of the honey of white and red lily deepen,
Our journey will end in Hermes' bath of regeneration.

This scent, a meditative pursuit of ultimate worth,
Denotes mortal Death reversed in continuous birth.
No more poetic veils conceal when appetites are stilled,
Immortal vehicles mounted, all our needs fulfilled.
The conjunction we strive for, a philosophical operation,
Tainted by nothing so common as carnal temptation.

Only through a medium can the transition take place;
King and Queen dissolve in water, leaving barely a trace.
Spiritual water, the "marriage maker" secretly appears,
Binding truth hidden in matter, alaying all fears.
Quintessence is cooked, stirred in the natural vessel,
In dissolving, "shared death," slaying holy and special.

Radiant emanations in a brilliant mandala,
Disclosure of the final sacred secret of mystical Qabala.
All symbols gone, eternity stripping mythology,
Left alone in the Silence, devoid of all terminology.
Unio mystica, soaring aloft, peaceful as a dove;
Lost in endless cascades of limitless Supernal love.

Magically effective substance, "panacea spagyric,"
Distillation of theory and practice of the mystic.
Turning that which is not into that which will be,
Soar on winged feet into the clouds of ecstasy.
Beyond celestial markers of the soul's inner caelum,
Drink the medicine of Wisdom, find the spirit's asylum.

Untold virtues gallore from this incorrupt medicament,
Which leads us seductively from our ancient predicament.
Down this "dew of grace," known only to a refined few,
Aqua vitae, rosmaryed substance of celestial sea-dew.
Child of two parents -- the elements and heaven,
Transmutes all bodies to their true disposition.

Angels stand rapt in inexpressable wonder,
Stunned at the honeyed silence of love's sacred thunder.
"Sparks of light," scintillae; "sweet odor" of the Spirit.
"Enchanter's nightshade" draws the soul near it.
Cast off your old garments, magnetically ascend,
Nowhere does soul begin and body end.

Replenish the well-springs of creation with life evermore.



Supreme intelligence dances in the soul,
Footsteps left in glittering light across celestial bowl.

Clad in golden ornaments and transparent tarlatan,
Dropping all outer garments of linen and muslin.
Source of lovers' passions swelling in their fullness,
Ravishment filling you with instantaneous, joyous bliss.
Swirling, diving, twirling, continuously in motion,
Drunk on the holy wine of God's potent potion.

Passionate energy of erotic engagement,
Love will not bear even the finest containment.
Sensual transcendence, exotic and taboo,
Can still the fire of what love can do.
Partners melting in contagious ecstasy,
Each anointing as many as a hundred shrines a day.

In the artful trance of dancers' gestures,
Each follows the line of the other's postures.
Embracing in some esoteric tarantela,
The mad dance of ecstasy and movement mania.
The suitably united mold to the mystic dance,
Responding to what each partner intiates, by stance.

A new ballet, weaving a graceful pas de deux,
Great dance of existence, which becomes a pas seul.
Heightened experience, vibratory movements and rhythms,
The beat of the drums and the pulsings of sistrums.
Melody and harmony swell and build, and shrink,
Finally refined into ecstasy, so totally sacrosanct.

Enraptured, spinning into imageless Ultimate Reality,
Existing only by virtue of its own intrinsicality.
Devoid of thought in the timeless now of bliss,
Splendor and Glory lie where we cease to exist.
Erotic explosion, simultaneous resonance;
Temperance, deep communion, fortuitous circumstance.

Surrender to intense experience, wild Dervish dance,
Then relax completely into God's holy ordinance.
Feel total expansion, bathe in that perpetual irradiation,
Beauty, Mightiness, and Mercy open a whole new dimension.
Unborn, uncontained by any form of being,
Spontaneously initiated into a whole new way of seeing.

The source of creation is a transparent act of love,
Vision-weaver, metacosmically directing from above.
Emerging at the root of the spiritual spectrum,
The dance of life provides a balanced fulcrum.
Universal seed of evanescent panorama,
Revealing untold mysteries of the celestial diorama.

At the summit, Eternal Present, Eye of Eternity,
Most welcome initiation into life's spiritual fraternity.


1001 nights in the "Suitably Paired" Pavilion,
Might be all that rescues us from certain oblivion.
She awaits, dressed in only silken kaftan,
While he journeys to her over hill and mountain,
Speaking the secret words of “open sesame,”
Embroidering liquid words like finest filigree.

Hearken back to the tales of Sinbad and Ali Baba,
Listen to ancient heroes exclaim with a cry of “Aha!
Tales as bold as those of lovely Scheherezade,
Told nightly on the balcony of harem’s promenade.
Her craftiness could not be stolen by the Thief of Bagdad,
For secrecy and occult forces it strongly forbade.

Guided only by the spinning spheres of cosmic Astrolabe,
Return to the primal womb, like the smallest little babe.
All things conspire to produce the chemical aphrodisiac,
That pervades the entire universe and informs the Zodiac.
Bodies gracefully contoured like the finest of jade,
Clad only in abundance of tatoos and silken brocade.

She embraces him like a clinging-vine limbed courtesan,
Only lately come with kama sutra from from far-away Hindustan.
He is charmed and enraptured by love’s truest artisan,
Just carried here by long-ranging camel caravan,
Bearing all manner of lapis, carnelian, and quartz,
Spices, shells, pearls and treasures of all sorts.

We whisper now the secret spell of abrahadabra,
By the glistening light of a single candalabra.
Conjuring in the smokey glow of wildly burning incence,
Soon the sacred elixer will magically condense.
Precipitating universal solvent, alchemical alkahest,
That only love makes real and materially manifest.

Arriving like a genie with a flair of arabesque,
Skin like sparkling marble, beautifully statuesque.
Both now entranced by puffs of hookah smoking herb,
Which potion wafts a fragrance considered most superb.
The time and place was chosen by loyal court astrologer,
For him to plow and deeply plant his royal scimitar.

She, a radiant gem of brilliant purple amythyst,
Both he and she most-passionate confirmed hedonist.
Creating a heavenly atmosphere of richest opulence,
Together circumnavigate the earth’s circumference.
He pursues his course like an anointed holy crusader,
Because, in fact, he is so much more than fleshly invader.

We purify ourselves with rose and fragrant frankincence,
The only way to cure the poison of moral impotence.
Now forthright, sheathing sword within its scabbard,
True words of love and magick, he softly jabbered.
Eternally, on and on the incantations he babbled,
Until she softly surrendered, slightly more than bedazzled.

Opening arcane treasure chambers of sacred relics,
Like the sensual high of mind-expanding psychedelics.
In the radiant clear light of primal magnificense,
Revealed, at last, splendour of God’s great omnipotence.
Each time love blooms anew, ultimately we dedicate,
All the fragrant productions of alchemical distillate.

We find our paradise when we truly believe in it,
The rewards of its pleasures are finitely infinite.
These debauchees share the sweetest banquet feast,
Entertained by astral dancers and celestial artiste.
Now the sky becomes opalescent, shell like pure abalone,
For consummation of the royal marriage of divine syzygy.

6    . . .1001


Here’s an invitation to the pillow, my tantric high priest,
As intimate as it is compelling, from your audacious artiste:
A whiff of natural aromas suffusing the air, most succulent,
The apogee of sensuality lies within our joint corporeal embodiment.
We see that Clear Light which insists on shining, lunar and solar,
Rapt souls remember taste and smell alone of a transit circumpolar.

Responding to the scent of universally seductive jasmine and hyacinth,
Come join in a dance, part the curtains, come explore my labyrinth.
This love taps all our primal emotions like a long-forgotten moonrise;
Slavishly aroused by chemical messengers, volatile molecules atomize.
We imagine from the distance echoing strains of a musical rondeau,
Round and round, Bacchinalian delights lead to amorous vertigo.

In a hazy reverie of past encounters, bent over backwards romantic,
Reveals that emotions which lie below conscious thought are oceanic.
The heart of sweet remembering is all too precious, red as garnet,
Recalling the rush of emotion and memory until it is incarnate.
Reaching into our emotional lives is this bewitching call of the siren,
She who has been exposed to everything by the likes of a Lord Byron.

Once we begin emerging from the deepest caves in our minds, shyly,
Revealing ourselves, all manner of things can happen, wild and wily.
A combination of scent and embodied sensuality is unusually attractive,
Involuntary powers interact, whether dominant or submissive, co-active.
The chemical essence of animal communication is distinctive and flagrant,
A residual aroma suffusing the air leaving it so redolent and fragrant.

Lubricating sticky fluid runs down my cheek, liquified and milky,
Preparing the way for a symphony of sensations, elegant and silky.
The master and mistress of this plan, God and Nature, make it brilliant,
It helps us cope with the problems of life and keeps us ever-resilient.
Here’s a strong sensuous signal: come and lay your head on my pillow,
To your incarnating power I will voluntarily bend like a sapling willow.

In olden times, divine courtesans gave their all to the Magna Mater,
To sacred hierodules came one and all to worship that holy krater.
They sought fertility and fruition, a salve regeneratively creative,
The real pleasures in life help us bond with joys so cumulative.
Some still know the muskiness of sex without guilt or soap, soul bathing,
In which each is the extension of the other, each the other’s plaything.

Licked and pumped from deep within, a draught so rich and creamy,
Comes from the south, from that fertile crescent, hot and steamy.
Smells are surer than sound or vision, sensory input incessant,
To make our organs respond in tune and grow infinitely tumescent.
Tastes and smells can be sensuously heavy or light as a feather;
They make our heartstrings sing, while we are writhing together.

Initiated by the ardor of hot-blooded Mars, the “prospector,”
Answered from the core of emotions, dove-like Venus, the reflector.
Sweep me up in your arms, my beloved, be my morning’s highlight,
Or take me in the ever-dimming glow of the dwindling twilight.
Universally gifted, both gleaming now, all radiant and smiling,
The emanations of sacred body’s manifest form is oh so beguiling.

All of these aspects reflect the divine virtues of complete arousal,
Spiritual, mental, emotional and physical declarations of espousal.
Stimulating associations evoke, frighten, arouse and scintillate,
A roaring cascade of sensations and imagery they begin to initiate.
Lovers create an astral temple all their own, deep inside a starry vault,
Whose canopy is held aloft by a singular sturdy column of basalt.

We fall together like the Walls of Jerico, breaking down our ramparts,
Eliminating all restrictive barriers between the worlds of sweethearts.
The rush of that confluence is downright irresistable and torrid,
Then our human scent trail dissipates, left behind in sheets now florid.
Is this an intimation of evolution’s goal to shortly realize homo lumen;
Are we possibly on the long winding road to becoming superhuman?

No human experience can surpass our most sacred and holy function;
Mere friction cannot replace the mystery of the mystic conjunction.
Tentative signals formerly crossed now become highly convergent,
That most elusive of senses is now primary, charged and resurgent.
After such yearning for full baptism in that precipitated ablution,
You can’t fail to recognize filling up, becoming the ultimate solution.

Some say that the single light-filled eye is the strongest creative force,
Outranking privileged and intimate access freely granted, of course.
But light, rare innermost odors, or flavors can’t be kept sealed in a phial,
Let’s exchange molecules, bits of ourselves, not just light like a sundial.
Through our many senses all of nature’s given pleasures we imbibe
Stilled, the mysterious ode of the universe is not hard to hear or transcribe.


In my perfumed garden, I dreamed of oriental spicey cinnamon,
The light was golden-rose, like some days so magnificently halcyon.
The blossoms of the morning the sweetest honeysuckle and tuberose,
Under whose influence even the strongest of lovers swiftly propose.
A tangy note within the yard of orange neroli, or fragrant bergamot,
Reminds us of those pregnant loves unborn, those dreams yet unbegot.

The promise of the buds of May, the first flush of tiny rosebud,
Heralds spring fever and all the joys of a tender emotional flood.
The swell of all feelings and the promise of the ripening of desire,
Could match the courageous royal blue of the finest Asian sapphire.
The fine distillation of emotional realizations we avidly admire,
And the confident ardour of the Beloved to which we daily aspire.

Crocus, hyacinths, and daffodils send an early loving Valentine,
And raise their heads to praise the Lord, in the brilliant sunshine.
Filled with the antique golden light of a masterpiece Florentine,
Radiant bulbs raised from the dead in Spring, like Proserpine.
Scotch broom, acacias, and anemones burst near the sea and brine,
Night bloomers glisten and glow in the softest vernal moonshine.

Drawn extraction and condensation of lavender and starry jessamin,
There is no finer smell than an essence so absolutely genuine.
Therefore, no quest is too hard to lay at her feet a perfume so exquisite,
It becomes clear why so many virtues and ordeals are tacitly requisite.
All parts of a game to woo his love, and for him to win her maidenhood,
With gifts of great fancy and opulence and carved boxes of sandalwood.

In a powerful skill whose wisdom and lore is a magickal hierloom,
Lies a liquid genie embodied and from a bottle set free -- perfume!
Its entrancing ordour is far more mighty than any bold broadsword;
It etches the memory and always strikes a deeper olfactory chord.
Retreat to the sanctuary of the healing scent of nature’s counselor,
Perfumery, the most neglected of Hermetic Arts, is not mere metaphor!

Why all around the entire globe did adventurous men bestride?
For cooking of essences shares it roots with alchemy, we confide.
What other consecrated oils can compare with noble ambergris?
In perfume magic, fragrant desire is born of the essence of reality.
The clarified body of the high note of a gum benzoin, or styrax,
Can ring clearer than the black and white philosophy of Abrasax.

The essence of Qabala includes a perfumer’s absolute extracts:
Many fabled scents including fragrances of aloes, saffron, and storax.
Some of them come from far-off lands and some in the garden grows,
Like Dittany of Crete, poppy, jasmine, amber, spikenard, and rose.
And many other fragrant flowers and resinous crystals of finest gums,
Like myrrh and frankincense, camphor, cedar, mastic, and galbanums.

Without the time or inclination for perpetually renewing seduction,
Much of the work can be accomplished through chemical reduction.
Scented cues of olibanum, myrrh, violet, and animal musk and civet,
Release our soul’s inhibitions and allow us to deeply live within it.
The juices of love are then released like nature’s liquid flowing amber,
And the love of God is also set free, so long as we care to remember.

So lay down your head, my love, on a deliciously perfumed pillow;
And let all manner of lavish scents around you form and billow.
Come to the garden’s makeshift bed within love’s hidden bier.
And find the joy within that place to raise the ante higher.
Then eat the fruit of sweet pomegranate trees that lie in garden’s wall,
And taste the pleasure of holy love revelling in scented euphoric recall.

With careful and appropriate blending and fixation of discrete essences,
Are presciently forecast the rudiments of animated erotic dalliances.
Spirit and matter, most ethereal yet material, but not-so-thin air,
Meet and match in the haunting challenge of an olfactory double dare.
From the distillation of love’s sublimation, “Solve et Coagula,”
We tame the fire of the volatile oils and drink in their oooh-la-la.

The distillation of our volatile spirit is analogous to enflourage,
Heavenly scents waft over us, covered with petals of a floral decoupage,
Some lovers carry that fragrance away on an animal-musky goatee,
From a luscious floral sanctuary with more suitors than Penelope.
Promise of joys, anguish, and growth in her silken, perfumed hair,
For brave hearts who would enter that circular, enclosed garden lair.


Arise! Embrace your universe as a spiritual advancer;
Live the immediate passionate life of the avid romancer.
Let yourself be stunningly seized by divine seduction,
Then perpetually entangled in a voluntary abduction.
That transcendent kind of mystic transport takes us away,
Revealing us totally naked, unveiled by even filmy negligee.

Within the heart’s cauldron those tender emotions seethe;
She patiently longs for him his embattled sword to sheathe.
Just the loving touch of a precocious digit or prosaic dactyl,
Can be infinitely risque, consuming, and sensuously tactile;
To all the nerve endings of the smoothest skin of alabastor;
Nothing more highly charged since the good vs. evil of Zoroaster.

The aura of love itself creates an atmosphere so sultanic,
We dream of revealing self, removing volumes of veils, diaphanic.
This divine drama takes place in many a heavenly mansion,
Each a discrete state with myriad rooms for consciousness expansion.
The union is like jasmine-scented high priestess, slightly mantic,
Fused with ziggurat-building Babylonian priest, hierophantic.

In the fertile trading crossroads cultures of the era Hellenic,
Arose legends of the mythic realm whose source is psychogenic.
Way back when, we hear the gods did mere mortals chasten,
They to our sides, and we to their devout worship did hasten.
Inspired by their emergence many a soul would hearten.
Even though a victim of love, strong and bold as a Spartan.

Wash away all doubt, “Lavabis me;” we all seek ablution,
In that sparkling holy water without the minutest dilution.
That most essential element in the alchemical formulary,
Represents the luscious Moon, that illustrious luminary.
In a low-heat oven whose lustral fire is gently alchemic,
Is produced an Elixer whose value is not even academic.

We love to tend that smouldering fire immensely,
Watching it catch and burn even much more intensely.
It has been the secret goal of many a wiley contendor,
To let the lizard in the torrid fire completely surrender.
And then enjoy the fruits of that spiritual ascendance,
Which brings in its calm wake a passionate resplendence.

Never doubt the corporeal reality of that great rapture,
Which can always come back, but never love totally recapture.
In constant dynamic motion are the basic elements of the equation,
Which must be balanced equal powers before the final persuasion.
Then you may find you casually want to drop your shielding armor,
To win and posses your natural kin and kundalini snake charmer.

We know that life at the edge of both worlds is precarius,
As a wild hunt in the woods with the archer, Sagittarius.
The way of Art, Trump XIV, the Path of the Arrow,
Is even quicker than the spiritual ascent of the pharaoh.
No need for dreams of the remedies of arcane apothecary;
Our best cures are psychophysical and largely imaginary.

It is the impetus of panspermia that keeps creation so fertile,
A potion of Aphrodite, blended with Damask rose and myrtle.
We all know “Life Stinks,” as strong as a perfume-soaked houri,
Treaure chest of the odor of Eden captured as herbal potpouri.
The voice of nature rises high as if Appassionata had a lyric;
Eternal dance of life and immortality sing a praising panegyric.

The timbre of that song is softly swelling and melodic,
And reflects the history of aeons of lifetides episodic.
This sound is echoed in microcosmic life lived symbolic;
Intertwined fates’ twists and turns are hyperparabolic.
Symbols of change are synchronistically respondent;
To the right eyes are, vis a vis, qabalistically correspondent.

We can finally join it all together in a universal embrace,
With the entire cosmos and the brotherhood of human race.

(A Full Moon Song)

Virgin of the Middle Pillar, divine universal Bride;
Concealed behind seven veils, on many planes she hides.
Known by myriad names: Artemis, Isis, and High Priestess,
Our love for Mary, Shekinah, and Sophia ardently increases.

Essentially one-in-herself, whether Full or in Crescent,
She commands our attention to be fully focused and present.
Not only reflective, she bears her divinity in her own right.
Her own luminosity reflects inner light so lustrous and bright.

She excites adoration with meaning and profound significance;
Which of her forms you invoke hardly makes any difference.
Both black and white virgins eternally stand on the moon,
Singing an ageless song of audible silence, always in tune.

Bright moon and dark moon, two sides of the same coin;
The new moon of darkness eclipses sun when they conjoin.
The bride Malka, the Universal Night, the lover of Yesod;
The Arty Miss of arrow’s flight; finally, sacred Wife of God.

Whatever metaphorm she takes, she is the path to mystical union,
That spiritual destination which is our true home and final fusion.
Find yourself and God in this reflection of deepest feminine nature,
Surrender to the deepest void, and empty out all sense of creature.

The psychological force of the Magna Dea has the power to mold;
Her shrines are lost, but within her whims our destiny she holds.
Guardian of the path to the Supernals, and embodiment of Grace,
The sacred impact of her mystical communion we can never erase.

In spiritual ordeals, we suffer slings and arrows of fate and Diana;
When we suffer even more eloquently, it opens the door of Nirvana.
Surrounded in an atmosphere of electric blue and silver sterling,
She reveals herself echoing an ambrosial chant, her final veil unfurling.


The constant immediacy of my wholehearted consort,
Inflames irresistable impulses to which we resort.
Standing fully revealed in all your naked charms,
Making up for lost time, take me in your arms.

I implore you in words too soft to hear the vocal timbre,
Almost silently exuding from your lover, lithe and limber.
Taken by sweet surprise when you came into the chamber,
I uttered sounds always spoken by the eternal exclaimer.

Unrehearsed, such love uninhibited and multi-positional,
Can be brilliantly lustrous, uncontrived and intuitional.
Graspingly seize me and caress me, kiss me about the face;
Come to me now, so tempted, be ever lively in your embrace.

To my jaded heart laid bare, we share the same sexual taste;
To draw sustenance from the Well of Souls we fleetingly race.
Like pastoral Daphnis and Chloe, on the same frequency,
Naturally desirous of love full-blown, with no aura of secrecy.

At this confection of the sensual image of the Loved One,
Is it any great wonder we mutually come undone?
Lathered stallion riding into the depths of a moist valley,
I guide my blind favorite into a winding exitless alley.

Has there ever been such a mischievous sex ploy,
Even since the legendary fables of Helen of Troy?
With heroically sweet violence, inflict those pleasures,
Which others perceive contain vast troves of treasures.

I implore you again and again to come inside,
And let the breeze whip you like the salty seaside.
That fine spray rapidly dissolves our senses in a geyser,
That ushers in illumination, a tantric spiritual advisor.

Short gasps of an extremely melodious ambrosian chant,
Need to breath deeply of air like fine wine to decant.
Oh, what final joy to succumb to this urgent obsession,
In a myriad of ways a polymorphous trans-gression.

Now quietly sheltered in the warm hospitality of eternity,
The loving union of our close-conspiring dual commitee.
Who wouldn’t terminate the day with an anointing ritual,
Drawn from well-springs replenished by an art so spiritual.



Allusions are many in the language of the heart,
Spoken from one transfinite soul to its other part.
The seat of pleasure is not sole organ of desire,
The fueled mind can also be enflammed or set afire.

She longs to drink at the jade fountain of the bull;
He to enter the silken gateway of jade till full. 
Wrapped in the strength of a seductive abductor,
Yielding thighs scream surrender to he who stole her.

Who can resist the ardour of strenuous inventiveness?
Which hotly fans the fires of voluptuous desirousness.
Great strength of will determines which most endures,
And which of the partners the most pleasure secures.

For there is more to this significant sacrament,
Than mere volition, friction, or the urge to beget.
Indeed, soul embodied is the first seed of the spirit,
And all who perceive this do homage to revere it.

So come now, and urgently knock on my door,
Pick my lock, and love me like never before.
Let angels sing and bells peal with redolence;
Peel me and take your pleasure in supine indolence.

There is no ingenuous charade in this hot fling,
Our eyes now see only an auric pyrolith, manifesting.
Mesmerized by your lover, a succubus sanctified,
When each of us with joy is thrilled and liquified.

Love is a lesser version of a soul possessed by god,
It elevates and comforts us, and assuages nature’s bod.
Its acts are always more pure pleasure than effort,
An infinite circle which we ever seek to re-court.

A trance suspending spacetime in spinning vertigo,
Leaves its traces in the palpable vision of afterglow.
Who could account for such golden transfiguration,
Which surely is much more than the result of sensation?

Enclosed in your arms, amid the silken pillows,
You’ve had me like the sky has had cloud-laden billows.



Is what brings joy the best thing to do?
You have a beautiful perfume about you!
In age-old love affairs, the eye is a creative force,
But fulfillment of fantasy is just as strong, of course.
In love we can’t do enough, we can’t get enough;
Remaining composed in a world made of dreams is tough.

Don’t trust your eyes; don’t rely only on your senses,
Until everything is revealed by dropping all pretenses.
For the lure of requitive pursuit in the game of amour,
Neglecting traditions could be a vain spiritual detour.
That actions beget results is surely beyond all certainty,
For we know what we do in life forever echoes in eternity.

If we could just find a way the misted future to behold,
You would see my ethereal image in your arms you enfold.
Come to my house, find me recklessly seductive and gracious,
Make many bold advances, but do not be too audacious.
Taste with me exotic, forbidden fruits, ripe and succulent,
The fertility rights of our adult full-blown embodiment.

My silken gown is billowing, alluring in its airy sheerness,
Inviting you now my body to thin layer-by-layer undress.
The universal passport to a trip around the entire globe,
A ticket to paradise, once we drop all masks and fully disrobe.
A loving receptacle covered in jewels, almost completely nude,
Love’s resurrection is lascivious, perhaps, but never quite lewd.

An oil massage to make us even more slippery, moist and smooth,
Languid murmurings with a gentle voice to calm and soothe.
Float and drift or soar in the heightened atmosphere of romance,
Senses heightened with all the expectant tension of a seance.
You, my love, all pale and purple, please come to me at dusk,
Your ready manhood redolent with sandalwood and musk.

Speaking, sub rosa, only the silent secret language of sweethearts,
I break down your defenses and easily storm your steely ramparts.
You are cordially invited into my innermost sacred temple of jade,
Where you are ardently welcomed by a flooding emotional cascade.
The occult and arcane meaning woven by a bilingual, cunning tongue,
Invariably leaves me overwrought, heart’s ease definitely unstrung.

An ancient tale picked up again, foretold by a star-crossed horoscope,
Only reveals thinly-veiled hints about how in the eternal dark we grope.
Enraptured, unleashed passion hotly welding the bond we forge,
Emergent pulsations encompassing all flooding canyons to engorge.
Greedily stealing kisses, in perpetually fiery feelings we embroil,
Shuddering makes our enlivened kundalini serpents uncoil.

You can travel wide from mountain tops to dew-filled fount,
And drink your fill till drunk, my sweaty muscular mount.
Blissfully enduring wave after wave of throbbing heartfelt shock,
As our physical bodies seek to geometrically interlock.
On the astral plane naked emotions and minds delicately fuse,
Then as One throughout the whole universe we suffuse.

Embracing wildly, cocooned in a Gordion knot of love and lust,
With fiery stab into my secret soft center your wand is thrust.
This coup de gras is more than a mere instinct or an impulse;
In a suspended moment of pure magic we irresistably convulse.
Surging like sea spum or a bursting supernova combust,
An immediate reminder of our cosmic history as ancient stardust.

With each and every varied act, the myriad joys of night intensify,
And arouse an evergreen desire and deepest yearnings satisfy.
Feelings wake and stir and build into a crescendo ending abrupt,
As in a joint chorus of amorous sighs volcanic energies erupt.
With ambrosia, our holy mingled essence, one another we anoint;
Linger in a timeless place, bathed in warmth of afterglow conjoint.


Was it an apple that Eve offered Adam within reach,
Or was it the molten fragrance of the deep cleft peach?
Such rich juices flowed from that first spiritual insemination;
Adam eating this fruit initiated man’s perpetual mystification.
To taste once more the singular delight of that divine nectar,
We may surrender, following the fine line of our spirit’s vector.

Each lifeform in its own way loyally mates by species and genus,
According to the inescapable mandate of dominatrix goddess Venus.
An unspoken third party is the mounting drive of sexual tension,
Even though it may grow concealed silently with barely a mention.
Foreplay is induction of a deep trance like that of oracle or chanter,
In this mystical state, I receive the gift of my spiritual seed implanter.

Becoming more bold in love’s flush, I invite you to indulge your fetish,
I make myself blush, for in the heat of rapture I am quite coquettish.
Just look at yourself, playing my leading role as the sun-faced beamer,
You gaze longingly at me who cast herself as the moon-faced dreamer.
Let’s come together and marry souls, let us merge our parts so tender,
Casting fate to the wind in abandonment, delight of carnal splendor.

Our vocalizations of enjoyment rise in a single melodious voice,
Embodying mystical hermaphrodite, Two-as-One ecstatically rejoice.
Each empathically pacing the other’s more rapid heavy breathing,
And moving in timed synchronization, sinuous and gently writhing.
Keeping the beat, the rising heat of passion forging a deep connection,
Raising the dead, like Solomon with the plans for temple erection.

All the gifts of bejeweled body and soul that upon my love I lavish,
Are all repaid in full when he in turn my deepest soul will ravish.
An imaginatively vast repertoire of sheer delights, body parts so agile,
Cannot but satisfy the naked soul and the yearning spirit not so fragile.
With the gift of chemistry, each to the other outrageously attractive,
How could we be anything less than interrelationally co-active?

We love bathing in the aura of energies electromagnetic and galvanic,
Wallowing in the glistening sweat of glowing flesh, raw and organic.
Fountain of Youth, the natural source of the bath of spiritual renewal,
Is the pure Holy Water; with the Crown of love each other we bejewel.
Each of us is the plaything of the other and object of our lover’s ardor,
The give and take of lively reciprocation helps us drive even harder.

Not without reason is riding on top named the position superior,
It’s all good, even when he tries to unhorse my hardridden posterior.
Driven to heights of ecstasy, enflammed like a wild runaway stallion,
Vigorously infusing energy in me like charging a magical medallion.
My enamorato, naturally endowed with a marvellous sculpted phallus,
Loves to busy himself drinking sweet liquids from a consecrated chalice.

Through the tantric arts, the act of love can be infinitely embellished,
And by perceptual subtlety with great delight thoroughly relished.
The inner dimension of love--heart, soul and consciousness expander,
Helps us endure more joy, withstanding that heat like the Salamander.
Sweet surrender eventually comes in an eternal instant climactic,
The counterpoint for which our mutual enjoyment is most emphatic.

Lingering for awhile now in silken elegance, luxurious and Grecian,
Massaging each other lightly with a thick rich opalescent secretion.
Flickering flames in the glimmer and gleam of a hundred tapers,
Whispering redolence and rememberance wafted by fragrant vapors.
In sparkling light, a tell-tale glow of satisfaction is so totally apparent,
We each are now revealed to the other, as complete and transparent.

A loving union interdependent, with respect and mutual devotion,
Letting go when each willingly answers the call of spiritual liberation.
Embracing the illumination of the universe that expands so vastly,
Makes precious the security of one who loves so freely and steadfastly.
Souls rise up in the air, higher and higher, together light as a feather,
Discovering new planes to reach and dwell in eternity always together.



I will be what I will be what I will be” is the nature of our destiny;
A living singularity, though the laws of karma treat us indifferently.

When I becomes “we” no one need be amazed,
We have fused by the force, at one another gazed.
How long can you keep it there,
That loving look of a lingering stare?
It marks my soul, my golden warrior, sacramental,
And transforms me into the holy blossom temple.

There is never any need to be desolate or disconsolate,
Magnetism and charisma draw the temporary soul mate.
And while there is no dirth of hot-blooded sporting conquerors,
We must reject these unwelcomed advances of forlorn paramours.
In the sacred arena, some suitors seem emotionally confused or dazed,
Uncomprehending the nature of souls with serpentine bodies upraised.

Coiled silent and slumbering all this live long while,
That springing Cadeusus energy remained in enforced exile.
Now it can awaken, quiver, shiver and begin to advance,
The first glowing nexus it visits is that of the charmed lance.
There it ignites the veritable yearning of that thirsty blade,
Which must be quenched in cool water for homage to be made.

Being constantly true to oneself is the most authentic felicity,
Fidelity even with only splendid solitude keeping me company.
Sharper than a serpent’s tooth, no ambivalence or fickleness;
Come and get it” or work out that proactivism you profess.
For that boon or gift we cannot find great enough recompense,
It is a grace and a blessing that only an ancient divine can dispense.

As our invocation builds, I feel your resolve become even firmer,
And we both surrender to the other and begin to softly murmur.
Chanting in a rhythmic tone and muttering words mystic,
We weave a circle around ourselves, of sacred words cabalistic.
Contained by that sacred cocoon we both utter a solemn oath,
To dedicate the creative results of love’s transcendental outgrowth.

There is no isolation; to this illumination always remain loyal,
Comprehending, pierced and transfixed, watching kundalini uncoil.
Send your whole mind deep into me like into a velvet-lined womb,
For only meeting me there can you truly be my bridegroom.
Sacred acts of love are so much more than sport or seduction,
They require a loosening of foundations for alchemical reduction.

Libido provides the energy for a dynamic psychic propulsive;
Shakes you to your very core, not merely physically convulsive.
That same energy causes sun, moon, and stars to illumine;
Nature’s oceanic lake of nectar is an intuitive source of acumen,
The enchantments of this art are not glamours of the conjurer,
But a purposefully artful act which leaves us spiritually purer.

Having tasted the phenomena of that most sumptuous bed,
For any who are denied it with compassion my heart bled.


In the aftermath of love, paralyzed with delight;
Satisfaction which looks, and sounds, and feels just right.
Intuitively we know when we’re right where we belong,
Because devotion and loving adoration is easy to prolong.
It informs us this dream of love is no mere dalliance,
For such intimacy need tolerate no greater audience.

We can simply let it happen in any time or place,
And create our own radiant flourescent space.
Each finding ourselves within the other’s loving gaze,
Together we plunge headlong into love’s deepest maze.
All you are tightly fits in the luminous glowing matrix,
Eyes defocusing as penetrating souls secretly intermix.

We merge together, not omiting the slightest detail,
Every angle and even points of view firmly dovetail.
Overwhelming energy building like tectonic strain,
Seeks relief in the drops of love that upon me rain.
Round upon round of soporific tones surround,
Resonating deep within the mythical underground.

The brilliant star of our love is the only one in sight,
We maintain our will to fuse completely, all else despite.
The power of a supernova we conjure, raise and wield,
To our mortal sensual preferences we willingly yield.
The instant nature of desirousness and natural rapport,
Leads us toward breathing deeply, gazing even more.

Upon me my lord rides like on a charging chariot,
For miles and miles through the desert, scorching hot.
Then pausing and resting atop some dusky dunes,
God comes to call, with my lover and I communes.
He says silently, “Come within my oasis garden,
Help yourself to its fruits; you need no pardon.”

From our garden’s fruits, expressing juice,
Kneaded and squeezed, its flowing forth truly profuse.
Expressing soul’s poetry sung in the heart unheard,
Now swiftly beating like the wings of a hummingbird.
Driven wild, with desirous pheromones redolent,
Simultaneously textured and smooth and succulent

Exuding a sweet liquid, thick and viscous,
Opening and flowering wide like a hibiscus.
Reflecting light through a transparent glisten,
Suddenly, to both sights and sounds we can listen.
As the royal couple, we mount our celestial throne,
Crystalline and delicate like a dandelion as yet unblown.

Hands-on multisensory exchanges energize,
Bursting from cocoons of sensory delight, we spiritualize.
The emotional challenge is to mutually permute,
And dissolving, merge together in the Absolute.
Hidden within sensory meaning is the secure basis,
For finding and returning to that heavenly oasis.

Drink the liquid grace flowing into that divine lagoon;
To our resonant timbre, cadence and pitch we atune.
rapport-rich, relaxed and relieved,
It’s even much better than we could have believed.
In the aftermath of love, paralyzed with delight;
Satisfaction which looks, and sounds, and feels just right.



We all know love is the basis of an ancient delerium,
Whose ultimate spiritual goal is a conjunctive mysterium.
On the fly, it strikes us like the fabled Serpent Queen,
Smitten by amorous prowess, entranced in a surreal dream.
Revelry reconciles the worlds, ideal and real, opening a labyrinth,
A cool breeze blows in across a waving field of golden amaranth.

The anatomy of lust speaks in full-bodied hieroglyphics,
A psychokinetic act culminating in luminous pyrotechnics.
In love, on the fly, there’s no turning back after the act;
We face love head-on and to its excitation fully react.
Lost in the delerious alliance of revealed innermost selves,
Infused with spirituality of a God who into our souls delves.

We are smugglers in the empire of love, stealing pagan transcendence,
Transmuting animal attraction into its alter, divine interdependence.
Carnal worship finds intimate expression in love’s tender alchemy,
Supplicants caught in the quicksand of love’s enslaving anarchy.
Demented passion, dramas of power, worship, exile, and reunion,
The lightning of rapture, converging in sheer abandon’s confusion.

It can be a fearsome journey toward extravagant obsessions,
Tantalized by the promise of sensory-melding cascades of sensations.
Just as “No poet can prevent his work from being used as magic,”*
No lovers can prevent what is wrought from being joyful or tragic.
Become the forceful wind--divine tornado--the widely open sky...
A cool river churning--the heart of the sun--within your arms I die.

A pearly mist arises and then saturates the earth with dew,
And gently envelops the whole of her being, sprouting anew.
Mutual love, pouring forth affection like a gushing mountain stream,
Rapidly moving through the changing phases of the ample moon.
Love’s lofty vocabulary, an ennobling force, phrases so supple;
On a pilgrimage of our own devising, we were born to couple.

*W. H. Auden

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File Created: 2/2/02    Last Updated: 2/11/02
All poems and collages by Iona Miller, rights reserved