The Arctic Lover
Gone is the long, long winter night;
Look, my beloved one!
How glorious, through his depths of light,
Rolls the majestic sun!
The willows, waked from winter’s death,
Give out a fragrance like thy breath–
The summer is begun!
Ay, ’tis the long bright summer day:
Hark, to that mighty crash!
The loosened ice-ridge breaks away–
The smitten waters flash.
Seaward the glittering mountain rides,
While, down its green translucent sides,
The foamy torrents dash.
See, love, my boat is moored for thee,
By ocean’s weedy floor–
The petrel does not skim the sea
More swiftly than my oar.
We’ll go, where, on the rocky isles,
Her eggs the screaming sea-fowl piles
Beside the pebbly shore.
Or, bide thou where the poppy blows,
With wind-flowers frail and fair,
While I, upon his isle of snows,
Seek and defy the bear.
Fierce though he be, and huge of frame,
This arm his savage strength shall tame,
And drag him from his lair.
When crimson sky and flamy cloud
Bespeak the summer o’er,
And the dead valleys wear a shroud
Of snows that melt no more,
I’ll build of ice thy winter home,
With glistening walls and glassy dome,
And spread with skins the floor.
The white fox by thy couch shall play;
And, from the frozen skies,
The meteors of a mimic day
Shall flash upon thine eyes.
And I–for such thy vow–meanwhile
Shall hear thy voice and see thy smile,
Till that long midnight flies.
—William Cullen Bryant
I should confess my quiet lurking about your forum has already led me to a preoccupation with Beny’s wisdom. I have already started a compilation tentatively called The Awesomely Divine Aneurysm Blowing Wisdom of BENignjamin.
Though I once didn’t think I liked the group of souls I was traveling with, things have become much nicer since I’ve opened my eyes a bit wider and caught a glimpse at some of the others riding on the same bus.
Psychopomp “guide of souls”
Are creatures, spirits, angels, or deities whose responsibility is to escort newly deceased souls to the afterlife. Their role is not to judge the deceased, but simply provide safe passage.
The psychopomp is a mediator between the unconscious and conscious realms.
A psychopomp is a guide, whose primary function is to escort souls to the afterlife, but they can also serve as guides through the various transitions of life.
Throughout much of human history, such archetypal escorts have been of great comfort to the dying. They confirm that there is some form of existence after the death of the body, and that a compassionate being will be waiting to offer their assistance through the transition.
A wide variety of angels, animals, birds, and other helpful beings have also been known to act as guides to the afterlife. And it is not uncommon to hear of former ancestors and friends who come to greet the deceased at the time of death. Such guidance generally guarantees a successful transition for the soul, but there are other times when additional aid is needed. This has long been a role of the shaman and others with the ability to travel to the spirit realms and offer help to those in need.
People say that what we’re all seeking is a meaning for life. I don’t think that’s what we’re really seeking. I think that what we’re seeking is an experience of being alive, so that our life experiences on the purely physical plane will have resonances throughout our own innermost being and reality, so that we actually feel the rapture of being alive.
I’ve known for a long time, in this life, that I have lived before. At birth we forget most of what we were before. Over my life, bits and pieces have come back to me. And the experiences of others with similar experiences have only to add to the belief. Through meditation and vision quests, my spirit guides have helped me to understand. My Cherokee great grandmother seems to be so involved in all this, although I never physically meet her. Our souls are intertwined.