The Father spoke the word, and the pale Moon
Sought out the precincts of calm Night’s retreat
To share her watch on Darkness; and Day took wings,
And flew to the broad spaces of the sky—
To roam benignant from the floating mists
Which cling to hillsides of the Dawn—to Eve
Who calls the happy toilers home.

And all
Was changed: for when the terror of bright Day
Had lifted from the unused eyes of men,
Sparks flew from Ládi’s anvil, while Ógun taught
The use of iron, and wise Obálufon1
Made brazen vessels and showed how wine streams out
From the slim palms. And in the night the Gods
Set torches in their thronging courts to light
The dance, and Heaven’s music touched the drum
Once more as in its ancient home. And mirth
With Odudúwa reigned.

Myths of Ífè

Book 2, III

Do, soul, do; abuse and contemn thyself; yet a while and the time for thee to respect thyself, will be at an end. Every man’s happiness depends from himself, but behold thy life is almost at an end, whiles affording thyself no respect, thou dost make thy happiness to consist in the souls, and conceits of other men.

Meditations by Marcus Aurelius

From the center of one’s being the life-giving, ever-bearing tree of the Spirit of God spreads its branches into every department of mind and body.

Charles Fillmore

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January 4, 2017