| Within your soul rumbles with the quaking of Gaia, Mother Earth, whose
core is molten, whose power and internal heat so intense it must be contained under miles
of rocky crust. The fire of the Earth is in you, the same fire that sears rock into molten
lava, the flames that brew her geysers and hot springs. This fire is within you, roaring
in you. The steel of your resolve is tempered in its flames. You are vermillion, orange,
crimson, blazing as the volcanic sun at the center of the Earth. This is part of your
nature. You, too, are a great, molten furnace of roiling passions, lusts,
desires--contained only by the application of great pressure and at great expense of
energy. And the cracks in the masks you wear are like the great plate boundaries of the
earth, streaming with molten lava, the passion that burns and roars from within you. Your
core, so furiously hot and molten, no one may visit there.
Within you burns the fire immortal, energy eternal and infinite. Others sense the heat
and life-giving energy of your inner blaze and are drawn near, as lostlings in a
fathomless void sail thankfully toward a beacon of light.
Mightier art thou than the white-hot fury that builds mountains or turns the land to
ash. Wield this power in the service of Love and you may accomplish great things, acts of
greatness upon the earth. Wield this power in the service of selfishness and you may turn
the land to acrid dust. |