My body starves. My mind is chaotic, my heart is weak. My soul is heavy, malnourished.
Eat of that which will nourish your body and your soul, for they are one and the same. They are interconnected and interwoven within each the other. Your soul chose your body as its house in this lifetime. And as such, it creates a temple. Your body becomes a place of worship, a place of honor. It is a place to honor itself as a holy place, and to honor that which is housed within it.
My soul breathes through every pore, and integrates every cell. And so I must eat that which serves the dual purpose of vitalizing my body and my soul.
Light the sacred butter upon the altar. Stare into the flames, and lose yourself in the shadows cast upon the stone walls. Pour the sacred honey upon your brow, the sacred milk upon your breast. Shake the sacred wheat across your loins and dust the flour upon your thighs. Let the calf’s blood trickle in rivulets along your skin, mingling all together. Take the rendered tallow mixed with pigments from the earth, take the henna paste, and mark upon your flesh those symbols of our past, of our lives, of the gods and of ourselves.
Kneel before the altar that is your self. Kneel before the altar that is your lover. Worship there. Bring offerings and give them unto the gods there, unto the soul. Feed and be fed. Drink and share libations. Dance and sing, cry and scream as beasts in heat or in the throes of labor. Nourish and be nourished.
(C) 2013 to Butter on the Altar