Pungsnotded

Prayer to Apollo

November 18th, 2007

My Dearest Apollo, Apollon, Appollon,

You were once such a moral outstanding example that you were worshipped on the 7^th day of every month. Let us pour some out then, and recognize your greatness for what it is today. You are known and identified with the Sun, and even lesser known, and represented in central Illinois, surrounded by cornfields.

I never realized this until later in life. We had an extended weekend with an art opening and some beautiful music for 2 long evenings. My most vivid memory is swinging around very fast and missing a pole by not so much, going very fast. That was one happy joyous weekend, and I was one very drunk and obnoxious Betty Ford wife.

On Sunday, there were a few of us left, and we did not want the weekend to stop and we decided to extend the weekend by one more day. We drove out a ways, and saw your image standing there, arms extended. Glorious. We walked around you, squinted, lay on the grass, saw the sun set over and through your 16 foot form. Surrounded by cornfields, this was the most amazing thing to discover; standing, exalting.

That was about 7 years ago, things have changed. Life is such an evolution, by the time you stop to consider these moments, it is history.

Thank you for the Light, all Light. Thank you for the ability to squint and change a landscape, making things closer and further away, dust shining in your beams. Thank you for warmth, for glaring, and turning Winter into a joke.

Thanks for the Music, oh man, the Music, without it, how would we all place these memories, out accomplishments, our declines. For letting us feel it, making us shake, move us, energy for our souls.

Thank you for the gift of Prophecy. Too often we may choose to ignore the signs, the stirrings deep inside, as if we had some sort of control, some sort of choice. The things that we forsee, they are not always the happy things, help us to know what to do with them, something I have yet to learn.

Thank you for the gift of Healing. We all carry pain, all of us. Especially those hardened from years of turmoil. Make us all heal, and rid us of our scar tissue. We have to stop wearing the Hate, like a badge and get over it. We have all been broken in some way, let’s help each other and be the first to make ammends.

Save us from the plagues. People judging, restricting, creating a Frankenstein army of ancient pagan ideals and their greed. We need a solid intuitive oneness to fight this disease of ignorance and pride. Save us from the restrictions, the borders, the censorship, the racists and the wars. Help us Apollo, wake up each morning and chew through the restraints.

Xoxoxoxoxoxo and light, lyres, and love right up to Zeus.

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