An excerpt from The Gospel of Sophia, The Biographies of the Divine Feminine Trinity, by Tyla Gabriel

 

I know the secret of fire; I have been burned alive

many times to see Her face,

As She falls from heaven to Earth

in a blaze of wondrous sacrifice,

Like Prometheus thrown down to the mountaintop

where an eagle devoured his liver each day anew,

Chained by the gods for his gift of fire

given to humans all too soon.

Fire in caves lit up the pictograms

of soul images painted by midwives,

Whose sacred flame must never die,

passed on through rituals of the woman soul

Or burned as offerings for gods on every altar

to unite sacrifice with the spirit.

Life giving warmth in the cold,

gray light in the darkness;

Life-giving fire found on the sun,

or the deep flames of burning stars,

All call the ancient name of Thee, Holy Mother Fire,

Queen of the luminous realms and destroyer of matter,

The light-bringer, the conflagration of all living things

as they die and fall back into your silent arms.

When the flames die down and turn to ashes

And only cold and dark remain –

Where has this luminous wonder gone? –

She roars consuming and then falls silent as death.

Each votive candle lit in faith

burns as a heart’s desire calling spirit into matter.

Each leaf that falls surrenders into the slow burning

of all matter in its dying embers.

Each life during birth ignites the magically conjoined elements

nurturing its fragile existence.

Each human soul birthed as a helpless spark

needs years of warm enkindling to shine.

Each human becomes their own sun in time, surrounded by

their progeny planets — flames born of love.