Too much is said about the man,
Too little said about his mate;
He bears the rainbow coloured fan,
But creation is the woman's fate.
Each woman is a shining star;
A Scarlet Woman in her heart.
She is Our Lady's avatar
And plays a most important part.
For though the Priest (that Beast's) our Sun,
To him we are Diana's Moon.
Without him life is not begun,
But woman has the Magick Rune
That gives to life the form it needs
To praise Our Lady & Our Lord;
And the power from which life feeds
Comes from the woman girt with a
sword.
The woman is the House of God--
The Mouth that syphons off his Force.
'Tis he that has the Magick Rod,
But she's the Cup-like Form and Source.
She is the Empress with the Door
That leads unto the Highest.
She is the Mother and the Whore--
So why man dost thou sighest?
We live to serve you (but not as servants)
Divided from you for love's sake.
'Tis time to show that you are savants--
That your peacock tail is not a fake.
We women are willing to be All-Woman,
The Highest of every man's Ideal;
But man must be willing to be All-Man
With a body that's strong and a heart to
feel.
("Every man and every woman is a star." AL. I.3.)