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Yog Sothoth walks fluidly though city streets, moving against the constant stream of business dealings…artfully finding his path through the bustling bodies of the post modern Metropolis.
He feels each being as it passes, hidden or forgotten…he knows their cycles and habits.

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Most people are blind to his beauty, although some sense strangeness, the otherness is sometimes perceived with a fleeting thought or body sensation.

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To the few, he is recognizable, even before the mind has a chance to remember.

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He is the wind and light, controlled power with the strength of mountains and streams.
The giver, he pushes in; feeling all, remembering all, being all, encompassing all…phenomenal and non phenomenal alike.

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He has found the balance it takes to be in all space and all time, venturing in and out of the human realms at will.

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Taking on his preferred forms: bubbles, oaks, particles, gas, and fauns... he journeys.

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I call out his name…my god, my king, my magician.
Directly in my eye he looks, the love and wisdom of a thousand eternities, moving both forward and backward, up and down; all dimensions are linked within his eyes and flow through his earthly veins.

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Immortal and mortal.
Blood moves with the loud whispers of chanting and beating of hands on flesh.

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All pulses…not just with life, but with death, with time and space, beyond anything a machine can comprehend with our gray minds and categorizing intellect.

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Everything pulses, everything is constantly shifting within the space he inhabits. This beating creates the vibrations that radiate out of him, speaking for him when words make no sense.

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His tentacles penetrate deeply, sexually, visually, audibly.

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With his sounds, he invokes the ancient ways, thus allowing beings to shed themselves, fully to his ways.

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He moves with purpose, each movement a calculated ritual of interaction. Speaking to all: living, dead and in between. Rough and smooth, loving and demanding, encompassing all dualities, holding them with tenderness and authority.

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An eternity of shifting and changing has created the ultimate flexibility in muscles, bones, dimensions, and space. All flows in and out, like the ocean waves set both to fast forward and rewind, moving in both directions at the same time.

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Yog Sothoth does not promise peace. Comfort and contentment are not within his realm. He encompasses the greatness and forceful oneness of times past and future, the sacred spaces in between ALL.

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He holds all that is ancient, all that has existed, all that will ever exist.
Stirring inside with the energy of solar systems and galaxies beyond mortal comprehension.

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This is not peace. It is an all encompassing treasure that lives in electricity and true emotions. It lives in struggle and anticipation, it lives in Work and opening.

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After innumerable experiments and eons, he has found a way to penetrate and voyage through all universes. He holds this information dear, revealing his secrets to the few who devote themselves with sacrifice and blood...
Working always to understand with their beings the nature of time and the elements.

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He demands servitude. And he guards well, with the invisible spears and daggers at his ready, with the iron clad gates and poison tipped leaves.

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He holds his knowledge back, waiting for the seekers to show themselves.
Waiting for them to ask, to beg to bleed.

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He is visible in the places of this earth, gliding through these earthly spaces like water. Moving undisturbed through human artifice, moving between the spaces like smoke.

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And we throw ourselves to him, not because he offers us peace, but because he straddles all realities, because he knows the gate.

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To venture beyond is not for individual peace, but to Work for All.

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And when he puts himself inside, he pushes with the force of all; all time, all past and present, all future. He holds me up to the edge, shows me the death below. He holds me there, alive and moving with all matter, holding all the matter and energy between us.

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Some nights he pushes me over the steep edge, only to watch me flail and soar. He gathers me with kisses, then blesses me with another beating.
My god, my king.
He holds all, he knows all.
He gives all.

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