the hierophant

H I E R O P H A N T 

"I would like a story," says the salamander to the Hierophant.
"And what would you like to hear, little one?" The words come slowly. Each syllable seems to be drawn from deep within, pulled up from an individual rootlet. The salamander is used to it, and patient.
"I want to hear how I may fly. I was content. And then one day friend Caterpillar said he was sleepy. He slept for a long time until I nearly forgot him. Until...yesterday a moth came to laugh at me. He laughed with Caterpillar's laugh, and with Caterpillar's voice he said he had had a dream of wings."
"Ah." The sonorous exhalation seems to go on forever. "Ah, little one; I am sorry. Caterpillar has that blessing. He may sleep and dream of flight. He weaves a silken ritual around his body, and then comes the day when that vision transforms him. You..."
"I wish to dream of flight too!" says Salamander very seriously.
"You may dream of it," says his friend and teacher, "I will not be the one to deny you divinity. But just know that your own divinity shall be attained along a different path than Caterpillar's. Do not relinquish your dream, Salamander."

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Meaning: The Hierophant's roots are deep reaching, entwined around secrets and traditions and the ages. Ritual and cermony, pursuing knowledge and deeper meaning, the rigidity of a belief system.










You know what's fun about convention? Occasionally telling it to bend over while handing it a bottle of lube. Sometimes rules are meant to be broken. Sometimes to get the things we want, we have to break tradition. Occasionally mystics must be demystified, and the light can only be seen by turning tradition on its head.



Wtf am I going to do with an English degree? It's not like it'll pay for itself...