is must be the dynamic of the next
civilization. The intense, passionate yearning of the soul towards the
soul of a stronger, greater individual, and the passionate
blood-belief in the fulfillment of this yearning will give men the
next motive for life.

We have to sink back into the darkness and the elemental consciousness
of the blood. And from this rise again. But there is no rising until
the bath of darkness and extinction is accomplished.

As social units, as civilized men we have to do what we do as physical
organisms. Every day, the sun sets from the sky, and darkness falls,
and every day, when this happens, the tide of life turns in us.
Instead of flowing upwards and outwards towards mental consciousness
and activity, it turns back, to flow downwards. Downwards towards the
digestion processes, downwards further to the great sexual
conjunctions, downwards to sleep.

This is the soul now retreating, back from the outer life of day, back
to the origins. And so, it stays its hour at the first great sensual
stations, the solar plexus and the lumbar ganglion. But the tide ebbs
on, down to the immense, almost inhuman passionate darkness of sex,
the strange and moon-like intensity of the hypogastric plexus and the
sacral ganglion, then deep, deeper, past the last great station of the
darkest psyche, down to the earth's center. Then we sleep.

And the moon is the tide-turner. The moon is the great cosmic pole
which calls us back, back out of our day-self, back through the
moonlit darknesses of the sensual planes, to sleep. It is the moon
that sways the blood, and sways us back into the extinction of the
blood.--And as the soul retreats back into the sea of its own
darkness, the mind, stage by stage, enjoys the mental consciousness
that belongs to this retreat back into the sensual deeps; and then it
goes extinguished. There is sleep.

And so we resolve back towards our elementals. We dissolve back, out
of the upper consciousness, out of mind and sight and speech, back,
down into the deep and massive, swaying consciousness of the dark,
living blood. At the last hour of sex I am no more than a powerful
wave of mounting blood. Which seeks to surge and join with the
answering sea in the other individual. When the sea of individual
blood which I am at that hour heaves and finds its pure contact with
the sea of individual blood which is the woman at that hour, then each
of us enters into the wholeness of our deeper infin