Pros Theon: Pro-log fragment

There has been made possible an initiation but neither how nor why is revealed fully in one place at any one time. It occurs in a dimension beyond space and time.

The text is being produced now because it is the appointed time and enough of the necessary lessons – including encryption of sacred messages that they might be safely disseminated – have been learned throughout the last aeon.

The code was given in accordance with the law and it is to be hoped that the overall text has not been literally compromised by the parameters of this pre-determined creative impulse. The purpose behind this writing was not for the sake of art entirely. The nature of the commission was the determining factor of its overall style.

Contributors to this work have for the most part remained anonymous while others have made themselves known. It is possible to divine their names within the text. The principles invoked and included shall make their impression regardless of the degree to which they have been recognized.

That which is meant to be known was and is and shall be known and that which is truly a mystery shall forever be concealed in space and time;

Heed Euterpe.

Delphi

Now, since the god inspires me,
I follow where he leads, to open Delphi,
The very heavens, bring you revelation
Of mysteries, great matters never traced
By any mind before, and matters lost
Or hidden and forgotten, these I sing.
There is no greater wonder than to range
The starry heights, to leave the earth’s dull regions,
To ride the clouds, to stand on Atlas’ shoulders,
And see, far off, far down, the little figures
Wandering here and there, devoid of reason,
Anxious, in fear of death, and so advise them,
And so make fate an open book.

Ovid, Metamorphoses, Book 15, on The Teachings of Pythagoras

The Nightingale

It is on the seventh day of each month that the future lives of men are unveiled, when they come from all parts of the Earth to know what the fates have in store for them. This is except for during the winter months, when twice-born Dionysus returns and natural chaos reigns in place of Apollo’s measured reason.

When frost is on the ground and the sheaves of wheat have frozen back into the Earth – when the great, bright star of Maia appears on the horizon – then it is that the maenads of Dionysus herald the arrival of their lord.

The body of Dionysus is buried at this place and during his season they devote their dedications to the following year’s harvest, whilst praying that the sun God will return and the golden youth be resurrected.

She walks towards the entrance of the great hall.

It is elaborately decorated with all manner of votives – burnished shields, statues, cauldrons, tripods and bows – from all four corners of the Earth. Counted amongst them are the ensigns and symbols of every noble house that is known to this world.

A thousand garlands of laurel create fragrant canopies beneath the ceiling and pay host to the songbirds that sing Apollo’s praises. The sweetest voice that can be heard belongs to the nightingale, which reveals to those who listen the innermost longing of the psyche.

A pure, shrill note breaks the silence and escapes into Echo’s lonely realm as twilight descends.

Elysium Fields

When he first looked upon the world and wondered how best it should be ordered, Zeus released the Eagles of East and West, bidding each to fly around the Earth in his own direction.

The birds were reunited at this place and Zeus set down a sacred white stone, to mark it forever as the centre of the planet. The first shrine was created around this stone and from that moment onward, Zeus’s son Apollo, keeper of the sun, began relaying the will of his father to those who came here.

She stands within the fourth Apollonian Temple to have been built here, which has undergone extensive and ongoing repair works following the War that almost destroyed it.

The first Temple was much smaller than the present building and constructed from branches of Thessaly’s sacred laurel trees, while the next was created by bees of wax and feathers, designed to bridge the gap between Earth and the underworld.

Bees make the journey to and from Hades as a matter of course and the secrets they retrieve therein are for the golden ears of Apollo and his twin sister Artemis, the virgin huntress, keeper of the moon.

The third temple was a great bronze edifice, which stood for many years before the heat of the Sun God melted it back into the Earth. The fourth was built before she took up her office and the fifth shall be put on its foundations when she has left for the Elysium Fields.

Future inscribed on lead

She stands in the centre of a great hall with her head held high and her long, bright hair braided into an elaborate arrangement that is held in place by a gleaming circlet. Her white linen robe is bound with pure gold and she is still as a statue, both eyes fixed upon the world.

There is no wind beneath the temple roof and the air is warm, within and without. The only sound that can be heard is an occasional bleating of goats and the distant murmuring of servants as they make ready for the Spring Council, which is to be held at this place in three days time.

She has swept clean the marble floor and it shines like the full moon in April. Mid-morning sunrays flood the hallowed space, infusing every atom. Narrow gaps between the thick, rounded pillars reveal sections of a motionless scene, silent as if time had ceased.

Happy are the men who enter this house and ask of her, “What do you see?” The wisest make the best of the answer they are given, but more enlist the counsel of priests to assist with their understanding.

Others seek more, but seldom to any avail, for there is a certain way we do things at this place, here at the navel of the world, where the future is inscribed on lead.

Universal Time Piece

With the roll steady I faced the window, through which both the moon and Venus could be seen shining on that particular night, in conjunction. I clearly remember seeing them and can picture them now, because they were spectacularly close together. Standing between them I stood stock still.

Apart from my right arm, that is, which was busy from the elbow out, apparently winding something up that was seriously heavy. Perhaps the actual universal time piece. The movement had been clockwise.

I had always assumed that the world turned in 3 ways simultaneously, so in an attempt to get the third way right I turned in the opposite direction and started to make a slow elliptical movement with my hips, in a position facing the guitar case belonging to my boyfriend, that was propped against the wall.

For some reason this provoked an undeniable sense of danger which I tried in vain to place.

After a few seconds I was disturbed to realize that I had been unconsciously yet meditatively staring into the small silver clasps at the bottom of the case. These threw off a distinct enough reflection of myself to warrant a hasty turnaround.

At this point I struck the first of two strong convictions that I happened upon that night; namely: that I must at all costs avoid the sight of my own reflection whilst in that particular (alternative) state of consciousness. The second was about not being trapped in time.

After a few more disturbed gyrations, my actions somehow arrested by having thought too hard, I fell light-heartedly onto the bed and closed my eyes, feeling wonderfully satisfied with my spinning achievement.

The hour flies

“Deo Gratis!” the woman said with feeling.

The other voice – the one that seemed to be in Lucas’ head – came forth once again with perfect timing, the words forming organically like blooming flowers in his brain. As the words emerged the white light was transformed into a shimmering aura of translucent colour; pink, gold, violet and azure.

“ADSUN VIA AURORA AUSTRALIS ET AURORA BOREALIS.”

Her response was free of doubt: “You are lovelier than life itself. May you last forever.”

“FUGIT HORA”

The hour flies.

This time the unearthly voice was accompanied by the crystal clear sounds of a thousand bells ringing in harmony inside Lucas’ head.

“Esto perpetue”, the woman murmured softly, taking the words right out of his mouth.

All of the ordinary words were taken out of Lucas’ mouth. Without realising it, he had begun to make a strangely meaningful humming sound of his own, in an entirely spontaneous – yet somehow appropriate – response to the bizarre situation in which he’d found himself.

As the girl and the omnipotent light-sound-force conducted their intensely cryptic dialogue without interruption, from outside the window of number eleven an extremely supportive and repetitive Ooo-hhh-mmm-mmmm….Oooo-hhh-mmm-mmm…Ooo-hhh-mmm-mmm Shanti was provided by this exceedingly handy man.

Lucas would remain outside this window for just over two hours, chanting the Ohm without tiring, while the woman of his dreams conducted a conversation with a voice that appeared in his head – from God knows where – and spoke in foreign languages.

For the first in his life he understood several dead languages and one that was dying, although precisely what was said he could never quite recall, try though he would to piece the night’s events together.

As the parish church clock struck twelve, the spell appeared finally to lift. The light disappeared from whence it came and the woman inside the room got up silently and left the room, closing the door behind her as she went.

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Time Pieces

One still

Has two to go.

The birds do

Speak of it,

They say:

“Parlez Vous

Twit, Twoo?”

I say: “Oui,

Quelle heure e’til?”

“C’est trois”,

They say.

“Tres bon”,

Say I.