Magical tales of Egypt

annashummingbirdph1I understood that this man, whose name was something like ‘Heoman’, had been telling the girl magical tales of Egypt, and of the powers Egyptians possessed. I was wondering how she had come to know him, when, suddenly, the answer came.

I saw an episode from her past, when she had done something quite magical. Heoman had been there and witnessed it. It happened at a holiday gathering when she was about seven years old. A celebration was in progress. The girl’s family and guests were feasting on the grounds. Garlands of boughs and flowers adorned the tables and trellises. A lamb was roasting on a spit, the smoke rising in wisps.

The girl wandered into a nearby grove and sat beneath a large olive tree, telling herself a long, fanciful story about a maiden possessed of magical abilities. Acting as though she were that maiden, she tilted her face upward and gazed into the sky, crying earnestly, “O, gentle Wind, bring my little bird to me.” She threw her arms wide open – and just then a small bird settled on her wrist.

Heoman stood nearby, and had been watching and listening in amusement. But when he saw the bird alight upon her wrist, he realised that she had a gift. Later that day he spoke with her privately, wanting to hear her ideas about the world, and found that she possessed unusual wisdom for her age. That was how they became friends. I saw then that this little girl was Mary, later to be known as Mary Magdalene.

Estelle Isaacson, Through the Eyes of Mary Magdalene

Let time reveal its vision

‘Hermes lifts a shield that’s priceless –
Bids it cast a charmed reflection –
Thus does spy the Lord, Osiris,
Youth itself, complete perfection.

‘He that rescued Dionysus
From the flames which killed Semele,
He the Gods, as one, depend on,
Spoke he, thus, to shape the darkness:

‘“King and priest of Egypt, ruler
Of the world, who’s robed in dulia,
Might I beg thee now to listen;
Lord, let time reveal its vision?

‘“See yourself – the face that’s handsome –
Lit by all the stars of heaven?
Take thee now, the horn of plenty,
That which you requested lately.

Hypnotising as the waters
From the clear and crystal palace
Of the Fairy queen and mermaids,
Is the looking glass. The Star gazed.

‘“Drink, my Lord, relive a journey
Govern dreams, see truth in Karma.
Know thee well that life eternal
Is the law and that is Dharma.”

The Code’s Appliance

‘‘That’s the good news – more may follow –
But for now, this pill you’ll swallow:
Floods are overdue, I’m thinking;
All of Egypt’s hardly drinking.

‘‘Let there be a great disaster,
Something of a future mystery,
Just to show I’m Lord and Master,
Godly King of timeless history.

‘‘Thinks me now, it’s time to end the
Wider ocean realm. Atlantic
Trading ceases now and Cretans –
I have deemed – are sacrificial.

‘All the learned priests, however,
Those who keep the sacred science,
They’ll escape, I think, to Egypt,
Therein teach the code’s appliance.

‘‘See, vain Greeks, the Mother Isis,
She who yields the greatest brightness,
Guarded now by this, the dog-star;
Point on which to ponder, Priestess.

‘‘Look into the West, fair brothers,
See the setting sun of Horus,
Eye of Falcon prince – the symbol
Once of Ra – who’s ever-watchful.

‘‘Lo, behold, the East, fair sisters,
See the golden calf of Horus,
Which, by noon, shall wax enormous,
Such a bull to beat all others.

‘‘That, you’ll find – beloved Hermes,
He who dared through time to journey –
Should be just enough to conquer
Taurus and those other monsters.’

Face of Darkness

From her garden filled with flowers
Aphrodite screams in terror.
Then, the Goddess, caught off balance,
Falls into the field of Ares!

‘Thus, the God of War is fuming.
Anger grows inside him. booming,
So much so that grave Athena
Has to watch him blow up Thera!

‘As the scenes of devastation
Reach the eye of Lord Osiris
Thinks he: ‘I shall end a nation,
Then uphold another’s rising.

‘‘Cultured isle, the great Minoa –
Massive once but soon a shadow –
Shall become as mist to Egypt,
Nothing more than dust by morrow.’

‘All Olympus stands in silence,
Knowing that the day is over,
Watching as the face of darkness
Brings a wave from Cretan waters.

Endless Story Timeless

‘When his memory serves him rightly,
Thoth the ancient speaks: “Osiris!
Fare thee well? The bits and pieces
Are as one; she loves thee, Isis.

How might I now be of service?”
Asks the one with dispensation.
“I could write it as I heard it,
So to speak, unite the nations?”

‘Lord Osiris, King of Egypt,
Smiles at this and kisses Isis.
‘See, my love, he’ll keep the remit,
Make our endless story timeless!’

‘‘Thoth, now, phrase the hidden secrets –
Thoth the priest, the Master builder –
Write the way.’ The sun-mind keeper,
Brings to light what Earth held deeper.

‘‘One as three, my eye is opened;
One in mind. The light of living
Looks more lovely now, than ever.
Solomon is wise and giving.

‘‘As we break the day with sun shine,
Let the past be past, Apollo.
Warm the seed of this: The grapevine;
Let the bread of life be swallowed.

The Hymn of the Pearl

Black Pearl by Mbz1

When I was an infant too young to talk, in my father’s palace, Reposing in the wealth and luxury of those who nourished me, My parents equipped me with supplies and sent me out from the East, our country, on a mission.

From the wealth of their treasuries they gave me a great cargo, Which was light, so that I could carry it by myself – The cargo was gold frmo the high country, silver plate of the great treasuries, Emerald jewels of India, and agates of Kosan; and they armed me with steel.

They took away from me the jewel-studded garment shot with gold, That they had made out of love for me, And the robe of yellow colour (tailored) to my size. But they made an agreement with me, Impressed it on my mind, (so that) I might (not) forget it, and said:

“If you go down to Egypt and bring from there the one pearl, Which resides there near the ravenous dragon, You shall put (back)  on that jewel-studded garment and teh robe, which you like; And you shall be a herald for our kingdom, along with your well-remembered Brother.

So I started out from the East, on a hard and frightening road, accompanied by two guides; For I was unused to traveling on it. I passed the borders of the Mosani, where there is the inn of the Eastern traveling merchants; And reached the land of Babylon.

The Hymn of the Pearl

Gift from the Pharoah

As Nafrini arranges my hair I sit with a cold, damp hand pressed over my eyes. I wonder if I will have the strength to make myself heard when the time comes.

She sets down the comb and places her soft hands upon my neck, gazing down at me with lowered lashes and appearing as an Oread nymph in the priceless Egyptian glass. Both she and the glass were a gift from the Pharaoh  and are said to carry within them a charm of Qetesh, Egypt’s goddess of love and beauty.

She sees my anxiety and I close my eyes with relief as she gently soothes the pains from my head and shoulders. Her touch is lighter than the wings of a dove.

After a short time the pressure in my brow decerases and Nafrini bids me, in her heavily accented Greek, to ‘look into the glass again’, as she sets alight a tightly wrapped bundle of herbs and leaves from a flaming lantern which hangs beside the doorway.

The acrid scent of the smoke is not quite pleasant at first, but it is not long before I start to become hypnotised by my own reflection in the shimmering glass. Nafrini has been singing for quite some time in a low but musical voice.

The words she utters are in her native tongue – a language I know a little of – and the stream of mysterious audio symbols mingles irresistibly with the smoke, until I feel the very air about me has become a vivifying incantation.

A nightingale, herald of spring with a voice of longing, bursts into song and I feel myself grow suddenly drowsy, my eyelids flickering like the wings of a butterfly as it gathers pollen from swollen summer blooms.

Before I have the chance to drift off into sleep, the sensation of cool metal being pressed into my brow rouses my attention. I open my eyes onto the mirror and focus on the golden diadem Nafrini has placed around my temple on the piled up coils of braided hair.

I am captivated by the glittering of gold in the warm glass and when she hands the sprig of daphne to me I chew it unthinkingly, unable to tear my gaze from my own reflection. Time slows to a standstill; I see that it is changing.

The Risen

“What, pray tell, of Baha-ullah!”
Spoke at once the latest wise-one.
“He’s accepted all the others
Gone before; the way is union?”

“This, you see”, revealed the Rabbi,
“Charts a line which roughly follows
Down through time, a line of prophets,
Give or take a right-tongued Sophist.

“Eastern influences flourished
In our land, but naught surpasses
Now – or ever – true Kabbalah,
Gnostic scripts were ne’er so magic!

“Not so!” claimed the Vedic master.
“Ours, the early bird of progress
`May pass through the stages faster,
Incarnating ever after.

“Vishnu, here, the force outstanding,
Krishna, there, the force transcending,
Both appear within our scripture,
Bhagvad-Gita; song unending.”

“What of us,” cried out the pagans,
“Surely we’re the lords of mystery?
Since the early days of Egypt,
We’ve survived the Western history!”

“Those who claim that resurrection
Is the sole preserve of prophets,
Born beyond the ancient’s time line,
Listen well, and don’t forget it:

“Old Osiris: dead then risen;
Great Demeter’s daughter: risen;
Dionysus next was risen,
Then the Orphic bard was risen!”

Charms: Emerald

Spinx at sunset
Emerald Tablet

Looking through the space for Hermes –

Author of a timeless vision –

King Osiris clicks his fingers,

Summons then a great revision.

‘‘Thoth the Ancient – Time Atomic –

Step beyond the cloak of Hades.

You have made a greater promise;

Once, upon a time, you made it.

Show me now the emerald shining

Deep within your mind, the word press.

Show my wife the sacred Ibis,

Let us all forgive. Today’s blessed.”

Hermes gives himself a second

And a third, so time is taken –

Rather than make haste, unreckoned –

Pauses while the epochs waken.

When his memory serves him rightly,

Thoth the ancient speaks: “Osiris!

Fare thee well? The bits and pieces

Are as one; she loves thee, Isis.

How might I now be of service?”

Asks the one with dispensation.

“Should I write it as I heard it,

So to speak, unite the nations?”

King Osiris, King of Egypt,

Smiles at this and kisses Isis.

“See, my love, he’ll keep the remit,

Make our endless story timeless!’

Thoth, now, phrase the hidden secrets –

Thoth the priest, the Master builder –

Write the way.”  The sun-mind keeper,

Brings to light what Earth held deeper.