Redefines the world’s whole history

‘As he has this reawakening
Lord Apollo calls Prince Hermes,
Guardian over endless journeys,
He who made the turtle-lyre sing.

‘Whispers he to Hermes: “Good friend,
“Tell Orion wisdom stories.
Sow in him some inner vision,
Else, I fear, he could get boring.”

‘Smoother than a bust of marble
Is the Prince’s arching eyebrow.
He, the son of Maia, whispers,
“Dear Apollo, you must stop now.

‘“Sun-God, where’s your measured reason,
Has it burned your brains to ashes?
This is sport outside the season.
See his eye; the lightening flashes.

‘“Give him peace or fear tomorrow.”
Warns wise Hermes, eyes ablazing,
“You shall bring the Greeks such sorrow,
Should Osiris’ ire be wakened.

‘“I must pit my wits against him,
Lest the one that’s everlasting
Redefines the world’s whole history,
Buries all our memories deeply.”

Glimmer of Dewdrops

And on the first day of the week when the sounds of the temple bells sought their ears, one spoke and said: “Master, we hear much talk of God hereabout. What say you of God, and who is He in very truth?”

And he stood before them like a young tree, fearless of wind or tempest, and he answered saying: “Think now, my comrades and beloved, of a heart that contains all your hearts, a love that encompasses all your loves, a spirit that envelops all your spirits, a voice enfolding all your voices, and a silence deeper than all your silences, and timeless.

“Seek now to perceive in your self-fullness a beauty more enchanting than all things beautiful, a song more vast than the song of the sea and the forest, a majesty seated upon a throne for which Orion is but a footstool, holding a sceptre in which the Pleiades are naught save the glimmer of dewdrops.

“You have sought alawys only food and shelter, a garment and a staff; seek now One who is neither an aim for your arrows nor a stony cave to shield you from the elements.

“And if my words are a rock and a riddle, then seek, none the less, that your hearts may be broken, and that your questionings may bring you unto the love and the wisdom of the Most High, whom men call God.”

And they were silent, every one, and they were perplexed in their heart.

Kahlil Gibran, The Garden of the Prophet

Esoteric Wisdom of Altai

Between 1923 and 1928 Nicholas Roerich went on a series of travels throughout central Asia, accompanied by his son George. In 1926 – the same year that the Nazis sent their first expedition to Tibet – Roerich was also in that country. He spoke with many Lamas and other Tibetan occultists and mystics. They spoke of the imminent arrival of the Maitreya, the Buddhist Messiah, and imparted to Roerich the spiritual meaning of Altai.

It seems that, among other things, the chief mountain of the Altai range was regarded as the dwelling place of the gods. The Bear and Orion were singled out as being constellations associated with the esoteric wisdom of Altai. The seven stars were seen as the seven Wise Ones, and were also associated with the Mongol legend of Gesar, the Mongol Maitreya, despite his being a warrior rather than a sage. And Gesar was always linked in legend with the Tibetan stories of Shambhala.

Beluka, the principal mountain in the Altai range, has also been put forward as the possible origin of the legend of Mount Meru, abode of the gods. And from Tibet, from the Altai range, civilisation gradually began to spread outwards.

Both black and white magic are possible; one can always choose whether to follow the left or the right hand path. But magic in itself is morally neutral. Tibet held within itself both black and white magicians, and it was, of course, those initiates dedicated to the dark powers of evil who helped Hitler and the Nazis. But other powers existed in Tibet as well, and Roerich, among others, made contact with them.

Roerich himself said, in his book The Heart of Asia, that Shambhala was the fountain and crown of all true wisdom. ‘If you wish to understand Asia and to approach her as a welcome guest’, he wrote, ‘you must meet your host with the most sacred word – Shambhala.’ Roerich and his expedition were based in the Himalayas and had extensive contacts with wise men in Tibet. Roerich became a vehicle of transmission of a Mahatma Morya, who taught a system of Agni Yoga, based on the Kundalini power. Roerich states that a Lama passed through an underground passage in order to reach a sacred place. And the borders of the ‘hidden land’ were marked out carefully with occult symbols.

Michael Fitzgerald, Hitler’s Occult War

Will of Zeus

A cruel folk you are, unmatched for jealousy, you gods who cannot bear to let a goddess sleep with a man, even if it is done without concealment and she has chosen him as her lawful consort. You were the same when Rose-fingered Dawn fell in love with Orion. Easy livers yourselves, you were outraged at her conduct, and in the end chaste Artemis rose from her golden throne, attacked him in Ortygia with her gentle darts and left him dead.

And so again, when the lovely Demeter gave way to her passion and lay in the arms of her beloved Iasion in the thrice-ploughed fallow field, Zeus heard of it quickly enough and struck him dead with his blinding thunderbolt. And now it is my turn to incur that same divine displeasure for living with a mortal man – a man whom I rescued from death as he was drifting alone astride the keel of his ship, when Zeus had shattered it with his lightening bolt out on the wine dark sea, and all his men were lost, but he was driven to this island by wind and waves.

I welcomed him with open arms; I tended him; I even hoped to give him immortality and ageless youth. But now, goodbye to him, since no god can evade or thwart the will of Zeus. If Zeus insists that he should leave, let him be gone across the barren water. But he must not expect me to transport him. I have no ship, no oars, no crew to carry him so far across the seas. Yet I do promise with a good grace and unreservedly to give him such directions as will bring him safe and sound to Ithaca.

Homer, The Odyssey

The Black Rite

Then the goddess steps up on it –
Disc of night, the lamp of dreamers –
As the steeds with hooves of onyx
Take to flight with sweet Selene.

‘Draws she near to bold Orion
Hoping, thus, to soothe his temper.
Points to one, the oldest Satyr,
He the muses loved to ride on.

‘“Bold Orion, please concede
That Crotus, here, who lived and breathed,
Stands there now with arrows poised
To guard your captivated form.

‘“See, as well, the scales of justice,
Those with which the Lord Anubis
Weighed the mass of souls departed,
Measured who should meet Osiris.

“Know thee not the queen of starlight
Calls to time: ‘Stand still, be halted’?
So shall she perform the black rite;
Bring to life the king through deep night?

‘Now Apollo speaks: “Your wisdom
Shines upon a hidden meaning;
You have placed him here with reason
On the font of deeper dreaming!

‘“Might he not recall the last life
When the stars by which you’ve bound him,
Shone upon Egyptian Pharaohs,
Helped them walk the sacred night, free?

‘Then discern the gods, goddesses
That the one so named, ‘Orion,’
Calls to mind his ancient history,
Sees the wheels of time that move on.

‘‘Here’s the truth.’ He thinks in silence:
‘Now I comprehend my story.
Memories of the tears of Isis
Come and thus reveal my glory.

Hypnosis

I think of that moment as I prepare myself for the sacred realm of dreaming, but it is a troubled brow that I lay upon the soft fleece and hypnosis does not come easily.

I have vivid memories of the autumn Tristeria – almost two years past – which left me with a sense of dissatisfaction that I cannot place. I wonder if my love for Dionysus has grown too strong. The allure of the youth has power to move me beyond my present confines and I am drawn to follow him in a way that would be irresistible were it not for my oaths to Apollo.

Whether I might share in Dionysus’ gift of eternal life without sacrificing my first allegiance to the Sun-King is a matter that occupies my mind greatly, most often when darkness falls. I cannot safely confide these thoughts to anyone, for if I do not remain true to Apollo and above the temptations of passion, then none will have faith and his rule shall end.

It is my dreams that sustain me. On nights such as this – warm and heady with the thick scent of Datura – my longing for adventure brings the dolphin to Psyche’s realm; I join him as he shoots like an arrow through the deep, swelling sea.

I am of course able to direct the course of my dreams. It is a skill that is cultivated in whomsoever holds this office, and it is upon this that the world’s most powerful men place extraordinary value.

I spread my heavy hair about the fleecy headrest and – with my hands still entwined in the golden threads – I gaze at the glittering constellation engraved above me. It is of the sun-seeker Orion, beloved of the Moon-Queen Artemis. Her love holds him there in perpetuity.

Tonight I shall dream of the huntress in the sky, who raised her bow at Apollo’s behest and claimed the life of her lover unawares. In this way i will learn from her the art of subjugating the crackling fires of desire, by which I shall make the love of my own life immortal.

Heaven’s Portal

‘

Then the son of old Poseidon –
He who roused Apollo’s hatred –
Shouts: “Assassin! Jealous brother,
Long it is for this you’ve waited.

‘”Sun-God, you designed my downfall
Cruelly, so the breath of sorrow
Falls anew on Winter evenings,
Feeds the dew each misty morrow.

‘“As the nymphs sang paeans, God,
You chose to then divulge my ‘fortune’,
Chose to fool your trusting sister,
Felled the seed of mighty Neptune.

‘”Jealous God, you made her shoot me
while I braved the deep, the blue sea,
Just because my foot was fleeter
And my love, God, that much sweeter!

‘”All shall know the truth of this:
Your virgin loves, my Lord, my kiss,
Your virgin loves, my Lord, my touch;
My Lord – she loves it – oh so much!”

‘“All on Earth shall know the real truth,
She has made me quite immortal.
Greatly shall this come to haunt you
Now I stand at Heaven’s portal.”

Arrow of Artemis

Vernal sun – the fiery Aries’
Golden fleece – lights Pallas, mighty,
Guardian over Argive heroes;
Asteroid of winged Niké.

This the key to hidden gateways –
Look beyond to see the secret –
Clio fixed for all the greats’ days.
Thalia the Muse, the Grace says:

‘Artemis, with bow and quiver,
Stands aloft on Mount Olympus,
As the doe and hind, in silence,
Jump the clear and Star-lit river.

‘Swift they run, like magic carpets,
Through the green and silver forests,
Past the bears and bees with honey
As the Goddess hits her target.

‘“Bravo, Sister!” beams Apollo –
Gazing at the sea below them –
“Never did you miss with arrow!”
Sinks the form of bold Orion”.

‘Lord Apollo watches, silent,
As the virgin’s beau drifts skyward.
Watches as the only question
O’er her virtue learns his lesson.

‘By a cedar stands she grieving,
Bows her head in shame, a-weeping,
Cries upon the smelted moon beams,
Chastens, then, her ruthless sibling.

‘“King of priests, my Lord Apollo,
‘Reasons for his death ring hollow.
While the muses – nine that love thee –
Contemplate their selves, you’d fool me!”

Laughs the god: “Your love’s a martyr,”
Facing fear the charging Taurus,
“Tempted by the Atlas daughters,
Girls who shine on lucid waters.”