Pros Theon: Secrets Fragment

It should be seen and heard that repentance has been brought into actualization and has now been fully activated by the collective knowledge of the requisite number of beings.

May the spirit of the offering be received as it was made, with pure intent.

The perfect sacrifice is that which is most dearly beloved yet does no longer involve the corporeal shedding of blood.

There are those who fear that the deepest esoteric secrets and teachings of the original universal states would be exposed and taken in vain and it is to be hoped that the encryption is secure enough to prevent wrongful disclosure.

Overall it is considered now that things once kept as a reserve for the few should now be made available to one and all, in the interest of equality. To remain open to evolutionary change is a fundamental duty of the priests of true religions.

To proceed with care is necessary for there is a paradox that must be maintained in order to preserve mystical essence and the corpus of strength whilst ensuring that light within this body is allowed to penetrate beyond the boundaries of dogma.

That all was created through the technicolour language of love with joy and pain is known; the writing on the walls has been seen. The consequential beauty was so immeasurable as to be rendered invisible to the naked eye in all ways but one that is nature unveiled.

This in itself is that which is usually seen and is the perpetual unfoldment of an immaculate conception. Immaculate because it was brought into being that it may be more than a figment of love’s imagination.

The perfect original as it came into effect during the given age is therefore experienced but frequently unknown though this has been shown. There is more that could be said of the creation but the only word capable of defining this much is held within. The captive heart of love is bound forever by the memory of how it felt to remember this. Fortune was blessed as a spectrum of light stretched across the soul’s plane to show that the mirror of heaven is upon the Earth.

This is to bring hope anew to whosoever has fainted from despair and sees, though they cannot yet believe, that the circle of the arch of the sky is completed beneath the surface of the oceans and sands.

Travel Time

A huge ellipse with markers strewn –
Stretching far, it seemed a tunnel –
Looked immensely like an air-strip,
Star-port landing, this the summit.

Before my eyes the globe appeared –
Pupils widened, thoughts ran clear –
Radiance filled the tunnel, deep;
Hidden star-ways mark this keep.

Then were sounds of celebration –
Laughter, shouting, whooping, cheering –
Drifting down to where I waited;
From their vantage point they watched it.

As it glided, came to standstill,
‘Here’s the moon!’ cried out the nation.
Thus I pondered, numb with wonder:
‘What brought round this situation?’

Whose the hymn of ardent praise,
The church of luminary office;
Are there here to end their long days,
Star-struck scientists of Attis?

Did these ancient priests control
The queen of ebbing, flowing tides,
The weathered ship of midnight squalls,
The treasured orb that mirrors light?

Only one can read their signs
If free; the one will travel time.
Then to one, unseen, unheard
Shall be revealed at once these words.

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.”