Eagle of the deep blue sky,
Watching, waiting, to see my open eye,
See me awaken and fly towards me.
Fly towards the window of the world,
Closed and invisible;
My child’s hand touches glass,
Then finds the space between
To stretch and grasp
Just one long tail-feather
For the dream-catcher.
Lucas stood up straight. He felt remarkably alert and energised, with no unpleasant symptoms or side-effects whatsoever.
Feeling on top of the world and filled with unusual zeal, he turned swiftly on his heel as if following directions from an all-powerful, albeit benevolent force.
Immediately upon turning, his eyes alit upon an extraordinarily bright and lucid body in the now-clear sky. He instantly reverted back to a trance-like state, with both eyes fixed on the beautiful blue light that was shining like a jewel. It twinkled vigorously and he was compelled to speak loudly and with peculiar emphasis:
“PUL-SAAARRR”
Then Lucas came back down to Earth and headed back up the stairs to his third-floor apartment.
As he turned another corner he spied the fullness of the moon, a perfect circle of such astonishing radiance that its dark-side was easily visible to the naked eye.
At first sight of this orb he ground to a halt like a rabbit stunned by headlights, feeling instantly and unmistakably reflective: “I’m a mirror”, he murmured thoughtfully and then paused as if searching for a reason. “It’s the mooooooon”, he added spookily, with an intonation that implied he’d achieved a fathomless knowledge of spheres.
What a night!
Shortly released from the lunar entity, Lucas bounded up the stairs with child-like glee, having absorbed enough energy to power a small village. Come to think of it, with his broad and extensive range of contacts, both personal and business-related, he had the virtual potential to do such a thing.
He was overjoyed by the thought of the brilliant network of initiates he could create.
So many people to start communicating with!
Once inside the flat, Lucas strode purposefully into the bedroom and lay flat on his back on the bed with his legs pressed tight together and his arms crossed over his chest. Within five seconds he was deep into a lucid dream world where radiant male and female angels in tuxedos and debutante gowns attended to him while he sat under palm trees before a turquoise ocean.
From the eyes of every one of them shone a dazzling and strangely penetrating, silvery white light.
As he strutted past the row of third-floor flats with his hands in his pockets, confident of another successful evening, a peculiar chill in the mid-summer air made Lucas step up his pace. “Bit parky”, he muttered to himself, with an uncharacteristic shiver.
Lengthening odds and a cool breeze aside, this man’s progress to The George would have proceeded uneventfully and in precisely the same fashion as had occurred on most Saturday nights for the past fifteen years, had he had not fumbled with his keys and dropped them through a gap in the railings onto the second-floor walkway below.
He cursed under his breath and, instead of carrying on to the small private car park outside the flats, Lucas took a right turn at the second floor in the direction of numbers eight to twelve.
The outside lights had broken on this level and there was no visible moon to properly illuminate his way, for at that point of time it was hiding behind the only cloud – a great, dark skudder – in the otherwise crystal-clear sky.
Scanning the floor for his key ring, Lucas soon spotted a steely glimmer close to number ten. Stepping forward and bending down quickly, he scooped up the keys with relief.
That would have been the end of that had he not noticed a very strange light emanating from behind the partly-closed curtains of number eleven.
Lucas was not usually a nosy person, but something about the light seemed to draw him closer, almost against his will; almost as if he were being hypnotised.
For some strange reason, the closer he got to the window, the warmer the atmosphere became. By the time he reached the window-sill of number eleven’s spare bedroom, the temperature would register at a distinctly Egyptian 33 degrees.
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.”
Marked these words the quill of Hermes:
Raise the green-lipped youth Adonis.
Listen well, as if to Eros,
See the truth within his promise.
Through the self, a solar system
Metes out time. The planets singing,
Seal in lines the great revision.
“Light!” The cosmic bells are ringing.
Truth reflects within the like minds,
As are scanned the skies sky for giants’
Astronomic temples; sun-signs
Trace the thread of ancient science.
There in orbit turn the star-lings,
Planets binding, suns inclining,
In such ways that whole dimensions
Fold inside the vaults of Heaven.
Angels watch the hidden stargates –
One from North, a second South-side –
East and West. The seal is six-faced,
Secret form: A cube-shaped inside.
Know the birds sing as you enter
Into space. The sidereal turning
Back reveals inside the memories,
Log-book of a life-times’ journeys.
Star flight is the love inflection,
Four plus one, the whole quintessence.
Flame, Air, Water, Earth, Reflection,
Quantum leaps in five directions.
Twelve the signs that mark the time-piece,
Zodiacal months and sections.
Fiery Water, Earth-Air, star suite.
‘Now behold the Ram,’ says Hermes.