The Cleopatra Tales 4: Initiatory Blessing

The Cleopatra Tales 4: Initiatory Blessing

2 February 2017

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2 thoughts on “The Cleopatra Tales 4: Initiatory Blessing

  1. From the Egyptian Book of the Dead (11 Triumph through the Cities)

    Hail Thoth, architect of truth, give me words of power that I may write the story of my own becoming.
    I stand before the masters who witnessed the creation, who were with Ra that morning the sun rolled into being, who were with Osiris in the grave as he gathered himself together and burst from the tomb white with heat, a light and shining god. And they are Temu, who uttered the word of beginning, and his children, mist and air. I, too, am a man longing for unity. I, too, am a man who holds the lance of light, who strikes a blow against darkness as when Ra appears at dawn and sends his sword into the belly of night and the serpent spews back all the things he has swallowed. I wait to come forth by day in Heliopolis, city of light.

    Hail Thoth, architect of truth, give me words of power that I may recall the years and weave together my history. I stand before the masters who witnessed the recollection of Osiris, who gathered together his backbones, who set up columns of carnelian and gold, who built around themselves a fortress of strength with the lapis lazuli of god. And they are Osiris, whose body was severed, Isis and Nephthys, who gathered his parts, and Horus, who avenged his death by striking a blow against evil. He raised him up in deed and memory. He wound the cloth of being tight and, retelling his father’s history, became the shoulder whereon Osiris stood. Then the goddesses sailed upon the Nile in boats of twinkling lights, one for each day to mark the year that Osiris was king. I, too, am a man longing for unity. I wait to come forth strong in Tettu,
    fortress of the god’s backbones.

    Hail Thoth, architect of truth, give me words of power that I may form the characters of my own evolution.
    I stand before the masters who witnessed the genesis, who were the authors of their own forms, who rolled into being, who walked the dark circuitous passages of their own becoming,who saw with their own eyes their destinies and the shapes of things to come. And they are Thoth, the beetle Khepera, and Horus, the child become man. I, too, am a man longing for change. I wait to come forth by day in Sekhem,
    city of unified forms.

    Hail Thoth, architect of truth, give me words of power that I may envision the course of events that a life must follow. I stand before the masters who attended the birth of Horus, who at his conception decreed on him the duty to avenge his father, who hid the child and his mother in the papyrus swamps, who shielded the infant in obscurity that he might grow in secret, who commanded the dreams wherein his father spoke of his future destiny. And they are Horus himself and Isis, who conceived him in magic, and Mestha, who was the spirit’s witness, and Hapi, the voice of the Nile which taught the child flux and flow. I, too, am a man longing to attend destiny. I sit in silence listening to the lady of flame, that flickering tongue of the inner voice, the conscience, the self-prophecy. I wait to come forth by day in Pe-tep, cities of obscurity.

    Hail Thoth, architect of truth, give me words of power that I may intuit the symbols of dream and command my own becoming. I stand before the masters who witnessed the working of magic, who were with Isis the evening she became the swallow and her lamentations filled the air, who were with her as she shook down her black hair and veiled the god’s transformation in secret, who witnessed the conception of the divine child though his coming was yet unrevealed. And they are Isis, who worked the charm, and Hathor,
    who interpreted the stars. And they are goddesses of beauty and of wonder and of revelation. I, too, am a man who dreams. I, too, believe in miracles and I work my spells well to achieve them.
    I wait to come forth by day in Sept, city of shredding the veil.

    Hail Thoth, architect of truth, give me words of power that when I speak the life of a man I may give his story meaning. I stand before the masters who know the histories of the dead, who decide which tales to hear again, who judge the books of lives as either full or empty, who are themselves authors of truth. And they are Isis and Osiris, the divine intelligences. And when the story is written and the end is good and the soul of a man is perfected, with a shout they lift him into heaven. I, too, am a man longing for perfection.
    I wait to shine forth in Manu, the place of the setting sun.

    Hail Thoth, architect of truth, give me words of power that I may tell the truth of my own becoming.
    I stand before the masters who witness the judgment of souls, who sniff out the misdeeds, the imperfections, the lies and half-truths we tell ourselves in the dark. And they are Thoth and his two companions, Anubis and Asten, who hold the books of truths and lies and make comparisons. It is the night of blotting out souls, of staying transformation, of withholding the power of a man to make mischief. Speak.
    I am a man longing for candor. I wait to come forth by day in Abydos, city of the dead.

    Hail Thoth, architect of truth, give me words of power that I may complete my story and begin life anew.
    I stand before the masters who witnessed the plowing of earth, who saw the seed that entered the fields spring into corn and barley, who sent the flood and sun, who saw men among the wheat swinging scythes, who saw women baking bread. And the death of the wheat was not lost. And a new beginning was foretold in the end that a man may rise from his grave singing. And the divine witnesses are the souls of animals; the souls of wheat, vegetables and men; the souls of everything that heaven and earth created and the souls of everything they shall claim again. So the river of life is red as blood and light as the breath of spirit.
    I wait to come forth again in Sekhet-Aanru, the greening fields of papyrus.

    Hail Thoth, architect of truth, give me words of power that I may create myself from my dreams of becoming.
    I stand before the masters who witnessed the transformation of the body of a man into the body in spirit, who were witnesses to resurrection when the corpse of Osiris entered the mountain and the soul of Osiris walked out shining. And they are Ra, the light of divinity, and Shu, the breath of god. He gathered his thigh, his heel and his leg. He gathered his arms and backbones. He gathered the dreams crackling inside the dark cave of his skull. He knitted himself together in secret. He came forth from death, a shining thing, his face white with heat. I, too, am a man longing for unity. I wait at the passageway into the mountain. I come forth by day Anrutf, doorway to transformation.

    Hail Thoth, architect of truth, give me words of power that the heart of my story may beat strong enough for a man to rise up and walk in it. I stand before the masters who witnessed the magic of making. And they are Horus and Isis who stood before the corpse of Osiris, but it was Anubis who spread his hands, wrenched open the chest and commanded the heart of Osiris to beat, to cleave and make way for the light that was coming. Then the will of Osiris rose up and spoke to its body. His heart beat and Isis rejoiced, then Horus was born in the body of spirit. Osiris united with heaven and earth. I, too, am a man longing for unity.
    I, too, am a soul opening unto light. I wait to come forth by day in Restau, the passage unto god.

    Hail Thoth, architect of truth, give me words of power before gods and goddesses and creatures of light and the messengers of heaven. Grant me unity of the heart, mind and spirit. Grant me love and light, an everlasting body. Grant me the words of transformation and the will of the flesh to make things happen.
    I wait to come forth by day again. My body turns to greening. I wait to give birth unto dream, to give form to the peace in my heart. I shall be a man on earth shaping the things of god. I am light entering unto fire, coming forth and shining through darkness. May I walk beneath blue heaven singing, my heart telling the story of light. I am a man blessed by becoming millions and millions of times.

    May God bless you, Geetha
    Paul

    Liked by 1 person

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