8 Little Egypts

Something strange and unexplainable comes this way, this way, it comes to us sly and fast, some say, perhaps, it has already arrived, it walks unseen, in the midst of all, of us we go about our daily business, as if all our tomorrows are far away and we could be made golden, inside our tarnished containers the watchers observe, silent voices that whisper their prayers to us, some of us listen and laugh, some of us rub our foreheads, as if to rub away such Tav in the world as if we are clean, as if we are not marked, and never will be marked, by something ancient hovering over us, some see signs, those few - well, they wait and watch; stories of an eclipse where the Moon kisses the Sun it languishes sensually in Her darkness and all below laid wasted, kings and queens, all now are falling, by then, when arcs are kissed, all Lots have fallen; bad seeds are tilled from the soil of it all, daily now, we are charged senselessly unaware, surfing in the electric news, of it all, the hidden mysteries seep through, drawn and quartered, bloody masses fed to the dogs, those idolised, once worshipped as saints, now fallen saints exposed, messy lists gone all public, pinned to the walls of their heavens and hells; in the brief we’ve been given, in words worn like amulets in books held like talismans, through Emet, we have been instructed, always, what Is and what is yet to be, that which was laid in words before us, always that returning, niggling issue, palms open red, those bloody footprints always left unshrouded and resurrecting again, that crown of thorns will again, eventually be revealed to all, in our hearts and the rebuilding of those broken temples, there lies the all-seeing embedded, like an emerald tablet, the hope of saving all little children that they may survive the cloak of darkness to listen again, to the wisdom of the unknown Thoth to seek stability in the permanence of a rock, the forgotten one, a philosopher, a saviour and a poet, that promised stalwart cornerstone - this is what some hope; what we hear inside the mind, throughout our days, worse in the early hours of all our mournings, something quietly different. Easter arrives 1 week late, yet, on time, on point, the 8th day of a new month, resurrected, kissing an eclipse arcing through 8 little Egypts all with the same name baptised. the fall of empires all around us our world falls out of rhyme the other supernatural world creeps upon us, prophetically, almost we are human, we are out of time mere seconds before midnight, we become more human, fully understanding our fragile limitations, what lived in us all the time, misunderstood and unacknowledged, lights out, silently and fast we were given fair warning – in words, through books, we were taught to read, religously we discarded as delusional chapters, all words of fantasy, fictions to always go unwarranted, unheeded we had better more impressive schemes to master, than to waste our time on words from another master, words in those tomes off-handedly considered, merely Childrens’ Sunday School stories - the parables largely forgotten, for sake of better toys released, most classes now, have largely been dismissed. we are all children, again, bored and ill prepared, swiping right and left, hiding under covers cloaked in the shadows of the approaching storm, it is unseen, by most, but close upon us, some don't feel anything at all, some sense it closing in, like rodents between closing walls its breath like a tornado rising urgently pressing and almost there, rushes past our daze, loud, like music apocalyptic we close our eyes, we close our ears we close our windows, we close our doors we close our mouths, as if to shut a bad prophecy out, as if to sleep through it all like a bad dream and when we wake, the demons' all let out even those who are best prepared will be seen to be unfound, and lost, and ill-prepared, looking for a torch with never-ending batteries like alchemic Telesma to save us when that Night riding clouds arrives, spectacularly fast; like a revelation, it dawns on us, we have already been raised half-mast 8 Ninevahs, revealed at last. The 8th Gate, golden, opens. (Lady Labyrinth / March-April 2024) Easter, 2024. 8th April, 2024, The Eclipse (North America) “And it shall come to pass, that all they that look upon thee shall flee from thee, and say, Nineveh is laid to waste: who will bemoan her? whence shall I seek comforters for thee?” (Nahum 3:7 KJV) “From earth it ascends to heaven, and then back to earth, From heaven it descends, gradually receiving, The virtues of both that it encloses in its belly.” (Hesteau 1639, p. 10 , ref. Emerald Tablet) The Sun and the Moon represent alchemical gold and silver. Hortulanus interprets "telesma" as "secret" or "treasure":  "It is written afterward: 'The father of all telesma of the world is here,' that is to say: in the work of the stone is found the final path. And note that the philosopher calls the operation 'father of all telesma,' that is to say, of all the secret or all the treasure of the entire world, that is to say, of every stone discovered in this world.". (Hortulanus, philosopher, poet; ref Emerald Tablet) “The Stone the builders rejected, has become the corner stone” (Psalm 118:22-23) Isaiah 19 KJV (… Easter Egg) Nahum 3 KJV Matthew 16 NIV (...Easter Egg) Numbers 19 NIV 8 April 2024, Eclipse Ninevah x 8, North America Conspiratorial Reports Tav/Hebrew. Emet/Hebrew4Christians (link below) The Emerald Tablet Thoth Telesma