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
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Lady Labyrinth
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