O Thou that sittest upon the Earth! Thou art not greater than thy mother! Thou speck of dust infinitesimal! Thou art the Lord of Glory, and the unclean dog. Stooping down, dipping my wings, I came unto the darkly-splendid abodes. There in that formless abyss was I made a partaker of the Mysteries Averse. I suffered the deadly embrace of the Snake and of the Goat; I paid the infernal homage to the shame of Khem. Therein was this virtue, that the One became the All. Moreover, I beheld a vision of a river. There was a little boat thereon; and in it under purple sails was a golden woman, an image of Asi wrought in finest gold. Also the river was of blood, and the boat of shining steel. Then I loved her; and, loosing my girdle, cast myself into the stream. Yea! I gave her of the flower of my youth. O serpent woman of the stars! I, even I, have fashioned Thee from a pale image of fine gold. Who art thou that dost float and fly and dive and soar in the inane? Behold, these many aeons have passed; whence camest thou? Whither wilt thou go? Is there not joy ineffable in this aimless winging? Is there not weariness and impatience for who would attain to some goal? Ah! but we floated in the infinite Abyss. Joy! Joy! O silence! O rapture! O end of things visible and invisible! This is all mine, who am Not. Thou shalt manifest Thyself in the unmanifest; in the secret places men shall meet with thee, and Thou shalt overcome them. I am the heart, and Thou the serpent. Awake Thou! wait no more! Nay, Lord! but I am come to Thee. It is I that wait at last. I waited patiently, and Thou wast with me from the beginning. O Thou beloved One! is there not an end? Nay, but there is an end. Awake! arise! gird up thy limbs, O thou runner; bear thou the Word unto the mighty cities, yea, unto the mighty cities. ~Liber LXV
Posted on: Sun, 24 Aug 2014 00:00:22 +0000