My Ba Flies in the Sycamore

My Ba Flies in the Sycamore

I have secreted away my heart in the arms of the sycamore,
glowing brightly in the dusky south where rises the flood;
taking as its companion the sorrows of sparrows,
who mourn for the water that rages within a cavern.

All lives dart to and fro like sparrows upon desert’s wind;
they find consolation in the miseries of the sky.
It is the promise of the ruddy and gilded dawn that guides them;
over the torrent of darkness where nets ensnare souls misguided.

Have I a comfort in the secret things of the earth;
the heady gossip of swallows who bring messages from far away.
They hold their beaks aloft in the prow of the Night-Ark;
it is Ra the Sun who hears them, whose beams alight with their feet.

Have I learned the secret language of those swallows,
their messages on the wind heralding the Sun-God’s return?
Or have I sought only the hungry pleasures of this world,
which eat a man alive and spit him out in the lonely west.

My ba flies in the sycamore unyielding against the eternal sky;
in the south where it drinks the flood and receives heaven’s breast.
The two mounds of my Goddess enchant the eastern sky,
where Ra of the Double Horizon reveals His face in Her mirror.

O nehet-sycamore of refuge dazzling in your turquoise light;
spread your fingers into the sky where Ra feeds you rejuvenation.
What you receive from your father’s face irradiates your breast;
where my parched lips drink from that holy spring of the south.

I come having been bludgeoned by the anger of the desert;
demanding to be heard, he has removed the green land from my gaze.
You are that verdant refuge where the soul finds solace;
reaching out with your two arms and drawing journeyers to your breast.

Gold becomes you and lapis lazuli finds your noble brow;
where the Eye of the Sun-God is completed to perfection.
Your body of precious metals fulfills the sky in its wholeness,
where Ra is reborn from your loins of myrrh fragrance.

Attend me O Sycamore when I come to your branches;
a hole where my heart was now the nesting place of sparrows.
To your lofty branches flutter the bau-souls of the departed;
on their way to the Western Mount where the Sun is swallowed whole.

Make me the Sun, O my Goddess of the Twin Sycamores;
birth me from the hallows of your gap in youth-bearing east!
Your sky is split open to reveal the face of the Sun-Calf;
dappled with your luster He becomes the torch of the earth.

I too dazzle as turquoise beneath those eastern twins,
whose shades fall as malachite before the life-giving pool.
My ba in flight has found respite in the magic of Her branches;
where earth and sky meet in ecstatic union to give eternal birth.

Hwt-Her my Goddess has appeared within Her eastern pool;
clad in net of gold Her copper skin breathes with sacred myrrh.
With hips like wide mountains she encircles east and west;
the music of Her thighs singing the Sun-God to shine upon the world.

Mistress of the Sycamore and Lady of the Sky,
bend back your fecund branches to fill my heart’s vessel!
When the thirst of travelers makes mountains of the dead,
yours is the spring of unending sweetness imbibing famished souls.

When calls the hallowed west to bring the Sun to his Mother,
I merge with holy Ra to make shelter in heaven’s stars.
Yours are the Imperishable Stars, O Sycamore of the Sky,
within whose infinite reach the Moon-God is enshrined.

Bring a torch for me in the east and let my eyes dance with the Sun;
born as He is through your gilded cleft where all life finds renewal.
I have learned the secret language of swallows for which the Sun rises;
these beats and breaths of my living heart now planted in your keeping.

Now sing words O Goddess from which your Sun shall draw His living breath;
to make all sleeping hearts beat again as drums to meet your dancing.
May fine myrrh kiss the mouth of darkness to open up its light;
a turquoise spark to set a fire against the midnight sky.

The beautiful speech of the Sycamore-Mistress now fills the empty vault:
Come O bau-souls traveling on the hollow breath of darkness,
drink my light of turquoise as it shatters over the earth;
your bau-souls fly in my sycamore branches!
Come lonely and bereft of life,
whose weary travels have ensnared all joy;
let joy be rekindled in the fragrance of my two arms,
held out wide and carrying the Sun between them.
He rises and you rise;
your bau-souls fly in my sycamore branches!
As the west swallows whole all that east has given,
you shall find that southern route where surge the waters of becoming;
your bau-souls fly in my sycamore branches!
As every full vessel is poured out in thirst’s greedy wake,
you shall find the flood of renewal beneath your dusty feet;
your bau-souls fly in my sycamore branches!
As hungry west devours all that lives in the shadow of the Sun,
the east shall behold you as the dappled Sun-Calf
striding before His pool;
your bau-souls fly in my sycamore branches!
As Ra the aged comes himself to the open mouth of the sky,
you become the ram of the Sun-God embraced by the Unwearying Stars;
your bau-souls fly in my sycamore branches!
So rise, rise, rise O you bau-souls crossing the western shore!
Fly up as swallows to take your place in the prow of the Night-Ark;
your bau-souls fly in my sycamore branches!
Ascend, ascend, ascend O you bau-souls coming forth by day!
Soar as falcons of gold to make your nest in my mansion;
your bau-souls fly in my sycamore branches!
Live, live, and live again O you bau-souls carrying your hearts with you!
Filled again are the vessels of your hearts with the secret language of life;
your bau-souls fly in my sycamore branches!

I have flown up with my heart into the arms of the sycamore,
filled to completion in the Sun-bearing east where rises the light;
taking as its companion the rejoicing of sparrows,
who celebrate the renewal of life that grows within the sky.

To have darted to and fro without knowledge of cause or purpose,
I come now to the brilliant home where my life finds its breath again.
To have braved my travels in a dark sky where death becomes my mother;
My ba flies in the sycamore encircled by the eternal sky.

All text copyright © 2016 Ptahmassu Nofra-Uaa

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