Do His Hands Touch the Sky

Through the rustling branches of the tamarisk I hear
the voice of that goddess who brings up hearts in her hands;
her cascade of water entices me to sit beside the thigh of the sun,
to which the souls of the earth are drawn in their twilight season.

With cupped hands I drink from the flood of her golden breast,
the life she gives striking the desert of my lips as turquoise.
I drink the memory of precious stone where my youth is kept;
beneath that perpetual sky I find the wings of my fledgling ba.

O my ba-soul dressed in the glimmering dawn,
where the waters of life seek out worthy lips;
my goddess of the east arrays you in cornflower blue
with her arms of encircling gold;
just as she does for the shoulders of the naked sun,
her cloak of dappled plumage becomes your eastern power.

The heron becomes you, whose double plume stirs the horizons;
he knows the essence of lotus that breathes through his wings.
Those spirits in the drifting sky chirp your name as Ra of the heights,
who has come from the beginning with sunbeams for his colors.

O my ba-soul powered by the undaunted wind,
where the breath of the vault revivifies worthy lungs;
my goddess of the north hoists a sail for you
with her arms of turquoise enchantments;
just as she does for the boat of the twilight sun,
her fabric of swift moving clouds becomes your northern power.

Do his hands touch the sky, this ba of mine in starry flight;
for I have seen the Bull’s Thigh in a veil worn high, in lofty waters suspended.
His wholesome eyes climb that ladder in the sky, on wing of north ascending;
this ba of mine with indestructible wings to join the zenith of lights.

O my ba-soul drawn forth by the gap in the sky,
where the mouth of the sycamore swallows worthy spirits;
my goddess of the west unveils her thighs for you
with her arms of rising constellations;
just as she does for the face of the nighttime sun,
her womb of twelve hours becomes your western power.

I began as a ram-soul of the ancient earth driving the light before me;
whose flickering form like the wings of sparrows caught the evening air.
My skin of myrrh knows the history of the sky, her breath of time and memory;
where the body of the earth is born again on the wings of the eastern beacon.

O my ba-soul clad in the spring of that heavenly sycamore,
where the breast of the sky fills worthy hearts;
my goddess of the south opens the flood for you
with her arms of lapis renewal;
just as she does for the loins of the potent sun,
her cleft of celestial waters becomes your southern power.

I do not end as a corpse planted in the keep of the earth,
nor can the hallows of the west trap me behind her dusky shutters;
they are thrown wide open by the span of my wings of the horizon,
from which the sun rises to the netherworld’s acclaim.

Through the rustling branches of the sycamore I hear
the voice of that goddess who brings up spirits in her hands;
her song of birds in flight draws me down beside the thigh of the sky,
to which the souls of the earth are drawn in their twilight season.

All text copyright © 2016 Ptahmassu Nofra-Uaa

Sacred Verses (22): Walking With Date Palms

Remove the veil from my eyes O sky
so that I, like you in your finest hour,
may peer out openly at the ascending stars;
whose charted courses still appear mysterious to my virgin eyes,
stripped now of their illusions and in wonder like a child.
I need no veil to disguise my intentions,
no cloud or mantle to hide away my heart from sunset;
he comes to greet me with fiery gold upon his shoulders,
the west wind at his back;
the desert in its jealous rages is quelled by his upright footsteps.

He greets me with the song of sparrows weaving through his clouds;
those ruddy clouds dancing above the sovereign cliffs and mountains,
bestowing their sand to the winds as a chafing gift;
but still I need no veil to hide my naked shoulders.
I would rather wear the cape of the indomitable sky,
whose only industry is to make love to the sun;
to cradle the clouds that come to rise upon the celestial waters;
to give the eastern horizon a mirror to sit upon its golden throne;
to give starry Mother a child to swallow when he descends the western horizon;
to give the constellations a veil of lapis lazuli for their glittering limbs.
It is they, not I, who don the twilight veil to become the house of Mysteries.

I have walked alone these many and opaque ages;
many lifetimes with the pall of ignorance as my inheritance,
with eyes that are open yet carry no sight.
How much cooler to embrace the desert’s mirage
than brave the sands for what they are.
Should I take up that veil again to soften the sun’s glare;
his eager stare blazing over my tender skin like the heat of a lover?
I would rather kiss his fingers where they fall,
offer him the cool luxury of my bed;
these before I would shield his existence from my exposed purpose.

Having run away from the sun when I was only a child,
I turn now and face his scathing embrace;
and what I find in the florid sky is a mirror reflecting
the tread of my careless feet through this world.
Burning through the skins of others, I have become the desert sun.
All along it was never I who needed the veil’s protection,
but the eyes of others whose hearts were burned by my stare.

Now I am walking with date palms,
whose fruit like gemstones falls in my waiting lap.
Justice is loyal to herself; she follows the hands that work for the tree
wherever they have traveled.
Tears are the bounty she brings for the eyes that have caused them;
fear is the edge of her sword drawn to the shield held against her;
thirst is the glance of her ample bosom held out for the mouth
that opposed her;
but she requites with favor the heart that knows her noble labors;
she bestows in kind what the heart has to give her.

Shall I hold out two doves in my waiting hands,
offering to you the peace that wind brought me from the tender north?
Have you heard their cooing voices,
so like the persuasions of my heart when it joins you?
You who have become a journeyer with me,
whose eyes have looked east to face the blazing sun;
you whose feet have tread the thorny and fallen boughs;
you whose lips have ached to kiss my half moon lips;
you whose hands have held the wandering stars to guide me;
you whose arms have never faltered to keep my sky suspended;
you whose names have moved my lips when my knees drew the earth;
you whose words twittered in my ears with the language of sparrows;
you whose wings found wind and sky beckoning above my brow;
you in whose keeping the hallowed Mysteries have remained inviolate.
You have moved your feet on the blare of the desert wind beside me,
and I lift up my two hands to offer you the refuge of my heart.

I lift up my open palm of water to the thirsty sky,
and through its miracle I feed the world.
There is no desert left in me for you to brave with starving feet;
there are no stones for you to cross in your path;
there are no mountains to tear the veil of your peaceful sky;
there is no flame hidden from your cold hands when the sun is devoured;
there is no torrent to blot out the starry courses that go before you;
there is no endless journey in the sky for the swallow’s wings of your soul;
there are no labors in the sun without the moon to reward them;
there is no heaven without the illumination of stars to light it.
These all may be found for you in the open palm of my hand,
which carries the miracle of water to quench the thirsty sky.

Shelter me as does the earth to mountains;
not in my time of weakness, but when my heart climbs high with fortitude.
I am a date palm in the wind of your adept fingers;
my fruit falls into your waiting hands
as do stars through the dusky veil.
The veil cannot hold them, those stars of brilliant ages,
whose lamps form a trail of gold across a lapis dome;
and no veil can contain the far-striding feet of my heart,
light upon the pathways of the earth when nearing you.

If that canopy above us remains parched by the desert gale,
then we will lift up our open palms of water to the thirsty sky;
and through our miracle we will feed the world.
Now we are walking with date palms,
stripped of our illusions and in wonder like a child.
This is our finest hour, beholding the ascending stars
with fresh and virgin eyes as they ascend with millions of ages.
They come down through the paths of the desert sky
as they have always done;
and we come back through the paths of the desert earth
as we have always done.
We need no veil to disguise our intentions,
our stars glistening in their ancient courses.
We need no mantle to clothe our eyes,
walking with date palms through the desert crossroads.
We need only open our palms of water to the thirsty sky,
and through our miracle we will feed the world.

All text copyright © 2016 Ptahmassu Nofra-Uaa

Sacred Verses (18): Coming Forth By Day

I have left my body behind
in the earth that hungers for flesh and bone;
flesh of my mother’s keeping, transfigured into an effigy;
bone of my father’s shaping, silent as a stone by the wayside.
Am I now a cold lamp guttering as eventide clothes the mountains?
Am I spirited from my skin and blood to become a dusky shadow
of those mountains my eyes have always seen from a distance?

There is no distance now between I and the mountains, brooding;
between I and the wayside, littered with stones;
between I and the black soil, cold without life’s footfall;
between I and the cavernous hallows where the Sun-God is swallowed.
Now I am swallowed beyond the joys of the earthly banks
where life does not tarry.

I come to the gap in the silent earth
where the fragile body of the Sun-God is swallowed by his starry mother;
the ebony plaits of her hair swinging low as the net of the naked sky.
Her fecund breasts hang down to meet my parched lips;
these wanderers in the darkness with my tongue taking suck,
fed by the luminescence of constellations in her net.
Drink!  Drink!  These dancing fires say to me.
Fill your mouth with memory,
that you may know where you have been!

But my body has long since departed;
or is it what was within my body that has departed
to become a spectral light wandering?
It is the Sun-God who wanders with me into the Mother’s celestial hallow;
his aged and shaggy body like that of an old ram.
Ba!  Ba!  Sing the stars in their net as he passes;
glinting as silver, his creaking bones through his skin;
flashing as copper and gold through the dust of the ages, his flesh;
brittle yet vivid to my downturned eyes, his locks of lapis lazuli.

“You have at last found your father”, the Sun-God said to me;
“who is received in the west when twilight comes
to kiss the Two Banks with her starry lips;
and you have found your Mother.
You enter the mouth of your Mother who receives you,
who swallows you whole as she swallows the bodies of memory,
past and present;
who swallows all that is spoken, in the past and what is yet to come;
whose hunger encircles the earth and knows no limits;
whose body is time and whose stars are the future courses
of the earth;
whose constellations unveil the seeds of distant ages;
whose ages are the roots of a great tree where the Sun goes to die.
But he is reborn from the crown of its branches,
which pierce the flank of the Sky and draw forth Her lights.
She is the Sky of the First Beginning, this Mother into whom I descend;
she who gulps down the stars and the swollen moon,
all dancing for her in their orbits around the vault.
She is the Mother who gave me my true and secret name;
the name that contains every memory since time began”.

The Sun-God was swallowed before my very eyes;
naked and bereft of all light, naked of flesh and sensual blood.
I found the crocodile in his place, whose jaws spanning miles
held the quivering light of the moon.
“I swallow the Moon-God when he has grown bloated”,
crocodile said to me;
“when he has grown fat with memory,
and competes with the stars for their light.
I devour innocence as the fresh flowers on the bank;
the wind which comes from the promise of harvest;
the black earth from which green shoots spring;
the pregnant soil of the Two Banks which know the memory of life;
the sycamore whose leaves foretell the future and whose roots
cling to the past;
youth and its seasons of dalliance and pleasure;
experience, which itself is fragile as the shell of an egg.
All of these I devour at will, like I devour the Moon-God
and grow swollen upon his luster”.

To greedy old crocodile I said:
“I shall plant myself in the black mud of my Father’s body,
and during the twilight hours I shall transform into a lotus;
a lotus of the primordial blue of the Ancient Waters,
where are found all the things that endure the ages;
for you are the hunger of age and time,
which are never sated and can never be veiled.
There are nightfall and eclipse which hunger for the sun;
drought and famine which hunger for the earth;
locust and rat which hunger for the corn;
fire and flood which hunger for the verdant fields;
barrenness and impotence which hunger for the generations;
loneliness and despair which hunger for the heart;
and you are death and putrefaction,
which ever hunger for the substance of life and form.

“But I have been given memory from the milk of my Mother;
and I have been given knowledge from the seed of my Father;
these things which are passed down and inherited
within the keep of the Mysteries.
The sky keeps them according to the courses of the stars,
who spell out in their journeys the language in which memory speaks;
and this language is unknown to death and dissolution,
which cannot unveil the uncreated nor devour the formless.
I become that sky-blue lotus clad in the Ancient Waters
before time, age, and form came into being;
thus the Sun-God is conceived in my belly,
and disperses his light to scatter the crocodiles of the abyss”.

Crocodile is eaten by the first golden beams of the eastern sky,
piercing the iron scales of his body like gilded barbs.
What death and extinction fear most is memory;
the intangible language of the ages,
which twitters in the ears of time as do swallows in the eaves by sundown.
Come little swallow, hearty and vociferous,
and give your memory to become the language of my new lips;
to pronounce the secret name of the Sun-God hidden
within the keep of the stars.

What swallow whispers in my wet ears is the conversation
of the abyss which was first heard by the Gods;
that in darkness we find our beginning,
secreted from the life of forms;
forms that dissipate and know time, and age, and death,
as all that becomes form shall know.
But the created shall migrate into the uncreated,
which is light before is passes over into the seen world;
which is seed before it bursts into the green shoots of the field;
which is sound before it is received by the ears;
which is the wind before it stirs the waters;
which is the sky after dusk and before the sun rises;
which is gold, untarnished and not birthed by the hand of man;
which is language before it is written or spoken;
which is thus memory, transferred from form to form to form;
outside time, and age, and death.

Swallow has become a falcon of gold absorbed by the sky,
whose wings now taste the courses stars have traveled.
To become as He I must look to the patterns that dance through my fingers;
illumination that plays upon the earth at our feet,
and above our heads spells out that secret name of the uncreated Sun-God.

With darkness as my womb and light as my guide,
I pass down through my many ages where the uncreated hide.
Reaching far back before the birth of my form,
to recover the pattern of language from which memory is born.

All text copyright © 2016 Ptahmassu Nofra-Uaa

The White Lotus Liturgy of Auset & Ausir~ Part Three

The adorer of Auset (Isis) and Ausir (Osiris) says:
I come, O my Mother Nuwit,
Into the Celestial Lake, endowed with a pure form,
Endowed with a pure heart, sailing over the Threshold
Of Light as one of the People of the Sun!

My name is ‘Becoming One’, the Egg of the Beginning,
Increasing in the Womb of Nuwit, the Swallower of the Stars!
I come as one of the stars in my name of ‘Completed One’,
The Celestial Father.

I am ‘Flesh of-Ra’ entering the mouth of evening, born anew
In the morning as ‘Flying-Sun’, exalted in His Ark as ‘Becoming One’.
May You receive me into the Secret Temple as one of the Disciples
Of Auset the Great; to live again, to flourish again, to enter
Resurrection as one of the Westerners of Ausir, the Forerunner
Of the Westerners!

The Goddess Nuwit, the Opener-of the Portal-of Heaven, says:
Come, O You Child ‘Flying-Sun’, rising in the eastern waters
Of the Celestial Lake and exalted as the ‘Babe in the Lotus’!
I birth you as the Incarnation of Ra, the First-God, the
Sovereign of the People of the Sun!
You are a child of the Black Land shining with turquoise-
Colored light!

You are as Ausir on that day of His resurrection,
When He became the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, the
Sovereign of All Nations and Lord Above All Gods!

You are as Orion the Holy One, the Portal to the Sacred Mansion,
Embraced by the Goddess Auset-Sothis in the eastern heaven.

You are one of the Disciples of Ausir the Anointed-One.
You come into the Sacred Lake of the Temple of Secrets,
And you are baptized in the Divine Essence of Ausir,
The Lord of Anointing.
Your transgressions are purified like that Wedjat Eye of Ra!
Your body is purified in the presence of the Holy Ka of Ausir,
The Master of Holiness!

The adorer of Auset and Ausir says: I come! I kneel
Beneath that Holy Ished Tree flourishing in the Sacred Courtyard
Of the God’s-House of Secrets!
I receive the Essence of The God in my heart, in my flesh,
As my Ka, in this my body.

I receive the Divine Ka of Auset my Lady!
I receive the Divine Ka of Ausir my Lord
As the fresh water of the south, pouring out from the Spirit
Of Ausir the Lord of Spirits.

Come! Come! Come, O Waters of the Goddess Auset,
Bringing nigh to me the power of everlasting life!
I receive the baptism of Your Holy Spirit O Ausir my Lord!
I receive the baptism of Your Holy Spirit O Auset my Lady!

O Waters, O Auset! O Waters, O Ausir!
O Power of Life pouring out as the Eternal God;
The Life, the Goddess Auset, the Life, the God Ausir, the Life, the Divine Ka!
Auset is the Life, the Holy Way of eternal life!
Ausir is the life, the Holy Way of eternal life
For all of humankind.

O Auset, She is the Lady of Eternal Life from the Primordial Beginning,
Pouring out from the First-Occasion as the Goddess Who bestows
The gift of the Eternal Soul.

All text copyright © 2001-2015 Rev. Ptahmassu Nofra-Uaa

The Elixir of Life~ Part Four

O Netjer, You are the Sa of Creation, the Sap, the Quintessence, the Fluid of Life from which created things draw sustenance! You are not one but the All, encompassing every form, every characteristic, every quality in the Universe, and are beyond the things dwelling in Creation. You are the Netjeru, and the Netjeru manifest Your hidden essence, though They do not reveal it to the naked eye! How can I know You, O God of the Gods? How can I draw nearer to receive Your essence?

My heart sings a praise, yet gives rise to questions, here in this womb where the God’s living image is maintained, where His Sa is channeled for the benefit of all men. I kiss the Earth before the Netjer, quieting my heart, hearing my breath as it slips softly from my lips. The Netjer rises in His shine of gold. His voice enters the ears of my heart, though no audible sound disturbs the sanctified quiet of the Holy of Holies.

“Where am I”, the Netjer says, “if not in the shrine of your heart? For where else can you receive the Wisdom of my Ka, if not in understanding, if not in awe of the gifts of life and Creation? I am the Ka from which all Kas were born, the Divine Artisan from Whose word the Spirits of the Gods came into being, from Whom life was animated and the Earth was given form. I am the Power from the Nuwn, the mysterious body of the Sa, and even the Netjeru do not know my true name or form. I am in what is seen and embody what is not seen. My Ka is Spirit, and enters the heart as Spirit, and awakens Creation as Spirit, as the Primordial Substance of Life.

This in man is transmitted in blood and seed, yet the beating of his heart contains it, and the actions of his body move on account of it. It is when the Sa departs for its transformations between the worlds that a man dies to his Earthly body and enters his Ka. He sees his Sa rejoined to the Sa of Sas from which it was drawn, and he sees that the heart is the true vessel of wisdom by which he is judged. Let his heart contain Wisdom, virtue and Ma’at. Let his heart shine with perception of what is right, and thus transform him into a Being of Illumination. Let him practice justice while he is alive upon the Earth, benefiting his peers, being a brother to all, being a just Ka whose desires have been invested with the Spirit of his Netjer.

Where is the Netjer of man? The Netjeru have come to dwell in Their bodies of Earth and stone and wood as it was ordained by my mouth in the Ocean of Nuwn, thus have the Kas of the Gods come to dwell in Their bodies upon the Earth, even as the Kas of humankind were bestowed with bodies for the use of their Kas. But it is the Ka that possesses eternal life, not the body. The Kas of the Gods are eternal as are the Kas of men, but their bodies are vivified only by the Ka and empowered by the substance of the Sa. Each Ka possesses the imprint of the Netjer Who fashioned it, and bears the sign of its Netjer within the understanding of the heart.

Sia-hat sia-hat sia-hat. Know the heart, know the heart, know the heart! It is in his heart, the reflection of his true nature, that a man carries the seal of his Netjer, the vehicle of his Ka. He may be in ignorance of it. He may betray it or choose to be blind to it, but his Netjer is the power of his Ka, the propeller of his Sa, and he will come to know it and embrace it throughout his many transformations. His body will be transformed, but his Ka will not. He will go to his Ka when his body makes union with the Earth, and he will see his Netjer and know that his Netjer is the parent of his Ka.

Fortunate are they who recognize the true nature of their heart while walking upon the Earth, and embrace their Netjer as the living power of their Ka. When a man knows his heart and embraces his Netjer he will act in harmony with the heart and Netjer resident in all things he encounters. He will not be in opposition to the Laws of Harmony hailed as Ma’at, the Foundation upon which Creation was brought into being. He will not struggle against his nature, his Netjer, nor will he find cause to struggle against the nature of Creation as it is. He will find harmony and know hotep, the peace of embracing one’s Ka, the satisfaction of perceiving the state of Creation as it truly is”.

Once again my heart is overawed and leaps with the joy of recognition. To know my heart is to know my Netjer and live in attunement with it! My Netjer is my nature, and if I choose to embrace It and live in harmony with It, then I will not rebel against the harmony of my own Ka, the satisfaction, the peace, the hotep of life. My heart has been sealed by a Netjer, and to know that Netjer and dwell in peace with it is to live in accordance with Ma’at, the Laws of Harmony out of which Creation unfolds. To live in harmony with life…to live in harmony with Creation. These should be the goals of my heart, my will and my desire. O Netjer, open up my heart for me that I might know it! May I perceive! May I see! May I obtain recognition!

Though this Holy of Holies is enveloped in the eternal stillness of stone, hidden doorways and sealed chambers, I perceive that the moment of the Sun’s ascendancy over the night has arrived. The horizon of the East opens to welcome the fiery countenance of the Netjer Ra, Whose eyes emit light beams of white-hot radiance. Earth will awaken. The river will dance on account of Him, reflecting in its cool depths the gold of His limbs as they slide to and fro over the currents. There will be life again in the fields of verdant splendor, alive with the cascade of warm yellow rays caressing palms and reeds and burgeoning vegetation. The mountains will absorb His presence in the Heavens, their rocky faces dancing wildly in the waves of heat cast off by the Sun’s burning form. It will all come alive again, and this place of silent majesty, unchanging in its mysteries and cool tranquility, will give birth to song that will perfume the air with its divine fragrance.

The Netjer has awoken in His House. But is He not always awake, stirring in the quiet heart that listens for His voice? Is not the Ka the true dwelling place of Netjer, though His Temple may house the artistic housing of His Ka? It is for me to find Him there, the Netjer of my Ka, Whose presence in me is the true life of my body, the immortality of my Soul; for I cannot cling to the things of this Earth, however beautiful they may be. One day I will move alone on my Ka towards the Divine Domain where hearts are judged and the container of all my deeds emptied out before the Scales of the Divine Law. How will I find my way along that dark river of the Duwat? How will I find my way upon the Earth before I must find my way over the Earth beyond? I must regard my heart, trust my heart, petition my heart to be good to me, to fill my actions with justice. I must petition the Netjer of my Ka to come forth and shield my heart from depravity, to open my eyes with the discernment of Wisdom. Shall I ask you, O Sia, to charge my heart with eyes to comprehend the Knowledge of the Gods, to see the Heavens and the Earth as they are, to know the true names, the Nutjers, of all things?

“First embrace me”, the voice of the Netjer rings out from the splendid home of His shrine. “Welcome the day by welcoming my Ka into the heart of this Temple. This Temple is the heart where Creation is sparked, where new life springs forth like a stalk of wheat! My flame is the Sa of action known to all men, the desire to bring light into a dark place, the will to flourish even in the midst of dissolution. Light a fire in my presence when dawn’s fragile light first breaks over the horizon. This honors me, but it truly honors the Spirit of Creation present in all that lives. It speaks of solidarity with the coming into being of beingness itself. To light a fire is to invoke the presence of life’s beginnings, as the fire of seed, born of passion, invokes life and manifests Sa.

Bring incense, the divine fragrance, for the satisfaction of my Ka, for all sweet and beautiful things are the substance upon which I feed. I breathe Ma’at like the blossom of a lotus held to my nostrils, for She is the harmony of all created things functioning in their place, evolving coherently as compliments. Waft this fragrance before me as the pure offering of your heart, inhaling Truth, inhaling goodness. Bring fresh water and place it at my feet as a symbol of your purity, for the pure heart is my dwelling place and the vessel in which my Ka is submerged. Be submerged in purity and you will be submerged in me. Begin anew every day, casting off the fetters of yesterday, renouncing any ill that may be upon your heart, and cease to transgress on this new day that has been created for you and gifted to all living things. Cease to do ill and accomplish what is excellent in the manner of a just heart, a heart filled with nobility, a heart imbued with the Spirit of the Divine Ka.

Why else would you plunge in the Lake of Purification? Why else would you pour out water before me and light a fire in my House, if not to recreate the first day when all was new and untainted and filled with promise? This I bestow to you, my son, that you will go forward from this day at peace with your heart and in the embrace of the Netjer of your Ka. Create with me by creating this Temple as the manifestation of your heart. Continue the work of Creation by lighting a flame for the work of your Ka in this world. Such works as those completed by the Ka are eternal, and never suffer the way of death or diminishment. All good and pure works are embodiments of the first creative act, the act of transmitting the Sa, the Fluid of Life, for the benefit of all beings. To push back chaos, to embrace the Order of Creation through Ma’at, through Supreme Truth, is the eternal flame of my Temple, and to keep it is to keep Creation pure and sacred, to honor the finest qualities of the heart in men. Come forth and embrace me! Receive the Sa from which your Ka will flourish forever!”

Sa a’ah! The Ka of the Netjer Menu (Min) is manifest from His Divine House, the Mansion of the Great Leopard, the Celestial House in which dwell the Gods of the Heavens and the Earth. Surrounding Him on all sides are bolts of pure white light, and the aura rising up from His head is the green of real malachite. A fragrance of sandalwood is emitted by His presence, imbuing the air around Him with peace and beauty. His skin is black, both absorbing and manifesting translucent beams of light. His countenance is more beautiful than any Earthly man, though His endowments are those of all men. Shining perpetually, His body is unclothed, garbed only by the brightness of the Sun’s light. Manifesting the ardor of Creation and desire, the Netjer’s massive organ of love is swollen with seed in the throes of perpetual ecstasy. With His left fist He tightly grasps His throbbing organ, while His right arm is raised at His side in the gesture of protection.

With His right arm He supports the standard of the nekhakha, the flail of power and victory, the scepter for sweeping away all obstacles and chaos. Gold and real lapis lazuli grace His sturdy neck, the compliment of a thick, well-muscled body from whose sinews the aura of strength and valor proceeds. His firm chin is ornamented with the long and braided beard of all father gods, the repository of creative power. Neb Menu’s brow is crowned with the golden helmet and twin plumes that are His insignia, stretching regal and erect into the illumination above Him, quivering slightly with the elegant movements of His head.

The Great Leopard moves forward to meet my trembling obeisance, yet something in the calm pools of His dark green eyes stills the fear and awe in my heart, and lifts my Ka into the raptures of love. I am captured by Him, and His fragrance moves through me. The ocean of my heart is calm around me, reflecting the luminescence of His limbs, the rays of real turquoise and lapis cascading from His firm body. The Earth halts to receive the message of Heaven, as this Temple of mine is elevated into intoxication. My breath slows, my heart beats softly in my ears, and all at once I am filled by the moment of His Ka infusing my flesh with the Essence.

Sa Netjer. Sa ankh. Sa uwdj. First I am filled with white light, the incarnation of the Divine Sa. I am embraced by the hand of the God, receiving His Essence, shinning with the shield of His illumination, safeguarded from dissolution and fear. No ill can touch me as I walk upon the path now open before my feet. I cannot be taken in by darkness, nor can death destroy my Ka! I am empowered with the Essence of the Netjer and moved forward by its light. I am as the indestructible Stars!

Now I am granted the Nectar of Life in the manifestation of golden light, pouring into my nostrils, passing through my lips and quenching my throat, anointing my Ka with the everlasting life of Truth and Wisdom. I need not fear death, nor shall death claim me forever! My Ka shall rise to take its place with the Beings of Light Who reside with the Netjer, imbued with His indestructibility. I am claimed by life and will not stray from it forever! I am watered by the light of the Netjer’s Ka, and cannot be separated from It for eternity!

What comes to me now is the green fire of rebirth, blossoming from a stalk of papyrus, growing upwards from the feet of the God to wrap its vitality around my flesh. I am infused with new life as a gift from the Netjer. I cannot be cut back by the pitfalls of the Earth, nor ensnared by the jaws of weakness, terror or sin! My vibrancy is the vibrancy of the green Wedjat Eye, wholesome against all defilements! Everything touched by my heart shall flourish as a thing good and pure in the name of Ma’at. I cannot be cut down. My growth cannot be hindered forever!

The hand of Neb Menu cradles the nape of my neck, proffering divine shelter, allaying fear and granting love. His tenderness passes into me. The chambers of my heart are expanded, prepared to receive the breath of the Divine Ka. My lips part as His breath enters my mouth and nostrils in a stream of luminescent white light, His lips touching mine, the warmth of His body enveloping me like a flame. I am at once poured into Him, like water emptied out from an overflowing river. My lungs are charged with His breath, my heart submerged and quieted, my breath revivified.

I have been transformed into the God, my heart whispers to me, and the God has been transformed into me. I am as this Spirit of Creation ascending to the celestial ladder. I have removed my Earth and joined the Company of Spirits. I have gone down through the Primordial Waters and been raised up by the hand of the Air. Shuw is with me! Tefnuwt bestows to me Her breath of fire, and I am unhindered in my progress to the Imperishable Stars! What fetters can hold me? What hand can pull me back when I am imbued with the Savor of the Netjer, Lord of the Shining Standard!

O Spiritualized One, hear me! Take me down this road of yours called Ma’at, this lotus held at the nostrils of Ra. Articulate my feet that they might walk upon the proper course, steered by the Power of the God, His Sa from His body. I am the son of the Great Leopard, Keeper of the Celestial Temple, and I have received initiation in the House of the God. His anointment was bestowed to me, His words inscribed upon my heart, and I go forward as a vessel at the direction of Ma’at, firm on my course, infused with Wisdom from the mouth of the God.

I listen in silence. I progress in peace. I repel strife, greed, hatred and destruction! What I create is Creation, being the Essence of the All, Neb-Ra-Djar, the encompassment of all that is. I do not kill, I do not dismantle Creation, and I do not renounce the Netjer of my heart, the life of my Ka. I am filled with the Waters of Life, quenched in the Pool of Creation, and fed by the tree upon which Wisdom grows. My name is inscribed in the Book of the Netjer, and His Divine House opened before me. Where my heart remains known to me, there too shall dwell the Netjer my Lord. I go forth in peace, the way made free upon the approach of my feet.

The Temple now stirs with the swift approach of a new day, while the seclusion of the Sanctuary falls as calm as it was before the presence and voice of the God threw it into sudden and vibrant life. Ra has now emerged with His full glory in the reaches beyond, possessing an azure sky, welcomed home by a joyous chorus of birdsong. Will all be as it was before? Will I trek into the open day to find all as I had left it, confused and swarming with troubles that could find no solutions? What will my life be beyond the shining majesty of the God’s House, His Temple?

Or, can I remember in the world beyond that it is the heart that serves as the true dwelling place of the Divine Ka? Whatever else may be dedicated to His name, however glorious, however beautiful, it is the vessel of the heart that carries Him as the Mansion of the Spirit. I am at a loss for words, not knowing how to think or feel, and my calm body yearns for the welcome relief of sleep. But it is time for you to wake up, yells my heart. It is time for you to walk with both your eyes wide open! There is no time for sleep when the path of knowledge awaits, and a lifetime is piteously short! Remember to know me. Remember to keep me open, always. Remember to embrace your Netjer as the Sa of your own heart, and all your deeds will be worthy of your Higher Ka!

I bow my head to the Netjer in my heart, letting my breath settle, my heart grow silent again. What need have I of this thing around my neck, I ask myself as I am suddenly aware of the rolled and bound shelter hanging about me. Why should I put faith in such things, when my true shelter, my true protector is the unseen shield beating within my flesh? There lies my protection or my downfall, and all other things I should gratefully give back to the Netjer Who lights my way; for only in knowing gratitude can I truly give gratitude.

First I must feel it within my Self, and use its luminosity as a torch of generosity for others. I should give the contents of my heart to others through the act of giving itself, without expectation of a thing in return. Is this not the perfection of love, of all Truth, of the path of initiation woven by the Mysteries of the Netjeru? Are not the Netjeru manifest in the Kas of all living things, fed by the Sa from which Creation is conceived. In this I have found my purpose, and thankfully pour my heart out in the presence of my own Wisdom.

Bending down before the shrine of the Netjer, I lay my shelter as a token of my heart for all that has been so generously given. This is my Sa, my Essence, the life in my Spirit, and to that which fashioned it, I give it back without attachment. Such is the greatest gift I could give. Such is the greatest gift I could receive.

All text copyright  ©  2006, 2015 Rev. Ptahmassu K.M. Nofra-Uaa

Oracle of Mother Muwt: “Navigation Over Isheru”

O how sweet is twilight, that moment of Becoming, when shadows quicken and humankind slumbers, when the fire-orange expanse of Heaven is transformed into scintillating lapis- one moment bright, and the next a blanket of purple blue strewn with flecks of pure gold. Gone is the dazzling turquoise of midday…gone are the swallows darting hither and thither between rustling date palms dappled with the flaxen kiss of Ra. The Sun-God has abandoned His jewel on Earth, and creeping creatures bed down in thickets of papyrus, swaying softly to the serenade of crickets.

The Foremost Sanctuary of Amun casts its spell across a land dominated by stone giants, whose massive bodies bear silent witness to the passage of ages, where priests fumigate the air with myrrh, and sandalwood enchants the hot breezes rushing in from the south. White South, the Kingdom of the Lotus-Lily, the breath of the Eye of Ra, the dangerous and violent temper of the celestial vault’s Great King.

Isheru, O beautiful Isheru! How perfect are your banks, how bold the colors of the sky painted delicately across your lens of pure water. Isheru, in whose reflection the stars in their glory shine. Isheru, where noble Amun becomes the Bull of His Mother, and Khensu-Neferhotep is born! Homage to You, O glorious Isheru, the birthplace of the Lotus-Born, the falcon of crescent and disk, upon whose brow radiates the diadem of Heaven!

Perfect peace, the banks of Isheru the Lake of Profundities. The night sky heaves a sigh of relief as almighty Ra plunges beneath the deep dark waters, and at once all is still. A canopy of stars emerges that can be read like a map. Sah-Orion takes His place above Amun-Ra’s House, where the Ram reclines, enticing the heavenly travelers to pay homage to the King of the Gods. The chanting of priests diminishes, and the crash of a priestesses’ sacred rattle brings the sacred activities of the day to a profound close.

To the South of the Finest Harem of Amun glitters in silver light the crescent-shaped waters of Isheru, which my mind’s eye forms perfectly well even in the utter darkness of night’s thick cover. Fear flutters within my heart, but for a moment, as I enter the Domain of Mother Mut, the Lioness Who has been known to taste of blood and find contentment in rage.

I pour out an offering of fine red beer to You, O fiery Mut, the Lady of Isheru, the Queen of Your Sanctuary in the South! Amun the Lord of the Thrones of the Two Lands comes to embrace You, as I come to embrace You…as all living things embrace You! O Mut the lofty of crown and regal of headdress, Whose coronet is the vulture and Whose diadem is the cobra.

Homage to You, Mut the Divine Mother!
Homage to You, Mut the Beloved of Amun-Ra!
Homage to You, Mut the Queen of the Gods!
Homage to You, Mut the Mother of Khensu-Neferhotep!
Homage to You, Mut the Eye of Ra!
Homage to You, Mut-Bastet, the Great and feared Goddess!
Homage to You, Mut the Lioness of the South!

I pour out an offering of the finest red beer in the presence of the Goddess Mut, and before Her two feet I kneel in awe, where fools fear to tread, but wise men come to be reborn through the blood of the Goddess. It is well known that great Amun-Ra, the King of the holiest of holies in Waset, traverses the miles of courtyards and sanctuaries simply to bask in the passionate embrace of the Goddess…even She Whose flaming temper transforms cool water into hot blood…who quickens the pulse and can even stop a heart.

I come to this place of the Navigation, alone and to ponder the meaning of my inner Mysteries, where the Goddess makes Herself known as vulture and lioness, Eye of the Sun and Cobra of the Sun-God’s brow. Her countenance may be terrible, even as is the fear of death, but how lovely to gaze upon Her refined curves, swaying in the moon’s alabaster light and beneath the vault of heaven’s jealous gaze.

Blue-black is the hair of my Goddess, cascading down to Her smooth shoulders in two lappets capped with rosy gold. How beautiful Her gown, woven of gold feathers and enhanced with a girdle of coppery pleats. How shining white is the Southern Crown upon Her head, and beneath it the fan of vulture’s wings and talons, whose lethal grasp firmly holds the gems of Eternity, winking in the pale light of the moon.

Is it a lion’s hot breath I feel upon my face, or the cool brush of a vulture’s wing? Is my Goddess fair or frightening…pleased or passionate…content or ready for war? Behind Her majestic presence I hear the churning of the Lake of Isheru, into whose depths so many men have gazed and been drawn, where kings have offered all that they had…where armies have prayed for victory and priests for prosperity. But the time for simple prayers has come to an end, and my offering provokes its Mistress to come forth and grant Her boons. I have asked for answers, and the Queen of Isheru has opened Her leonine mouth in a manner of answer!

These are the words of Mut the Great, the Mistress of Isheru: Come, O you kings of the Earth, and listen! Come, O you rulers of the North and South, and hear the pronouncements of the Most Ancient One, Who came before you, Who heralded the dawn with Her roars and made great the flood at the time of the First Occasion!

I was with Ra on that day of the splitting open of the Ished Tree in Annu, when the enemies of the Sun-God were torn and Apep severed. I have swallowed darkness, and I have eaten death, and the Primordial Gods feared me in this my name of Mother, Death…Mother, Death. For I alone am your beginning and your end, and within my body do all things that live gain their first beginning, and achieve their last end.

Yet I have drawn forth the infant Sun from my thighs, and I have conceived from a bull and made of Him my Lotus-Born Son. I have taken in Amun, in secret, in the wet lake they call Isheru, and within the crescent flood I give life to the Moon, Whose name has been called Khensu-Neferhotep!

Hush! Hush, O Child of the Secrets, and open your mouth to receive the breast of the Sun, which is hatched from the shell of a beetle and rolled across the vault to be as one with the Ark of Ra. Dutifully the Gods come at my command, for I am the ancient Generatrix, giving the Thrones of the North and South to the Greater and Lesser Companies of the Gods to rule, and it is by my will that such things were ordered as have governed time since the time of the First Occasion.

Come now, my Son, Khensu-Neferhotep, and dip Your lotus body in the waters in which Ra daily bathes…the waters in which Amun brought Himself into being, in which Atum moved His hand over His impassioned body and ejaculated the world. These are the Waters of Renewal, where a boy becomes at last a man, where a husband fathers generations, and where the dead are reborn into everlasting life. These are the waters in which a woman nourishes her child, which embrace a man when he is transformed by the senses, and which drown a seed in order that new life might burst forth!

Know then that all things were born in the depths and return to the depths, deep down into the watery abyss where the Sun had His beginnings. This is the Crescent-Place we call Isheru, which receives the gilded ship of my Becoming on the eve of the New Moon. This is the feast they call the Navigation, but it is nothing less than the navigation of humankind as a child through the womb of its Mother…the sapling’s fragile branches into the body of a great tree…the seed of a man into the lineage of his progeny.

Isheru is the womb where the kernel of potential is urged into fruition, and the process of Creation becomes a distinct reality. It is the bone that contains the marrow, drawn out from the corpses of the dead by vultures and transformed into the nectar of life. For all living things are born from death, and death is the Mother of all life.

Thus am I called Mut…“Mother”…Mut…“death”. O death, my Mother! O death, the becoming of my Ka into the greatness of the Glorified, Whose forms are boundless and Whose lights guide the way for the blind. All sight begins with darkness, into which pierces the light, giving form to form and substance to shape. Its root is darkness…emptiness…what they call the Abyss of chaos.

Go down, my child, into the Waters of the Isheru, and come up again renewed with the knowledge that comes from partaking of the Mysteries. All true knowledge comes from direct experience, and the experience of Immortality is gained through the transformations of birth and death, which are known to the Gods and to all creeping creatures beneath the Sun!

O my Mother Mut, from Whose noble breast I have suckled the wisdom of the Mysteries! Cradle my desire in Your two hands, and make of me Your Lotus-Born child, Whose countenance appears again and again in His name of Khensu-Neferhotep!

In gratitude I bestow the first fruits of the Harvest, the corn and the cornflower, the grain and the beer, the bread and the vine. I waft frankincense to Heaven and shake the Sistrum before Your face, glowing with gold and shining like turquoise.

When at long last I return to the world of the Sun, my feet have been washed clean in the Waters of Renewal, and the words of my Goddess have been inscribed upon my heart. There is no outer explanation of the Mysteries that can dispel their shadows nor express their ageless wisdom. These are held firmly in the vulture’s claws of my Mistress- the One Who is the Mistress of that Crescent-Lake called Isheru.

All text copyright © 2014 Rev. Ptahmassu Nofra-Uaa

In the Noblest of Cities: Antinous is Received in the House of Ptah

Antinous had thus far beheld the wonders of various sanctuaries and monuments- colossal statues hewn from blood-red stone that were the equal of any in Roma, the sprawling urban centers choked with imports from every corner of the earth, a harvest of gold and goldsmiths, whose crafts became the ornaments of the affluent from Roma to far more distant, barbaric lands- yet he had seen nothing that made him gasp in astonishment as did “the noblest of cities”, Memphis, and its very ancient grandeur.

Hadrian’s ship had landed at the water steps of the great southern portal of one of the several imposing palaces that fronted the Nile, scintillating in the fierce heat of the sun that seemed to shatter over everything and everyone in this most hallowed of cities. As their craft had entered the famous port of Memphis, his local guides had enticed Antinous with stories of the renowned shipyards of the God Ptah, the workshops of the goldsmith’s guilds whose handicrafts were well known in Roma, and the elephantine, fortress-like walls of the Temple of Ptah. Here were obelisks piercing the liquid azure of the afternoon sky, with their pyramidions sheathed in glowing electrum. Beyond them rose mountainous pylons, gates and royal statues that seemed to dwarf all else for miles around. It was all very enthralling. And yet Antinous had come to receive the counsel of the High Priest of Ptah, the God for whom all of these marvels had been consecrated.

What perfection was to be seen in the craft of man’s hand…enormous and yet sensual alabaster colossi, sphinxes, divine images, and every other splendid and costly thing the mind could fathom…yet it was the ancient Mysteries of Memphis that had caused mighty Hadrian to make inquiries on behalf of Antinous, whose thirst for high learning knew no bounds.

A retinue stood waiting for Antinous beneath the blessed shelter of the palace portico. Antinous approached, bowing his head, not knowing which of these distinguished foreigners was the High Priest of the God Ptah. A tall, shaven headed and linen draped man came forward, and raised his hands in the gesture of reverence.

“Welcome and blessing to you, Antinous, heart-friend of our Lord Hadrianus Caesar, who is the Lord of Crowns and ruler of the Two Lands! I am Neferkaptah, and I am the Chief of Priests of the God Ptah in the Soul-Mansion of Ptah. Is the noblest city in Egypt fulfilling your expectations and satisfying your heart?”

Antinous relaxed and smiled, noticing the kindness and curiosity evident in the faces of the other priests. “Satisfy?…why no, much more than satisfy! I am stunned by all I have seen of this city of marvels. Our guides today pointed out the endless outdoor market as we approached, which I am told is the largest in Egypt…perhaps in the whole world! There are the giant sphinxes that look like marble, but I am told they are alabaster…and the high walls of the city itself, which our guide told us are the oldest and tallest in the entire land. Alexandria is a wonder of the mind, it is true, but this, Memphis, is a wonder of the eyes!”

The High Priest smiled knowingly, waving Antinous to follow him beneath the bulk of the portico and through an imposing gate in the high wall. Everywhere he looked were to be seen sculpted and painted reliefs of the highest quality, delicately carved statues of glittering stone, columns and tiles that shined a glossy sky blue. Everything around him seemed to focus one’s attention upon the crafts of the hands…that of stone masons, goldsmiths, jewelers. Antinous was taken aback almost to the point of speechlessness, however, he was here to receive the initiations of Ptah, and to take back with him a portion of their wisdom.

“I have seen at a distance the Pyramid that our guides told us was built by Imhotep-“
“Oh, but of course, you want to hear about Imhotep!”

Antinous blushed, but Neferkaptah smiled enthusiastically. “The Holy Pyramid was constructed by an army of the finest craftsmen in Egypt in the service of King Netjerykhet, but it was Imhotep the Son of Ptah who imagined how it could be accomplished, and it was his genius that made what you have seen possible.

“Homage to You Imhotep, Son of Ptah, the Good Physician, the Kindhearted God!

“Imhotep was born to a woman named Khreduankh, whose beauty caught the eye of the God Ptah Himself, and it was from His seed that Imhotep came forth, having even at his birth the powers of a Seer together with all the knowledge of a priest of Ra. He knew the stars in their courses, and the measurements of creation, and he had the knowledge and blessedness to heal the sick and cure the diseases of the flesh. Did they point out to you the temple where the God Imhotep, as the Son of Ptah, reveals cures to the sick as they dream? Well, then perhaps you know already the fame of Imhotep throughout the known world, for not only do the people of this city and Egypt come to be healed in His shrine, but also people from across the Great Green Sea….”

“I know that the Hellenes associate Imhotep with Asklepius“, Antinous said, “and that they believe He cures barrenness and impotence, and even fatal conditions. Aren’t there miracles attributed to Imhotep during His life?”

Neferkaptah nodded. “And you saw it!…the Holy Pyramid, from which King Netjerykhet was sent aloft to the Imperishable Stars, to be the divine leader and guide of Egypt for all eternity. My son, Imhotep was an innovator, not merely an architect who followed in the footsteps of others. Memphis, Alexandria and Egypt entire is filled with scholars and architects…so many trained monkeys who mimic what they read and see in the genius of others. What Imhotep did was excel beyond the great works of his predecessors, taking the original design for the tombs of hallowed persons, and shaping it into something truly sublime. His is a miracle of the mind, the imagination, which is one of the greatest testaments to his divinity.

“Your own Hadrianus Caesar is said to be such an architect and visionary…one who takes what he has inherited and pushes it beyond what others thought possible. To exceed the limitations imposed by the lower mind, the mundane intellect…that is the course of one who has received the direct blessing of the Gods. It is that way in your Roma, and so it is that way here in my Egypt, which is the House of the God Ptah, Architect of the World!”

Antinous recalled some of the things his tutors had told him about the origins of Egypt and the Great God Ptah. “Speaking of the House of Ptah, is it not true that the Hellenes gave Egypt its name, or rather, that the name Egypt is taken from the language of the Hellenes, when they beheld the wonders of the Temple of Ptah at Memphis and recognized its universal importance?”

“That is so, my son. The Hellenes knew that the most ancient city of Memphis- which was hailed as Men-Nefer by the Ancients- was the first capital of the Egyptian state, and that it was here, in our very own Temple of Ptah, where every king that has sat upon the throne of Egypt has received the Double Crown. Aleksandras, whom they call Great, the Son of Zeus-Ammon, was crowned as Pharaoh of Egypt in the Temple of Ptah, as was your beloved Hadrianus Caesar, Lord of the Two Lands. For Ptah is the King-Maker, the Establisher of Laws, who founded the first temple in the first city of Egypt, and that city, this city, was known as Ibebu-hedj, the ‘White Walls’, where at its heart rose Hawt-ka-Ptah, ‘The Soul-Mansion of Ptah’.

“The Hellenes pronounced the name of Ptah’s holiest temple Aigyptos, and it was from their speech that the name of our Egypt came forth. And Ptah is the King of the Gods in His temple here, because it is recognized in Memphis that Ptah is the Genius from Whom speech, intellect and thought came into being. Without Him, the Hellenes, Romans, the Egyptians, and indeed the peoples of all the world would not have intellect or speech or even existence itself, for Ptah is the Great God Who gave birth to the Cosmos and all the things dwelling in it!”

Antinous and his hosts had finally arrived at the Great Temple of Ptah, which was just south of the primary enclosure of the ancient capital of Egypt. Its great white walls (from which the oldest district of ‘White Walls’ received its name) were crenelated like some military fortress, and Antinous recognized that its massive corners gave way to high watch towers that were likewise crenelated. Tall flagstaffs sheathed in gold stood proudly before soaring pylons into which were carved, in exquisite relief, images of the God Ptah receiving abundant offerings. The heady fragrance of myrrh incense rose in a palpable cloud above the entourage, and then the sound of chanting, which echoed off lofty stone ceilings.

“Hail to Ptah Who is South of His Wall, who created in the beginning in His loneliness, when there was no one beside Him. Who came into existence by Himself and fashioned in the beginning, in that neither father nor mother had made His body. The truly lone one. He who made the gods and who created, but who indeed was not created”.

Antinous braved a remark as they approached the entrance proper, the hallowed Soul-Mansion of the God Ptah. “The Hellenes know Ptah as Hephaestus, I have been told by my tutors, while my people know Him as Vulcan, and we see Him as the Wielder of the blacksmith’s hammer and fire. We know Vulcan as the creator of the blacksmith’s arts”.

“It is certainly true that the God Ptah is the divine patron of all handicrafts”, Neferkaptah answered, “…which include the arts of the forgers, goldsmiths, metal-smiths and jewelers. All of these are the products of the heart and tongue of Ptah, Who spoke them into existence, but so too are all the labors of the hands…stone masonry, sculpting, painting, architecture, mining and ship building. You have seen the famous ship yards of Memphis, which equal any in the known world, including Alexandria. Here too are the ateliers of the Temple, whose divine images in gold, precious stones and electrum are found in every temple in Egypt, and in the Royal Court.

It is known that the Servants of Ptah, that is to say His craftsmen, are among the finest in the world. They certainly have no equal in all of Egypt; for the God Ptah is not solely the patron of artisanship or craftsmanship, but rather the Progenitor of the finest quality work of which men are capable. It is excellence itself…this quality of having perfected a thing to the point where it cannot be improved upon…that is the hallmark of the God Ptah throughout creation. The very activity or attitude of striving for excellence in one’s work is the very nature of the God Ptah, Who has selected the perfect forms of all creatures and plants, given them birth through the speech of His tongue, and bestowed upon them the breath of life”.

Just then the entourage entered the sanctified outer courtyard of the Temple of Ptah, where grandiose and more humble stone images of the God Ptah stood in the presence of flaming braziers and tables choked with delicious offerings. Priests and acolytes moved to and fro with diligence, trimming wicks and lighting lamps, and dropping pellets of myrrh over the hot coals of the braziers. A presence of devotion and solitude pervaded the atmosphere, which spoke to the heart of Antinous of the first-fruits of the human heart.

“Is love part of the creation offered by the Great Ptah to His servants upon the earth?”, Antinous queried, his heart fluttering with admiration for the beauty and harmony of the images surrounding him.

Neferkaptah placed a warm hand on Antinous’ bare shoulder. “In our ancient teaching- which comes from the time when the Holy Pyramid was envisioned by Imhotep- it is said that the God Ptah thought the names of every thing to be created within His heart, which was then repeated by His tongue, and that it was through this divine miracle that all created things came into being.

“The heart and the tongue are the two instruments by which Ptah the very Great God brought out His vision for the created world, thus making it a reality. It is the heart that is the mind of all creatures in the world, for the heart speaks and the limbs obey. And when the tongue repeats what the heart has engendered, then life proceeds…activity shapes progress, and events unfold. This is the handiwork of Ptah, Who gave form to the heart that it might direct the limbs and the passions.

“But know too that Ptah is called the King of the Gods not merely because of His creative power, which makes kings in the world of men, but because He created the Gods. It was the desire, the passion…the love of Ptah that made the Souls of all the Gods, and determined that they should come to rest in their statues of stone and wood and metal, and it was Ptah Who ordained the cults of all the Gods, Their temples and worship, so that the Gods could receive the first-fruits of the earth from humankind. But also, it was through the love of Ptah that the Gods should receive the offerings of humankind, and intervene on their behalf, for men and women, together with all the creeping creatures of the earth, are the handiwork of Ptah’s heart and tongue. We, Antinous…you and I and revered Hadrianus Caesar, are the thoughts of Ptah’s passion, and the desires of His heart, and the fruit of His tongue…and so it shall always be!”

Antinous was filled with awe and humility in the presence of such a teaching, which inspired within his own heart the desire to receive the Mysteries of Ptah more fully and deeply. And so Antinous followed Neferkaptah into the dim inner court of the Temple of Ptah, and there received an answer from the very Great God Ptah.

All text copyright © 2015 Rev. Ptahmassu Nofra-Uaa