A FIRE MANTRAM
The point of light within the glowing arc, O Pilgrim
on the Way, waxes and wanes as application hard or not betrays the purpose
within the heart.
That point is ever there, unnoticed and unseen. Dark
is the night and drear, and sore the heart of the unilluminated Pilgrim. Dark
is the night but drearness is not felt when within the gloomy portal is seen
the bright illusive light, the light that flickers ever on ahead, enticing with
its gleam the Pilgrim ever onward.
Six times the light may wax and wane, six times the
glow is felt, but at the seventh glowing hour the Flame bursts forth.
Six times the Flame bursts forth, six times the
burning starts, but at the seventh hour the altar is lost sight of and only
Flame is seen.
Six times the circle of the burning fire, six times
the roaring furnace burns and separates, but at the seventh naught is left save
the ascending Flame, that mounts to the Triadal Spirit.
Six times the Flame mounts up, six times the cloud
recedes, but at the seventh naught is seen save everlasting fire.
Six times the flames absorbs the water, six times the
moisture disappears, but at the seventh great absorption naught is left save
iridescent fire.
Three times the fire envelops, three times the sun
recedes; at time the fourth the work is done, and naught is left save Flame
primordial. That Flame absorbs, revolves, receives, and remains. When all that
is has traversed the Flame, then Time is not. (R+I: 769)
Festival
for the New Group of World Servers - Hellas
Δεν υπάρχουν σχόλια:
Δημοσίευση σχολίου