Heaven daily goes about the task of sustaining Earth, she is never neglected. Therefore, take an example from the greater sphere of life, sustain and cherish your wife, that she never be neglected. He who sows seeds of discontent before his hearth reaps a full harvest of misery. Thus it is written by the Wise One in olden times, even so it is now and will always be.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
THE LAMENT OF NEFATARI
They have placed my dear lord in the engulfing tomb, they have laid him to rest in eternal secure silence. We depart, we journey home but home is no more, it is rent apart and a place of dull shadows. Some with me are silent and solemn, some are weeping, some make show of weeping. Some suffer silently, some talk idly, some mask their sorrow with false mirth. It is a time of solitary heart pain.
Some say it is finished and others that he sails the sky, but I ask my soul and it says this is not the end. It is not finished, this is the beginning, which all loving things must know as they awake to a new dawn. The years of earthly instruction are left behind, the last lesson is read, the pupil has departed to take up his appointed task. He has been bom to life, and death has been left behind. There are no dead, just the departed living, death alone occupies the silent tomb. Death is a pause at the beginning of hfe, a hesitation before the light of a greater day.
Death is a deceiver, a nonexistent thing of the shadows. From the creeping caterpillar comes the light-loving butterfly, and from the hard grain the full blooming barley. Who, looking at the date stone, can see therein the tree to be? Search the seed and the plant is nowhere to be found. Even so is it with the spirit. I trust in He who gave us life and love, but I suffer because of my loss. I am alone. Where is my lord, the one I loved, the sharer in my cup ofjoyfulness? Where is the caressing hand, the touch that soothed, the voice that strengthened my heart in times of distress, the consoling counsel, the quiet laugh that dispelled God-given hurt? Though he has gone to glory, yet my heart shrinks, aching with solitary grief.
I will keep him, that he wander not in the darkness; for he has been loved and cannot be alone for evermore. I will keep him, that he be not despaired and condemned to walk with himself; for he is a man who has loved beyond himself.
He has stepped from his body as one steps from a mantle. He has left it as one leaves a discarded garment. His future is in my hands and I shall live in such wise that none can deny our reunion. There is a subtle something, I know that, that ties us together still. May I be given strength never to break the loving link which comforts me through the long night and sorrowful days.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
THE SCROLL OF HERAKAT
Great God of Wisdom, help me in my transcription of these writings, that they may be a true record; for I am not learned in letters, as was Sopher. I am unskilled even as a scribe.
Man is a battleground, he is torn apart in the struggle between his two selves. He dwells in the dark night of ignorance.
From Ramakui of the seven cities, Land of Copper, came the People of the Light and they brought with them, out of their transparent temples, the light that shines, when darkness falls, without being lit. Led by the Old Bald-Headed One, he whose name is not spoken, they came out of the West at the sunsetting. They came from the place where now the sun goes down; in the days when the Western wilderness was green and sand had not replaced the waters; when the outlands nourished cattle and sheep fed where now there is nought but rock and stone. The Tirdinians welcomed them not, but they passed safely through the westward places to the land of Ansibyah, and were succoured and fed. They brought to the people many things, for wise they were and learned. They were men of wisdom.
Truth is not for the multitude, dirty hands despoil fine linen. The high born have their estates and the lowly ones have their appointed places. Truth is not sold in the marketplace, nor can riches alone obtain it. Few entered the great chambers to die and to live. The temples were fine shells, but the kernel was dead inside. Men lacked the foods of life.
The True God was guarded and hidden by the false gods. He spoke in the hearts of the wise, but the people heard the voice in the stone. Their ears were closed to all but the voices of men. Small places there were in olden times for all gods, the pillars were not yet stood up. The stones were not yet in their places and the House of Hidden Secrets was not yet in the land.
Then temples were built in splendour and priests were comforted in mansions. Great gardens and fields were the property of the gods of men. They had great herds of cattle in their pastures. Within the worship and ritual, amid the pomp enshrining the little gods, shone the light of Truth which was the revelation of The True God. It was known to few and fewer understood it.
Seven years men being chosen waited and were called. Seven years they served and seven years they ministered at the feet of their Masters of Instruction. They were passed into bleak caverns to die and know God, and called forth with the sure knowledge of Truth. Thus, men were made servants of The One True God. Thus, they knew the Truth which may not be written, for many read who are not with us in God.
There were writings which speak truly, but they are no longer with us. The Arisen Ones know the secrets of the lesser gods who are no more than these. The Great Scales weigh the soul by its appearance in the Netherworld, and this its place is appointed. Its virtues from its food, but no man eats the filth that is his. He who devours souls is but the dark cave of horror which opens to receive dark souls into affinitive darkness. The Rakima watches in silence; patiently it sits, waiting for the day of the Destroyer. It will come in a hundred generations, as is written in the Great Vault.
All men are not equal in heart and spirit. Is the Southern Man learned, or the Ambric Man brave? The Land of Incense bestows all good things upon its inhabitants, yet they are not great. The Land of Bright Waters raises nothing but trees and grass, yet its people are strong and the lion does not equal them in courage. Above are the waters of Heaven and below are the waters of the Dark Region, yet there are not two waters but one. There is the fire above and the fire below, yet there are not two fires but one. The Lady of Ladies is arrayed in a radiant garment, when it dims the great trial begins. Her footsteps do not waver, her path is straight, but beware when she wavers and is inconsistent.
Great Mistress of the Stars, let us abide in peace, for we fear the revelation of your horns. Remain ever constant as a good wife to the Lord of the Day. When women are as men and inconsistent as women, the hour approaches when the Great Lady will wander. When man and woman meet as one in likeness, the Fiery Heralds will appear in the darkness of the sky vault.
Man twirls the drill in his hand; he is the master of fire, but the day comes when fire will leap forth from the heart of the stone and consume him. Men read the Great Book of the Master of the Hidden Temple. They die and take it with them, but there is no power in their words, and who but we, the Enlightened Ones, know the hidden meanings? It is not for those dead to the Earth, who step forth in the Netherworld, but for those who died and remain with us.
Men make offerings for their fathers after the custom of their fathers. The motions are those of their fathers’ fathers’ fathers, but their hearts remain locked. It is foolishness.
In the First Book it is written: “Words that do not produce deeds are as thistledown on the wind. They were better never uttered”.