LITANY TO NEBT-HET
From above she is not bright.
From below she is not dark.
She is the mystery within mystery unfathomable,
in who fear and death are naught.
Dawn of eternal day,
Twilight of unending night.
Imageless form of the abyss,
that dreams itself into nonbeing.
Soundless voice of the infinite,
Whose cry is echoed in the thoughts of sentient beings:
I love, I will, I am, I become !
In her sweet caress I cease to be:
My body is of dry dust,
scattered on the 4 winds of sensation.
My heart is a ember,
quenched in the seas of time.
My mind is of still waters,
mirroring the motions of the heavens.
My spirit is a wick of flame,
flickering in an unending void of night.
The Goddess is at one.
I, we, she, they, exist in the perpetual now:
That emptiness poised between the first and second moment,
adinfinitum.
I am the wind swept heights,
and the mountain is in us and we are naught.
I am the verdant green,
and the valley is in us and we are naught.
I am the sea bound river,
and the river in us and we are naught.
I am the oceans' dark depths,
and the primal mother is in us and we are naught.
I am the light of the stars:
those souls passed on and yet to be born,
and they are in us and we are naught.
I am the eternal day and the unending night:
and we are one, and we are naught.
RETURN TO HOME PAGE
KNOW THY SELF