And the Autumn Moon is Waning

So blind! So blind!

We rush toward our own destruction

Laughing…

Underneath a waning Autumn moon I look up into the clear night sky, contemplating how the heavens never seem to change with the burning winds of history.

The howling gods of war may let a million pints of blood upon the ground and bury a thousand hapless souls at sea, yet the stars still shine — warm, bright spots against the cold, enveloping darkness — so impersonal, so eternal.

The pendulum of Fate swings in our world from triumph to tragedy. This is our lot. We are born, we die; we laugh, we cry; we believe, we doubt; we love, we hate; we fight, we surrender — the tidal flow, never ceasing.

Like the moon, we are here in the fullness of mysterious beauty and then we are seen no more. Another glimmering orb rises above the night horizon to take our place. And how else should it be? We were never meant forever, yet life lives on like so many lights in the dark vault of heaven.

We have been given so little time. Our life is like one lunar cycle against the backdrop of an infinite universe with no beginning, no end. Yet for a space we cast a pale beam upon our world to quietly illumine what would otherwise be hidden beneath a cloak pitch black, to whisper secrets otherwise buried in graves of blindness.

For a little while we tell our story to other children of the night as we circle round the earth. We will not always speak, just as the moon not always shines, for our life is but thievery, just as the moon steals her light from the sun.

Like so many stars in the cold, night sky we await the day under a canopy of darkness. In a world tossed about like chaff in the wind — always changing yet remaining so much the same — we come and we go and we spend our moments in earnest for a never-dying fire, an eternal dawning, a never-ending beginning.

But now it is night, and it is cold … and the Autumn moon is waning. 

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Note: The above is years old and I’ve forgotten how many years — only guessing it was penned sometime during 2010 – 2012 — but I believe it is not only seasonally appropriate but at least somewhat applicable to recent horrific events as our world seems gripped now in fear…

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Maftet: Lessons Along the Nile, Part II

Maftet did not insist, nor did I resist, as we walked down into the Nile, under the Nile. Shadowy milk-water, silk enveloping my body; my mind swirling, soul churning. I could breath beneath the stream like some mystical dream, and from there I was carried, not buried, to another place in time and space. The world was new as we flew back up onto the river bank and sank our toes in tall, lush grass; the Nile now shone like sparkling glass just poured from heaven to leaven the earth newly birthed, yet I had not to be told this place, still new with morning dew, was old but not worn or torn.

Maftet pointed toward garden grand — the Garden of God, I knew — made to stand forever and ne’er one celestial strand to be undone. And there, too, was the man, tall and beautifully tan, walking naked without shame, for there was no one to blame, and instantly I knew his name: “Adama.” Maftet nodded. And all the trees and leaves, bees and flowery marquee towering, overpowering enchanting entrance into Paradise, this slice of heaven on earth made to give mirth to both in safe, luxurious catacomb called home.

Whisper breeze carried Voice across choice meadow into the man’s ear to hear. “This all is yours, and fruit for good food, but be astute, ever acute and take care not to tear from the Tree you see of Knowing growing in middle of Garden fine, what flows with such sweet wine, for in the event you snatch potent fruit so cogent to overwhelm this entire realm will be the helm-blow of your death. Tis not for you, man of earth; t’would be your everlasting dearth, but see! I’ll give you one like me — like you, to be yardımcı-ezer — strong and true, lifelong companion to see you through and subdue the wild to render mild. Ah! She is here, your separate self, your better part, torn from your heart, but God gives you new start … as one again to begin again.”

Maftet then pointed to woman anointed with beauty ravishing, lavishing Garden with song so strong and melodic, hypnotic, and instantly I knew who she was: Havva (the one some call Eva.) “So there she is so near the Tree to see how luscious , precious, and wondrous. And will she tempt in contempt of divine decree…?” With no glee nor plea, Maftet silenced my foolish spree. And I noticed mordant serpent twisted round trunk, nearly sunk into bark crevices unseen to scheme his sinister plan to destroy the human clan as Havva approached without reproach to take of mystic produce to suck sweet juice with no abuse, but there was Adama, too, so obtuse.

“Listen! Closely listen!” Maftet insisted, and the serpent spoke to Havva: “Look at the fruit, how delightful, yet has Dyēus told you not to eat such divine treat?” Havva smiled and answered, “No. Dyēus has told Adama not to eat of the Tree, lest he no longer be free; to me Dyēus has said nothing of the kind, and I am not blind.” But wiles were hidden behind serpent smiles, and he answered, “Dyēus knows that when you both eat, you will take your seat among the gods, and with feet will trod the sky so high and heaven so nigh. So why deny your mate to satiate burning hunger for learning instead of churning in soul with gaping hole?”

“I don’t understand,” not muzzling my puzzlement. “Did not God command both to steer clear of tree and ne’er to pluck fruit to suit desire for higher state in defiance of Dyēus?”

“No! Do you not hear what is so clear? Listen and understand ere I reprimand what your foolishness demands.” Maftet held me square and froze me with glare. “I am not you, and you are not me; that much you see, but you and I are we. So I may freely dip, while you may not so much as sip; thus, I may do this while you’re held at bay. Ah! Simple child, Dyēus forbid Adama to eat of this fruit to suit his own raving craving, not Havva, which is why she said, ‘We may not eat; such must be as God does see.’ But it was on that fateful day that Havva gave way to compassion and passion of love, and gave precious fruit to the knave she was meant to succor and save… And the whole cosmos could hear Dyēus crying, and Ma’at raging at the lying ddiafol, desperately trying to forestall the inevitable fall … but the wall arose, and division has been the dæmonic derision of humanity sunk into insanity ever since. And now for ages pages have been written, and prayers have ascended with incense, as the three-mothers rinse away with rain the stain of Şeytan, to regain humanity into unity with complete immunity as it was in the beginning.”

At this I wept and slept on crest of her breast. Is there, then, any hope as we grope through this world, trying to cope with endless, primeval evil? Whisper in dream seemed softly to reply, “One grand try … Dyēus … one and only one Son … birth on earth … hell to fell…” Buckled into Maftet, instinctively I suckled rich flow, pressed against blessed breast, in nest of arms and legs and safe from harm and all alarm.

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Yardımcı-Ezer — Turkish/Hebrew combination translated “help;” however, ezer is used to describe God, the Everlasting One, and only otherwise uniquely applied to Havva (or Eva, Eve)

For other meanings of names and terms, refer to Part I

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Note: Image from http://www.devids.net

Maftet: Lessons Along the Nile

“Dyēus alone plumed from his womb three daughters without mater,” Maftet slowly blinked, smiled and winked. “There names are Sélená and Cybele and Kheba, treble sisters terrible in power, but kindly enough to those who properly cower.” She looked reminiscing at the water, remembering the deadly slaughter of arrogant men full of prideful sin, and the escape of slaves to take new shape as more than sheep, to their own kingdom-keep.

“And they loved each other, and so others were born to adorn earth and sky, and leaven heaven with music bright and fair, through light and night, and never to care; they breathed pure air as they offered prayer to the three maters, daughters of Dyēus,” she shook her hair freely with look of radiance, and her fragrance intoxicating weakened me to fall into open arms to keep me from harm; so strong where I belong… I always had, and no more sad. She laughed.

“Ma’at was ne’er born, really, but torn forlorn from father’s heart to play her part as defender of truth, lender of wisdom, mender of foul schism warped through prism of Amheh, putrid hiss of the bottomless Abyss.” Her face glistened, eyes christened with crystal as I listened. “And so she it is who like great eagle high flies through the world of humanity, to look upon their insanity and puffed up vanity. And do you wonder why she tries to silence the lies and wicked cries of Şeytan flowing out from dæmonic Forest of Platan? You see what you’ve become as the children of God succumb to vile ddiafol, and march to drum of the scum!”

Crocodile in the Nile. Standard bearer of terror. Maftet laughed again as I began to shake and quake. “Have no fear, my dear; that’s only Sobki looking for his dinner, but he usually eats only the sinner.” More laughter. With wave of hand, she told him to behave and crave no meal here, nor try to steal her prized possession, which I surmised was me, which every open eye could see! I said nothing, though blushing at her stunning claim… It was true, though, and I knew.

“You see, my lovely little bumble-bee, when humanity was just begun you were one, and all was gay and fun; no foul play and nothing to shun, except the cunning Şeytan.”

The guile of the Nile was sweet, mystical ambrosia to my spirit. I replied in far-off, soft tone. “Yes … united in harmony, not blighted by blood and love in flood of peace…”

“More than this,” Maftet said as she led me down into the stream of numinous dream-cream with intoxicating steam rising into my nostrils and I so docile. “Before Havva and Adama there were the Binabae-Аралас, reflections of perfection, before Şeytan divided one and guided the now two differentiated and inebriated into drunken conflict that would afflict humanity from that day forth, and convict in sin that grew and festered, accrued and sequestered one from another — sister from brother, father from mother. And with murderous-skilled hands they killed the Binabae-Аралас; though few remain, tis true.”

“I don’t understand.”

Maftet turned on me fierce and pierced me with her eyes. “Dull-wit! Sit!” In the water? “Yes! I should strip you and beat you, whip you and treat you to Sobki! Have you been listening to what I’ve said, or is your head so thick as a brick! Little man, I’ll take a rattan to your naked ass for being so crass!” Her chest heaved as she deeply breathed; let go the phage of her rage. “Oh, but how would you know, and so slow to learn when you burn in your loins that adjoin to mind so blind? This is what happened when Havva was torn from Adama. Ah! But the ddiafol could not control the souls…” Maftet ran fingers through my hair to repair feelings peeling away in fright by sight of angry goddess. “But you have such a tender gender; don’t you see? Haven’t you always known deep down, to marrow and bone?”

Without being told, I made bold to touch strong, soft arm even risking harm … but Maftet gave no reason for alarm. “And so ever since that fateful day we’ve been trying to make our way to bring back together what was cut asunder?”

“Yes and no, which is why I’ve told you of Ma’at so bold; you’ve been sold the lie that adherence must be made to outward appearance lest incoherence cause an attrition of tradition holy and righteous, priceless in rightness. And all of this in plain sight of the blight of oppression and repression, degradation and humiliation, aggression and aberration. Tell me, my little pea, can two of the same love one another without any blame? It is the soul of another that fills the hole in one’s own dearest spirit. And why not? This is the mimic of the timeless limerick of Sélená and Cybele and Kheba, what first burst forth from the bowels of father Dyēus… Remember, I said he alone plumed from his womb three daughters without mater.”

“And so what of me, now that you’ve snatched me from Bubastis and hatched such truth in the bed of my head; what now as before you I bow?” More laughter after stroking my cheek so sleek with dewdrops from eyes unwise. Would she now baptize me in the Nile beneath her radiant smile? Drum beat of my heart left me numb and dumb, with her thumb pressed at base of my neck; what would I now become?

“Wait, my dove; I’ve claimed you, not blamed you.” With arm round waist, she made no haste to led me deep into the keep of the ancient Nile, and as she lead said, “Come; there is more to show, for you to know; truth kept below by the foe of humanity driven to insanity. Come…”

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Dyēus — Sky father, or shining father; believed to be the chief deity in henotheistic Indo-European societies

Şeytan — Satan; devil

Ddiafol — Devil

Maftet — Deification of legal justice; consort of Ma’at

Ma’at — Deified concept of truth, balance, order, law, morality, and justice

Sélená and Cybele and Kheba — Three great ancient goddesses here recast as intimate sister-companions and daughters of Dyēus

Binabae-Аралас — Two combined words used to cast an ancient, pre-historic race of homo hermaphroditus (intersexual)

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Note: Image of triple-goddess from http://www.pinterest.com