Becoming the Child
In the sea foam, in the swirlings of
imagination...
I am a fish, a tadpole ...a crocodile
I am an urge, an idea....
A portent of impossible dreams
I lie between heaven and earth
Between goodness and evil
Between patience, and explosion...and yet...
I am as innocent as the rosy dawn
I sleep with my finger in my mouth
The cord of life curled 'round my ear
And like a child in it's mother's belly,
I am AMONG you, but not WITH you
I know no beginning, for I have no end...
I have always been here, a child in the silence
of things
Ready to awaken at any moment...
I am
possibility
Ah, what I know was given to me to say...there
IS more...
And the worlds that exist....
Are words that exist in the mind of Heaven
There are those of you who believe in the
limitations of imagination
They believe in the limitations of the
world...you cannot change them!
There is your own work to be done...
And you...you will never reach the end of your
own becoming!
The sadness, the creation, the joy of it...
Dance a moment.....reach down and pull me a
song, spin and chant
Forget the sorrow that we are flesh on bone.
Return with me to the dark waters......
....to the song in my mother's belly
We are gods, dancing in a whirlwind of darkness
...And in the Womb, before the World began....
we knew each other
we agreed.....
....To part company. To know sorrow, in
exchange for joy,
To know death, in exchange for life.
We are the dark seeds of possibility,
whispering....
And one by one, we entered alone,
....We walked on our legs, and passed in
well-lit streets,
Yet we did not recognize each other!
...Though we are gods!
Gods live, even in darkness
And in the world above your heads
And in the crevices of the dark
And in the open palm of a stranger...
I am the child....the seed in everything
The rhythm, the flower, the old story that
lingers
I am air....I am hidden love in a shy maiden's
gown
I am the name of things...
I am a man on earth, and a god in heaven
And while I travel the deserts in frail form
While I grow old, and weak, and die...
I live always as a Child, inside the Body of
Truth
A blue egg, that rocks in the storm, but never
breaks
I sleep in peace, my soul swallowed up by God
Come, know me, for I am the child within you!
Thanks to Normandy Ellis for her inspirational translation of Becoming
the Child, a poem in the Papyrus of Ani, one of the Egyptian Books of the Dead,
contained in her book AWAKENING OSIRIS. All graphics courtesy of Lucien Morgan,
author of Dreams and Symbols. Kabalistic midi Who AM I? courtesy of Rabbi Y.
Ashlag.
The Ancient Egyptian Creation Myth