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It begins in the dark.
(In the beginning, it is always dark.)
The light kindles nestled into the petals of the lotus, nestled into the lily, gold in the centre of the flower and illuminating its blue and purple petals with the glow of creation.
The incense fills the circle of light, the arc of existence, with sweet smells; the gods always come in a cloud of scent, and fill the world with perfume. The thin arcs and wisps of its burning glide into the innermost globe of light and dance there, riding the currents, Ra-Nefertem, the infant sun emerging from the lotus.
I have not been wise, I have not brought back the light in the dark for some time, I have not done my rituals, not filled myself up with the stillness of the First Time, of Zep Tepi in the circle of light, the darkness and I and the sun born in the heart of the first flower, and I should have done this.
The prayer fills me, fills me with quiet; I thought of doing ritual before the blood comes and prevents me, of rushing to it before it is taken away from me for a little while, and I do it, by accident, on the long night of the northland that the ancients never knew, rekindling the sun in my heart as it turns back towards my home. I do it and am restored to Zep Tepi as those I know think of pomegranates and vigils until dawn.
I am full up of dawn, the first dawn, the quiet dawn.
I lift the lotus up into the dark, and the light dances.
I breathe the flame into me, and I am full of dark and full of light.
I breathe out ma'at. May Their kau be fed.
(In the beginning, it is always dark.)
The light kindles nestled into the petals of the lotus, nestled into the lily, gold in the centre of the flower and illuminating its blue and purple petals with the glow of creation.
The incense fills the circle of light, the arc of existence, with sweet smells; the gods always come in a cloud of scent, and fill the world with perfume. The thin arcs and wisps of its burning glide into the innermost globe of light and dance there, riding the currents, Ra-Nefertem, the infant sun emerging from the lotus.
I have not been wise, I have not brought back the light in the dark for some time, I have not done my rituals, not filled myself up with the stillness of the First Time, of Zep Tepi in the circle of light, the darkness and I and the sun born in the heart of the first flower, and I should have done this.
The prayer fills me, fills me with quiet; I thought of doing ritual before the blood comes and prevents me, of rushing to it before it is taken away from me for a little while, and I do it, by accident, on the long night of the northland that the ancients never knew, rekindling the sun in my heart as it turns back towards my home. I do it and am restored to Zep Tepi as those I know think of pomegranates and vigils until dawn.
I am full up of dawn, the first dawn, the quiet dawn.
I lift the lotus up into the dark, and the light dances.
I breathe the flame into me, and I am full of dark and full of light.
I breathe out ma'at. May Their kau be fed.
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Hail to the Unconquered Sun, and to the light within you.
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