May I reach an everlasting heaven and walk in the legend of mountains with thoughts quiet as deer. May I meet myself in every vegetable and rock quickened by tendrils of light. Holy and perfect is the world which lives by fire in the embrace of the carnelian heart. May I walk with the sun until eventide, forgetting the reason of hours. May I burst into light like a purple flower remembered by a lover.
--Awakening Osiris: The Egyptian Book of the Dead, Normandi Ellis, trans.
My neighbors returned from 3 weeks touring the ancient world of the Mediterranean, bringing me a lovely little alabaster vessel from Egypt, shaped like a canopic jar, and 2 acorns from Epidaurus, where Asclepius, student of the centaur Chiron, had his healing temple for dream incubation and his sacred groves. This conjunction of what passes with what is to be born is a moving reminder that all things pass and all are reborn, in the endless and eternal cycle of being. Blessings of the cycling seasons upon all, this day.
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