Wednesday, March 05, 2014

what a beautiful day, glorious, the birds are singing me a song from their secret language, telling a tale about the contendings of horus and set, it's complex and intricate, strange rhythms that are difficult for human ears to fully appreciate, and sometimes the insect kingdom will riff along, swelling the tones and suddenly cut out leaving only bird.
the song itself takes several hours, it's a conceptual piece in many ways structured in layers but latticed with arrangements very few humans could fathom, there's a mathematics to it but its pure math and thus eventually transcends into symbolism. 
at the beginning set and horus are pleading their case to the ennead at heliopolis, and the heliopolis reply thus there are nine parts plus the central voices of set and horus and this act can last for up to three hours, sometimes much longer and it does sound a little like a phillip glass piece at it's most coherent but then becomes something rachmaninov like, far to complex for me to understand completely. 
i'm laying on my sofa, feeling invigorated by this beautiful serenade when the sun comes streaming in through the trees, through the leaves and screen doors and right onto my skin, glorious. this must be the sky god making an appearance. i relax and probably fall asleep.
when i awake the birds are in a dramatic aria, set and horus in combat once again, its almost painfully suspenseful and the screeching of the birds is irritating. i let that go, and eventually horus emerges as victor. the birds disappear one by one, fluttering away from the garden until i am left with the whispering of two voices, that of the good ravens huginn and muninn, they tell me that horus is also odysseus and ulysses and depart.
i ponder my role as receiver of arcane information and obscure knowledge, why didn't i become a car mechanic, i think. of what possible use is this skill, if indeed it is a skill. 
the birds have gone, the insects vanished only some violent mosquitoes hanging around sucking my blood and pan at my feet. he raises his head and we share a knowing look we are both dreamers, inhabiting a dream.

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