|Twilight On The Field Of Reeds
||[Aug. 31st, 2014|12:40 pm]
I was watching a very enjoyable documentary about Egyptian funerary practises last night and right at the very end the presenter spoiled it- or more accurately annoyed me- by saying something like "We 21st century people may think the Egyptians were wasting their time on all that mummification nonsense- because Death is death- but we're still talking about Kha and Merrit so in a sense..." And I thought, "Talk for yourself and your metropolitan mates. I have no doubt the Egyptian Duat existed and indeed- being timeless- still exists."|
Here, have a poem. I seem to have posted this before, but...
TWILIGHT ON THE FIELD OF REEDS
The old Egyptians are winking out
On the astral- so my informant claims.
Her theory is they rely on us
Thinking about them, speaking their names
To raise the psychic energies
That keep them in the Field of Reeds,
But now our input is dropping off
Which makes her sad because she’s a fan
Of theirs and on the way to becoming
An adept in Egyptian magic.
Me, I’m much less sympathetic.
Haven’t they had their money’s worth,
I ask, of feasts and dancing girls
And all the things you see them doing
In murals- shooting ducks for instance
Or spearing hippopotami?
Isn’t it time they got in touch
With how things are back here on earth
Where all that stiff hieratic grace
No longer cuts it, but (thank heaven)
Artificial hips are in
And dental care is a lot improved?
You’ve rested up, so come on, guys,
Go get yourselves an incarnation.