It is on the seventh day of each month that the future lives of men are unveiled and they come from all parts of the Earth to know what the fates have in store for them. This is except for during the winter months, when twice-born Dionysus returns and natural chaos reigns in place of Apollo’s measured reason.
When frost is on the ground and the sheaves of wheat have frozen back into the Earth – when the great, bright star of Maia appears on the horizon – then it is that nine wild maenads herald the arrival of Dionysus. His body is buried very close to where I am standing and during his season our dedications are made for to the following year’s harvest, while we pray that the sun God will return, his golden youth be resurrected.
When I am satisfied that the purification rituals have been performed correctly and the Temple is spotlessly clean, I walk towards the entrance of the great hall. It is elaborately decorated with all manner of votives – burnished golden shields, statues, cauldrons, tripods and bows - from all four corners of the Earth. Counted amongst them are the ensigns and symbols of every noble family that is known to this world.
I instinctively look up before leaving Apollo’s house, to above the entrance where a thousand garlands of laurel create fragrant canopies beneath the ceiling and pay host to the songbirds that sing his praises. The sweetest voice I ever heard belongs to the nightingale, who reveals to those with ears to hear the innermost longing of the psyche. A pure, shrill note breaks the silence and escapes into Echo’s lonely realm.
When daybreak comes I shall return.
Showing posts with label temple. Show all posts
Showing posts with label temple. Show all posts
Wednesday, 28 May 2014
Tuesday, 27 May 2014
The Temple
To the left of the house of Hades under a graceful white cypress a well offers spring water. Don’t drink there. Find the well by the lake of memory. Guardians protect the cold water. Tell them…
I am standing in the centre of a great rectangular hall with my head held high and my long, bright hair wound into an elaborate arrangement that is held in place by a gleaming diadem. My white linen robe is bound with pure gold and I am standing still as a statue, with one eye fixed upon the future as the other observes what is past.
There is no wind beneath the temple roof and the air is warm, within and without. The only sounds that can be heard are an occasional bleating of goats and the distant murmuring of servants as they make ready for the Spring Council, which is to be held here in three and a half days.
I have already swept clean the marble floor and it shines like the full moon of Amalios. Mid-morning sunrays flood the hallowed space, infusing every atom. Narrow gaps between the thick, rounded pillars reveal sections of a motionless scene, silent as if time had ceased.
Happy are the men who enter this house and ask of me, “What do you see?” The wisest make the best of the answer they are given, but many enlist the counsel of Saints to assist with their understanding. Others seek more, but seldom to any avail, for there is a way that we do things at this place - the navel of the world - where the future is inscribed on lead.
I stand within the fourth Apollonian Temple to have been built here, which has undergone extensive and ongoing repair works following the War that almost destroyed it. The first Temple was much smaller than the present building and constructed from branches of Thessaly’s sacred laurel trees, while the next was created by bees of wax and feathers, designed to bridge the gap between Earth and the underworld.
Bees make the journey to and from Hades as a matter of course and the secrets they retrieve therein are for the golden ears of Apollo and his twin sister Artemis, the virgin huntress, keeper of the moon.
The third temple was a great bronze edifice, which stood for many years before the heat of the Sun God melted it back into the Earth. The fourth was built before I took up my office and the fifth shall be put on its foundations when I have left for the Elysium Fields.
I am standing in the centre of a great rectangular hall with my head held high and my long, bright hair wound into an elaborate arrangement that is held in place by a gleaming diadem. My white linen robe is bound with pure gold and I am standing still as a statue, with one eye fixed upon the future as the other observes what is past.
There is no wind beneath the temple roof and the air is warm, within and without. The only sounds that can be heard are an occasional bleating of goats and the distant murmuring of servants as they make ready for the Spring Council, which is to be held here in three and a half days.
I have already swept clean the marble floor and it shines like the full moon of Amalios. Mid-morning sunrays flood the hallowed space, infusing every atom. Narrow gaps between the thick, rounded pillars reveal sections of a motionless scene, silent as if time had ceased.
Happy are the men who enter this house and ask of me, “What do you see?” The wisest make the best of the answer they are given, but many enlist the counsel of Saints to assist with their understanding. Others seek more, but seldom to any avail, for there is a way that we do things at this place - the navel of the world - where the future is inscribed on lead.
I stand within the fourth Apollonian Temple to have been built here, which has undergone extensive and ongoing repair works following the War that almost destroyed it. The first Temple was much smaller than the present building and constructed from branches of Thessaly’s sacred laurel trees, while the next was created by bees of wax and feathers, designed to bridge the gap between Earth and the underworld.
Bees make the journey to and from Hades as a matter of course and the secrets they retrieve therein are for the golden ears of Apollo and his twin sister Artemis, the virgin huntress, keeper of the moon.
The third temple was a great bronze edifice, which stood for many years before the heat of the Sun God melted it back into the Earth. The fourth was built before I took up my office and the fifth shall be put on its foundations when I have left for the Elysium Fields.
Sunday, 25 May 2014
Eagles of East and West
In a place beyond time and space, illumined by the midnight sun, Zeus brought to mind the Eagles of East and West. Holding them in sight, he gave to them their mission, saying: “Fly now each of you in his own direction. Neither is swifter than the other; the place where you meet I shall pin down forever as the centre of this world.
When their flight was complete and the marker laid down, Zeus commanded the gods to come down from their clouds to witness the creation of his temple on Earth. Each arrived swiftly in his or her elemental guise, Sun and Moon first among equals.
A bull emerged from the forest, metamorphosing with a swagger into a shining youth. He walked hand-in-hand with the loveliest female and raised to her moistened lips an earthen jar of ruby‐coloured wine.
Her love‐child laughed with his magician .
Hera gazed broodingly at the twice‐born son of his father and a nimbus descended on the assembly. “I hope you will not reserve too many honours for the youth Dionysus, husband, for he is only quite immortal, with half true blood in his blue, engorged veins”.
Zeus roared with laughter and raised a toast to his progeny. “But see the ones who are with him, sister, you must admit he is in great company - the body of desire with the power of love and herald of all ages - I see no issue here but that which is great!”
He turned to his eldest boy, golden Sun of heaven. “Come now Apollo, step beyond the clouds and send forth your rays. I would have you build me a house where men from all corners of the world will come to learn their destiny.”
When their flight was complete and the marker laid down, Zeus commanded the gods to come down from their clouds to witness the creation of his temple on Earth. Each arrived swiftly in his or her elemental guise, Sun and Moon first among equals.
A bull emerged from the forest, metamorphosing with a swagger into a shining youth. He walked hand-in-hand with the loveliest female and raised to her moistened lips an earthen jar of ruby‐coloured wine.
Her love‐child laughed with his magician .
Hera gazed broodingly at the twice‐born son of his father and a nimbus descended on the assembly. “I hope you will not reserve too many honours for the youth Dionysus, husband, for he is only quite immortal, with half true blood in his blue, engorged veins”.
Zeus roared with laughter and raised a toast to his progeny. “But see the ones who are with him, sister, you must admit he is in great company - the body of desire with the power of love and herald of all ages - I see no issue here but that which is great!”
He turned to his eldest boy, golden Sun of heaven. “Come now Apollo, step beyond the clouds and send forth your rays. I would have you build me a house where men from all corners of the world will come to learn their destiny.”
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)