RJM Corbet
Deus Pascus Corvus
From the Diary of Hamish El Tyrone:
Dust motes dance in the light from the window.
There is no cruelty in the land of the brave. The merciful mirror of prayer echoes back and forth, reflecting everything forever, and even a giant may not know where his own feet will fall. I don’t even think about happiness any more. What is happiness? But I pray great Eloih to help me bind some hope to my heart, or this sadness will kill me.
A good quill has a good nib. The nib matters most. Of course there is more to a fine pen than a good nib alone, but the nib comes first. A fine quill is well balanced in the hand, with a comfortable grip, and of course a good pen looks good: it makes you want to pick it up.
I have several pens but my favourite is an eagle feather, tipped with silver. The nib is smooth and strong and seldom blots, and the tawny eagle feather reminds me always of Aazyr, its intricate pattern of stripes, the camouflage of Aazyr’s endless grasslands. The bottom half of the feather is darker than the top, and it curves comfortably towards my hand, perfectly balanced.
There is a notch in the feather, a flaw. It has survived the ocean crossing from Aazyr to Marana. It is quite a big feather; if I wave it near my face, it makes a wind strong enough to move my hair. It is the best pen I have ever owned. I treasure it. I keep it clean and store it carefully away after using it, and woe betide anyone I should ever catch writing with it.
I see buildings, chimneys. Carriages cross an old stone bridge across the river, which is always peace, always the same. I am learning to adopt the accent of the people of Marana now. This is not an affectation, simply that I am not properly understood unless I do. I stranger must learn to speak the language, and to pronounce it right.
It may be strange that it is this crowded island that has bought me closer to nature than did great Aazyr, where open space and sky and sun are to man like the air he breathes and seldom stops to notice.
Remorse for the past should never be allowed to fester and rot and poison the healthy fabric of the body. That is not its purpose. He cannot be forgiven, who cannot forgive, which means he must forgive himself too. It is the breakdown and the understanding, and the gift of spirit.
Nothing can stop the words. Words give, and words take. The pages of the future become filled with the words of today. But as I write this I think you should allow me a little philosophy. There is enough time to dwell upon the subject, and a diary that is almost eight years old, as I write upon the empty page of yesterday.
I have already given you the words and meditations of the Sabbath communions of the old garden kingdoms of Aazyr, and promised to give you the rest, so now here now are the communions for the second day, which is the first working day of the week. You can skip them if you want to and come back and read them later, but you will know they are kept here.
On the morning of the second day: while meditating upon the hills and fields and valleys of the earth, the people of the garden kingdoms invoked into their bodies the power of the Angel of Earth, with these words: "Angel of Earth, enter my generative organs and regenerate my whole body."
The master’s words: “The power of the Angel of Earth courses in the soil, in the grass, and in all living things that grow from the soil. It is the Angel of Earth that draws from the acorn the mighty oak, and makes the wheat to grow, and from the seed of man creates new life. I tell you that power of the Angel of Earth creates the life also of the spirit within man.”
At noon on the second day: the people called upon the Angel of Peace with the kingdom of the Earthly Mother: “Our Father who art in Heaven, send to all your Angel of Peace; to the kingdom of our Earthly Mother, the Angel of Joy.”
Words of the master, preserved by the monks of Aazyr, which words may not be changed or altered: "Honour and obey the laws of your earthly mother for her breath is your breath, her blood is your blood, her bone your bone, her flesh your flesh, her bowels your bowels; your eyes and your ears are her eyes and ears.
"She is in you, and you in her. Of her were you born, in her you live, and to her shall you return. It is the blood of your earthly mother that falls as rain and fills the rivers; it is her breath that whispers in the leaves and comes down from the mountains as a mighty wind. The flesh of your earthly mother is sweet and firm in the fruits of the trees, her bones are the giant rocks and stones which stand as sentinels of the lost times. He who clings to her laws, to him shall she cling also.
"Before the great flood, the great ones walked the earth, and giant trees were their home and their kingdom. They lived for many hundreds of years. They ate from the table of the earthly mother, and slept in the protection of the heavenly father, and they knew not disease, old age or death. To the sons of men they bequeathed the hidden knowledge of the tree of life which stands in the eternal.
“But the eyes of men were blinded by the promises of satan, and man severed the golden threads that bound him to his earthly mother and to his heavenly father. For man’s visible acting body of flesh is in fact a combination of three other, unseen bodies. Man’s body of will is centred in his acting body. The natural centre of his feeling body is in the heart, and the centre of his thinking body is located at the middle of his forehead.
"The book of nature is a holy scroll where man may read from living pages. The law is written in the grass and in the trees, in the rivers and the mountains, in birds and beasts and fishes, and most of all in man himself.”
On the evening of the second day: while meditating upon the work of bees, the people invoked the angel of Creative Work, with these words: "Angel of Creative Work, descend upon humanity and give abundance to all men."
The master said: “In this most powerful angel of the heavenly father, is the cause of movement, which is life. As you work and move, so will the Angel of Work nurture and ripen the seed of your spirit, that you may see God.”
Dust motes dance in the light from the window.
There is no cruelty in the land of the brave. The merciful mirror of prayer echoes back and forth, reflecting everything forever, and even a giant may not know where his own feet will fall. I don’t even think about happiness any more. What is happiness? But I pray great Eloih to help me bind some hope to my heart, or this sadness will kill me.
A good quill has a good nib. The nib matters most. Of course there is more to a fine pen than a good nib alone, but the nib comes first. A fine quill is well balanced in the hand, with a comfortable grip, and of course a good pen looks good: it makes you want to pick it up.
I have several pens but my favourite is an eagle feather, tipped with silver. The nib is smooth and strong and seldom blots, and the tawny eagle feather reminds me always of Aazyr, its intricate pattern of stripes, the camouflage of Aazyr’s endless grasslands. The bottom half of the feather is darker than the top, and it curves comfortably towards my hand, perfectly balanced.
There is a notch in the feather, a flaw. It has survived the ocean crossing from Aazyr to Marana. It is quite a big feather; if I wave it near my face, it makes a wind strong enough to move my hair. It is the best pen I have ever owned. I treasure it. I keep it clean and store it carefully away after using it, and woe betide anyone I should ever catch writing with it.
I see buildings, chimneys. Carriages cross an old stone bridge across the river, which is always peace, always the same. I am learning to adopt the accent of the people of Marana now. This is not an affectation, simply that I am not properly understood unless I do. I stranger must learn to speak the language, and to pronounce it right.
It may be strange that it is this crowded island that has bought me closer to nature than did great Aazyr, where open space and sky and sun are to man like the air he breathes and seldom stops to notice.
Remorse for the past should never be allowed to fester and rot and poison the healthy fabric of the body. That is not its purpose. He cannot be forgiven, who cannot forgive, which means he must forgive himself too. It is the breakdown and the understanding, and the gift of spirit.
Nothing can stop the words. Words give, and words take. The pages of the future become filled with the words of today. But as I write this I think you should allow me a little philosophy. There is enough time to dwell upon the subject, and a diary that is almost eight years old, as I write upon the empty page of yesterday.
I have already given you the words and meditations of the Sabbath communions of the old garden kingdoms of Aazyr, and promised to give you the rest, so now here now are the communions for the second day, which is the first working day of the week. You can skip them if you want to and come back and read them later, but you will know they are kept here.
On the morning of the second day: while meditating upon the hills and fields and valleys of the earth, the people of the garden kingdoms invoked into their bodies the power of the Angel of Earth, with these words: "Angel of Earth, enter my generative organs and regenerate my whole body."
The master’s words: “The power of the Angel of Earth courses in the soil, in the grass, and in all living things that grow from the soil. It is the Angel of Earth that draws from the acorn the mighty oak, and makes the wheat to grow, and from the seed of man creates new life. I tell you that power of the Angel of Earth creates the life also of the spirit within man.”
At noon on the second day: the people called upon the Angel of Peace with the kingdom of the Earthly Mother: “Our Father who art in Heaven, send to all your Angel of Peace; to the kingdom of our Earthly Mother, the Angel of Joy.”
Words of the master, preserved by the monks of Aazyr, which words may not be changed or altered: "Honour and obey the laws of your earthly mother for her breath is your breath, her blood is your blood, her bone your bone, her flesh your flesh, her bowels your bowels; your eyes and your ears are her eyes and ears.
"She is in you, and you in her. Of her were you born, in her you live, and to her shall you return. It is the blood of your earthly mother that falls as rain and fills the rivers; it is her breath that whispers in the leaves and comes down from the mountains as a mighty wind. The flesh of your earthly mother is sweet and firm in the fruits of the trees, her bones are the giant rocks and stones which stand as sentinels of the lost times. He who clings to her laws, to him shall she cling also.
"Before the great flood, the great ones walked the earth, and giant trees were their home and their kingdom. They lived for many hundreds of years. They ate from the table of the earthly mother, and slept in the protection of the heavenly father, and they knew not disease, old age or death. To the sons of men they bequeathed the hidden knowledge of the tree of life which stands in the eternal.
“But the eyes of men were blinded by the promises of satan, and man severed the golden threads that bound him to his earthly mother and to his heavenly father. For man’s visible acting body of flesh is in fact a combination of three other, unseen bodies. Man’s body of will is centred in his acting body. The natural centre of his feeling body is in the heart, and the centre of his thinking body is located at the middle of his forehead.
"The book of nature is a holy scroll where man may read from living pages. The law is written in the grass and in the trees, in the rivers and the mountains, in birds and beasts and fishes, and most of all in man himself.”
On the evening of the second day: while meditating upon the work of bees, the people invoked the angel of Creative Work, with these words: "Angel of Creative Work, descend upon humanity and give abundance to all men."
The master said: “In this most powerful angel of the heavenly father, is the cause of movement, which is life. As you work and move, so will the Angel of Work nurture and ripen the seed of your spirit, that you may see God.”
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