|
I AM THE MAHA GENII
FROM
THE MANU GENESIS SPEAKS
By The Maha Genii Turriziani
I am the
MAHA GENII of ancient aeons gone.
No longer am I known by the other names I bore.
I am He re-embodied, recalled by lotus soul to self again
To blossom forth by stress and skillful pain
Of constant praise and joyful mirth
Within the deep retreat of my Soul’s
grateful ruby joy.
I am the Soul of Prophet, Seer of the Universe, Poet Laureate of Atlantis and Mu.
I am He that was and is now
The only begotten Sun of the Infallible, great Manu,
Setting this solar orb above the plain of earth
This last time to bear witness For
the closing of an Age.
Gathering in the harvest, the ancient of seeds
To remove the husks from
The precious, vital soulic nodes
From the fruits, so rare, of vintage seeds
Grown by the God’s benevolent Grace
Unlocked from time’s patient stores
And sacred, secret, blissful, silent awe.
Reflecting images of aeons long past
Wearing the mantle of recording weaves of Holy Light,
To be read upon the leaves of an Age before us now.
To recall the mind of mortals that walk asleep
Upon their moving, unfruitful worlds that mourn,
Though time and seasons pass, on the Arc of Vision.
To them who seed their caverns
Upon the measured fields,
With fervent hearts to plow the earth
And do stir the Fire in their earthen vessels of clay,
To bring to life the elements
Within their cavernous un-kneaded molds,
To mix to perfect order, true metal of gold,
The essence of each, their own nature’s fold.
Seven vials that in constant flow
Doth seek to pour itself into
Each chamber of the Temple of the Living God in man.
Measure of gold that colors radiance to the soul
And joyous heart in all,
Becoming the Sheba, Queen, Crescent-crowned, Glory Ray,
Goddess of the illumined Soul
Upon the plains of the golden harvest ahead.
Thirty and three are the Sons and Daughters
Of the lineage of Ra,
Ascending the prismatic ladder of the Gods
To Saturn’s mount of the Seventh Ray.
The higher the climb, the lighter the load
Never looking behind to see
The falling shadows long.
Reaching beyond the vision
That looms before the ascending sight,
The central, fiery Sun of Suns is the essence,
Giving power of life to the Aton,
Renewing the still, Eternity itself
Declared to be the First Cause of birth alone.
The infant born within the thousand petalled rays,
From the central eye of our Eternal Living God,
Giving great resurgent thrust to life
And the unborn ages ahead;
Coursing like galloping steeds of Fire
From the environs of the Eternal, blazing Suns
Of the Father God, Himself.
REINCARNATION
(IN PART)
FROMTHE MANU GENESIS SPEAKS
By The Maha Genii Turriziani
By Heaven’s sounding decree
And High consent
Into the plane of Earth
Cometh the Soul
Adventuring out again
Upon its seven, chambered ark,
With full, white
Sailed Hopes—
Upon life’s seas embarks,
For each dawn’s awakening
And Sabbath growth.
Trodding the mundane,
Grinding sands
As the Karmic wheel refines
And disperses past karma,
To the refuse of dead, sea shores,
As the soul enters in again,
Within the embryonic
Human seed in clay,
Through infant’s birth’s
Entrance and measured cry;
Upon the Earth timed sojourn
As the lower self’s egoistic mould
Suddenly re-inhabits in new
Garment’s folds.
THE PROPHET’S
VOICE
FROM
THE MANU GENESIS SPEAKS
By The Maha Genii Turriziani
Hear thou sons and daughters, this decree,
Gather ye together side by side for each perfected row,
To the Father’s Vineyard for the planting seeds,
The grapes of Joy to grow upon each vine
Shall be as witness to the Prophet’s voice,
That has proclaimed the Father’s winepress for each tended growth.
Oh fertile soil and fields of God so rare
Most precious streams that flow beneath His loving care.
Oh take His yoke for the Souls true tone
And take the path and humbly seek to know
The inner voice of the Father from His Throne,
As He seeks to council thee as ye turn within
To the lighted shrine within His Court.
Receiving wages for thy labors on His fields.
For virtuous effort He giveth virtue as reward.
Oh Soul of Souls, oh Absolute One,
We come to Thee as each task is done,
Not to take nor thought for pay,
But just to Be
As the morning flower doth look to Thee
For the early sun to chart its course
Along the Heaven’s inverted Pallas crown,
To spray Her jeweled, diadem rays to every humble, seeking Soul.
Oh awe of the Oracle’s sagacious horn
That thrills each newborn prophet’s voice,
Echoing loud throughout the Virgin Soul
And stirs the shepherds to leave their flock
To search the grotto’s, mounds and plains
For each stray soul that wandered far
From the shepherd’s tender, pastoral, chastening staff.
At last the stray doth view with deep remorse
The pastured lands he did for greed depart,
In hopes to find much greener patches, alone to munch,
Caring not for others, but just for self.
Yet the Master of the simple fold
Hath not reproach toward His precious, prodigal lambs,
But just to love each repentant, contrite heart
That lost its way by shadow and of doubt,
Leading them back to the Lighted, pastured realms
Of Peace and Joyful, God-full, Gratitude.
|
