4/3/22
“So what did you get from the book fair with the money I gave you?” I asked.
And he proceeded to show me a large book of ancient kings and hidden mysteries and giant feats of great men of old.
I smiled as he turned to the section on Egypt.
And he opened to the page about mummies and burial. And I proceeded to tell him why the jars were there, and why the mummy’s arms were crossed, and how the Ka of the deceased king lives on and still speaks, his Ba flying to and from the chamber like a winged bird. And I told him why there were scrolls buried with him, are what is written on them, and the prayers within them declare the faithfulness of the persons of own words and deeds, which are taken with him to the after-death for the weighing of his heart, and how they speak of his true name and his heart’s condition as a declaration in the Hall of Judgement, where his name will change and become a new pronouncement: a fallen king, and now One with Osiris.
“Who’s Osiris, Dad?”
And I told him the tale of Osiris, how he was tricked and betrayed by his own brother Set who murdered him, dethroned him, quartered him into 14 pieces, and scattered them throughout Egypt so that he might never rise again; and I told him of Osiris’s secret wife Isis, her heart-felt and hidden plan to raise up her slain husband; how she spreads her winged arms and flies like a bird to find and gather up all of the scattered pieces of Osiris, collecting them and bringing them together in order and arrangement, in hopes of reassembling him so that Osiris might live and Horus might come, the great son of the sky.
“Who’s Horus, Dad?”
And I told him of Horus, the secret son of Isis and Osiris, the great falcon of the sky whose right eye is the sun and left eye the moon, the morning and evening star, the pride of him who was born and raised in secret, growing slowly and steadily, hidden in the marshes; surviving and healing and growing and learning and mastering and waiting until the right time came to finally emerge and openly challenge Set, and overthrow him forever, finally avenging his fallen father Osiris and bringing order to the land.
And I pointed to the eye on the crypt wall and said, “That is his eye… the eye of the One who sees everything in secret.”
And he said, “Oh yeah! I’ve seen that before!”
And I smiled with pride.
“That, my son, is the great ‘Eye of Horus.’ And now,” said I, “you know.”
But the boy’s mother heard all this, and immediately forced him off the call.
And so the FT ended.
