Ancient Egyptian Magic for Modern Witches by Reed Ellen Cannon;

Ancient Egyptian Magic for Modern Witches by Reed Ellen Cannon;

Author:Reed, Ellen Cannon;
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
ISBN: 6449706
Publisher: Red Wheel/Weiser


You are standing by a river, broad and full. Tall palms grow beside it.

The sun beats down on your body, and you welcome it. It feels good, soaking into your skin, soothing muscles, warming you. Its head, and the sounds and sights of the river, bring you a feeling of peace. For the moment you are content to look, listen, and feel.

At the edge of the river, growing from the water, are green stalks, a plant you recognize as papyrus. Amongst them stands a bird with a long, curved beak. He is very still, eyes closed, and seems to be thinking deep, serious thoughts.

Out on the river, fishermen cast their nets. Their voices drift back over the water as they call to each other. Some of them are singing as they work.

Near you, a field of barley thrives. A slight breeze whispers through its leaves.

You become aware of a presence behind you—so powerful a presence that you hesitate to turn—yet you know you must, and slowly, you do.

The figure you see is tall, and strongly built. He wears a nemyss of dark blue and gold striped material; the same cloth used in his short kilt. A pectoral of lapis lazuli with a large scarab in the center stands out against his bronze chest.

His expression reveals nothing of his thoughts, yet you feel the power of His Presence, His very being . . . and you are overcome by it . . . by Him. Without meaning to move, you find yourself at his feet.

For a moment, you hear only the beating of your own heart. Then, in a voice that is firm, tinged perhaps with amusement, He says, “The pharaohs that were my image needed homage to remind them of me. I do not. Rise.”

A bit dazed, you start to stand up. He reaches down to help you, and you take His hand as a child might reach to its father.

“Walk with me,” He says and you know that where He leads, you will follow.

Beside Asar, you walk between the river and the barley field. He reminds you that He taught his people the skill of agriculture, turned them from nomads into the progenitors of a great civilization.

“This is often forgotten,” He muses. “Think more on my life . . . your people think too much of my death.”

He ponders the barley for a moment, and speaks, almost to Himself. “I tried to teach them of life and death through the grain . . . but they did not understand. I had to teach them through my own death.” He is silent for several heartbeats, staring at the grain before Him.

Just when you think He has forgotten you, He turns back with a warming smile. “Come,” He says, “let us walk farther. I have much to tell you.” And you walk beside Him, and listen.

A long pause (at least five minutes) should be made to allow the students to experience their own time with Asar.

Finally, you stop. He turns to bid you farewell, and to give you His blessing.



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