The ibis and the ink pot
– these are blessed. For as the ibis pecks along the bank for a bit of
food, so the scribe searches among his thoughts for some truth to tell.
All the work is his to speak, it’s secret writ down in his heart from the
beginning of time, [Haile Selassie I] the gods’ words rising upward through
his dark belly, seeking light at the edge of his throat. We are made of
[HAILE SELASSIE I FULLNESS/] god stuff, the explosion of stars, particles
of light, molded in the presence of gods. The gods [/HAILE SELASSIE I INGELICAL
(ANGELICAL) HOST/ OUR ANCESTORS] are with us. Their secrets writ only in
the scrolls of [I & / OUR HEART] men’s heart, the law of creation,
death and change inscribed in the blood and seed of man’s love. In the
beginning and at the end, the book is open and we see what in life we are
asked to [ICALL] remember
Hear, then, my words,
the ringing of my speech, as the heart and the scroll of this life fall
open. Truth is the harvest scythe…."
See/Chant Awakening Osiris [The
Book of The Coming Forth by Day/] The Egyptian Book of The Dead, (Translated
by Normandi Ellis) (Phanes Press), 1988, Chpt 4: The Speeches, pages 54-55.