Summer Fire

Ancestor worship and a ghastly haunt story of ghostly hospitality. For Guests only.

Read on.

Hospitality in the Hospital and Hostility in the Hospice. Host and Guest gain equal standing [by reading on].

We call them Mesopotamian because the Greeks called them Mesopotamian. They are between the rivers.

In the Indus River Valley in those times dwelt a people whom the Mesopotamians called the Meluha; they traded grain with the Meluha in exchange for luxury goods such as carnelian stone ever since the days of the oldest Sumerian dynasties.

After the Epoch of the Meluha, History makes way for the Indo-Persian advent of the mystic cattle-rustlers with their own kinda Vedic good ol' days ingesting to extinction their trance-inducing Soma drug and bursting forth in fancy Sanskritic languages which already look forward to the Mauryan Empire and its Buddhic days of expansion and introspection.

by Shiva's lingam atman is the breath besouled nirguna brahman not in beads and worshipful icons but inscrutable saguna brahman manifests as avatar in picture mantras meaning moshka my breath and moksha my release with attributes or without attributes he was accordingly unlocking his Word-Horde

Rajas were regal enough, funding in cattle the establishment of the priestly Rig of Vedic Ritualism. Communal fire sacrifice to all beginnings and all endings for watery purification rites elegantly tribalized magic sympathizes the rainmakers and the crop-bringers into a synthesis with nature's fertile path perfectly choreographed like the various meters of verse, the GAYATRI above all meters being auspicious.

Anyway Brahman is said to be the force or the discreet conditioning power operant during the rites and bedecking the golden bough of the Zoroastrian Towers of Silence reaching to the heavens where the dead are placed to rot and be eaten by raptors in order to respect the sanctity of the earthen soil and do reverence even to the silent food for vultures therefore Bless us oh master of light in this our transformation.

We drink the Soma courousing to each holy libation like a toast and rehearse in our hearts the manifold creations of the universe through sacrifice and songful recapitulation of migrations of peoples, fearsome warriors, the women and the juveniles, the herds and the tuneful birds.

But what do You have to say about this [secret] not so secret Energy O Yama Lord of Death, Master of the House of Riches--because the enlightened pupil sees clearly that if you cut open the tiny seed of this goodly fruit the NOTHING that You see inside the seed is indeed the essence of Life [and cessation of life].

Way of Restless Seeking

Way of Bright Seeing

Way of Inert Darkness

so they told us in school the wisdom of rhythm in verse weaving powerful word garlands from jasmine gardens shaded dark and light meant to attract the wayward mind to a focal point or convince It of something: they called these garlands Mantras to grasp and bind a billion karmic deaths ignited into births by atomic Yoga until the Fire-Spirit dies unbound to go rebind and resound

Uf, what chaos. Take a breath. A deep one. For the record, I am still very sorry my karma ran over your dogma. Really.

Of course, these are only analogies, for have I not drunk Soma? The Persian fire worshippers are seemingly spaced-out staring into the flames and staring into the sun but they concentrate on something else altogether: what are they watching? Oh, I see--uh-oh, they're at it again Mazda and the Evil Mind are battling encore for control of the cosmos and the swastika in Sanskrit has been usurped and unpopularized by an infamous historical tyrant, and yet it goes on and on it keeps going [on again off again]: this many-headed multi-armed cycle of multitudinal metempsychosis.

...etc...

That is Reincarnation and the basis on which rebirthing they say that this pasture shall not be taken from us but This Time in this overpopulated land I mean that THIS TIME around on the circular cycle I desire to break free of this prison because I'm yearning all the way to the utmost threshold of it all that nothing short of absolute liberation can satisfy my impermanent transient insatiable Self who wants Moksha and nothing less than envisioned in a Persian Paradise carpeted in heavenly earth the enclosed garden of Bodhisattva-Land gently fatally snuff out the flame/

\for I will stare you down in the end with all your veils and tragicomic masks of illusion/

/they will fall as Nothing under the severe blade of my gaze. And so, unperturbed in pleasure and in pain, the goal was set to rise above these modifications;

however in light of the transcendental Theory of the Relativity all things Reincarnated: this moment is unique.

Therefore in the names of all the millions of gods and goddesses we beg the simple human consciousness not to pull the plug nor seek so compassionately passionately to madly extinguish the eternal fire and its ecstasy but let it burn brightly for the sustenance and sacrement of the living let it also burn brightly for the purification of the dead and we can meander and migrate from the Myth to the Meaning kept warm by the flame chanting fervently feverishly to the holy ground of skies Utterance of mantras empowering each Word.

OM