Pass through into night,
as the moon rests on the
azure blue petals of flowers
that open to greet you.

Oh, isn’t it you?
Master of Thebes, who walks
amongst the living, speaking
strange enchantments into
the hearts of men
still unknowing.

Khepri turns the globe,
glowing smooth down the
howling West. Pleasure, joy
rapture in the star-milk,
in the planet-flames, in the
cosmic-body dancing, untamed.

Take your book of spells
that raise the dead. Weave
life into the hands of fate.
Don’t you know the secret
of going?

Prince-priest, lion-goddess,
make known this magick,
hold high the desert dust
and speak fresh verbs over
its corpse like water, cool and
dangerous.

Spin your charms
delicately, moving the feeling
of shiny times through your
fingers. Turn your face to the
sky, whilst you step onto your
boat at the rivers edge. Move
the paddle to glide clean
through, bringing sacred beings
with you.