I was once very taken with the philosophy of the Hermetic tradition, a form (or rather, various forms) of late antique mystical teachings that survived underground in Europe until the Renaissance, when it began to become fashionable among the intellectual elite. The origins of Hermeticism may have stretched back to ancient Egypt among a priestly class, but the texts we have are all from a much later age beginning with the Ptolemaic dynasty, and have thus been thoroughly infused with Hellenistic philosophy. The Neo-Platonists made use of these texts as a kind of Bible, often together with the so-called Chaldean Oracles with which they obviously share some characteristics. They also became very popular with alchemists throughout both western Asia and Europe, crossing religious and sectarian divides. Their philosophy is basically a form of mystical monotheism, which in itself probably originated in Egypt among other places. I very much approve of the idea that philosophy can and should transcend divisions. This attitude is sorely needed now due to the kind of fetishising of cultural and national identities that has made a huge and bothersome comeback since the age of online cosplay- and the sorry situation whereby sloppy Hollywood-esque movies, pop-history and video games (not in themselves bad of course) replace proper education. This latter circumstance comes at least partially, from the ravaging of public education by neoliberal economic doctrines that push dumbing-down and privatisation. Anyway, here following was my own attempt at poetry in the style of the aforementioned Chaldean oracles. I wish you all peace and good fortune for the weekend!
The Oracle of Night
1
‘Verily the Mind manifests
as this great star-bath of appearances.
Unto itself as a million sights and more
That in truth is one presence,
one and no more
2
The sightless are yet sighted
For yea, what is seen too is sight,
Both the recognized and recogniser
Are themselves the Mind and nothing more.
3
Cosmic horns between them hold
The dark-spaced theatre
of mortal mind’s play
The braying call that echoes within
assembles a world
that is Mind, and no more
4
In truth, there is nothing that lies without
The circle of fire that rises from the deep
Verily is illumed its own well alone
For the Mind and the dark
In thought alone are distinct
5
By the light of Mind’s fire
The mighty steps the dance
Time is pounded out
Living gemstones pulse
6
When she turns within,
He sees without-
With no fleshy eye
But the sentient base within
Verily the black sea
From out which Mind ascends
7
Round towers of sight swell up
of obsidian waters composed
Repeating their self-assembling thrusts
So rise the worlds,
So they bloom,
so they wilt
8
Thus arises the noble firmament,
self-assembling again and again
The pinnacle lanterns gleam as crown
The dancer quickens in aeon’s step
9
Purple and saffron, lime and azure,
green gems beneath, blazing as flame
As the highest heavens
the peak is raised
Time’s heart lighting
in puce fire sublime
10
All nature here is enfolded,
yea, even the unnatural seeming;
for the Divine Mind pulses outward,
and in all directions withdraws
11
The gods follow each turning
the two mothers and the mortals,
all shapes and flowing form
from the Mind that wells within
12
Yea- for, dark is the eternal womb
whose sentient tides give rise to all.
As skyward vapour from a midday lake,
as evening clouds rain down their load,
so too this mind births ever this World
13
The womb births the mothers,
the mothers and the man.
The Mind as dawn ascends
out the potent sea of night.
Colours rise as elements,
in a world manifest again’