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Old 01-21-2010, 05:57 PM   #763
Join Date: Dec 2009
Location: Queanbeyan/Canberra; NSW, Australia
Posts: 635
Default Re: Thuban Q&A: (warning longer than normal posts here)

Originally Posted by UncleJohn View Post

And now for a question that I use to ask my friends so long ago. Who are the Grateful Dead and why are they following me around?
Your links above are showing your receiving the information Uncle John!

The Grateful Dead are who they are, described in the below and the poem, written by me, but transmitted by them.

RaH Versus ApeP as HaR the Image of RaHaR in the Mirror of Hathor.

The Right White Solar Eye of RaH for Horus of the Horizon as the 3 and the Left Black Lunar Eye of HaR for Hathor of the Mirror as the 6 and Imaged in the Right Eye of Uraeus in Anubis as the 9.

Anubis Khaibit- Shadow of Uraeus

"A most wondrous thing the Shadow is, a redeemer in all to succour;
it can go where the light cannot abide, seemingly banished, it is not.
For where the light is, the darkness flees, no longer present to endure;
so to become illuminated is its destined journey and its troubled lot.

But without the light, no Shadow can be cast, its such a splendid key;
the dimensions reduce in space from three to two and all in just the one.
Betwixt the light and the darkness it is and part of both for all to see;
the Shadow of the body, does it not merge all in its rule under the sun?

Whatsoever can cast a Shadow, must be a most wondrous thing to relay;
as nature's very own offspring, the young ones grow towards their final goal.
Enabled to bring peace to so many things appearing apart and so far away;
the reconciliation for the suffering body with its spirit and its scattered soul."

{Speak Nothing but Good of the Dead}

Out in the graveyard;
inscriptions, words and plaques, all withering away;
like the flowers adorning them, so the dead do lay.
Waiting and waiting for someone to remember them
and not just in photoalbums or on the special days.

Memorials are built, meaningless constructions - lest we forget!
They all are forgotten, given time enough to sigh, to pass away.
The living are so busy preparing for their own demise, to die.
Little do they know, the busy ones, that the dead are still alive.

They watch over the living ones, they do, from a place so far;
yet so near they are, but why would they watch the way they do?
To understand the mystery is the noble thing to do - a gallant quest.
They wish to be remembered, to join in soul and mind , the body's zest.

A marriage betwixt the dimensions, a holy union in heaven with hell.
But can the fearful thoughts of the living see, their lovehearts tell?
The living are like snowflakes, made of water, so unique one by one.
But they melt away, to be fluid again - into the one great ocean, gone!

The dead are all one in the great seas, waiting to crystallise again in two.
To wake up to a new life again, as a snowflake-twin, asking: 'Love me too!'
Eternal life awaits the living, could they only reply to the dead's request.
But the alive ones linger and doubt, in vanity do they live their only quest.

{Thus passes away the glory of the world}

abraxasinas is offline