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Greetings! This page is simply for myth and hopefully inspiration. It is under copyright. I hope you find something within the words. If you do remember that any wisdom we are able to hear comes to us through a greater wisdom within us. Enjoy!
The Bennu is born every 500yrs from aromatic flames of emerald and myrrh. She is a heron-like creature that speaks of the alchemy of the soul, while her sister, The Phoenix, allows for the re-formation of our lives through fire. Bennu has flown through the millennia from ancient Arabia. Hers is the cry of pain and triumph of a child springing from a womb; of a bird learning to fly; of life charging out of death into absolute being, knowing that death again awaits it in so many ways, just as life can be found at every turn. The flames burn and re-forge our soul, each cycle patterned towards a flight and a call of triumph; a life to be lived fresh from flame. Each time, as we face the furnace, a voice inside asks ‘how can this be?’ and each time we fly or recall flight we know. The flame has forged tools and weapons of learning, living, of love and of battle. It will meld our selves into fuller, surer, sharper, stronger form. The soul does not have boundaries and the body does not deceive. From the fire of her deathbed and cradle Bennu screeches a command; ‘Live! Live and live again!’ It is sometimes a hard law to live by, particularly when scorched and resolutely unaccustomed to taking orders. It may possibly be the best and only command worth hearing. It is one of two ‘laws’ I will listen to. (The other is the ‘law’ of love.) To survive the flame sometimes you must simply be the flame yourself, then you will rise above with outstretched wings. I believe we are living through a birth of Bennu. May you fly with sure wings & see with sure eyes!
The Bennu is born every 500yrs from aromatic flames of emerald and myrrh. She is a heron-like creature that speaks of the alchemy of the soul, while her sister, The Phoenix, allows for the re-formation of our lives through fire. Bennu has flown through the millennia from ancient Arabia. Hers is the cry of pain and triumph of a child springing from a womb; of a bird learning to fly; of life charging out of death into absolute being, knowing that death again awaits it in so many ways, just as life can be found at every turn. The flames burn and re-forge our soul, each cycle patterned towards a flight and a call of triumph; a life to be lived fresh from flame. Each time, as we face the furnace, a voice inside asks ‘how can this be?’ and each time we fly or recall flight we know. The flame has forged tools and weapons of learning, living, of love and of battle. It will meld our selves into fuller, surer, sharper, stronger form. The soul does not have boundaries and the body does not deceive. From the fire of her deathbed and cradle Bennu screeches a command; ‘Live! Live and live again!’ It is sometimes a hard law to live by, particularly when scorched and resolutely unaccustomed to taking orders. It may possibly be the best and only command worth hearing. It is one of two ‘laws’ I will listen to. (The other is the ‘law’ of love.) To survive the flame sometimes you must simply be the flame yourself, then you will rise above with outstretched wings. I believe we are living through a birth of Bennu. May you fly with sure wings & see with sure eyes!
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Latest page update: made by zen1
, Feb 20 2008, 9:14 AM EST
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