I am a living flame of Bast
None shall harm me or mine!
I call down fire in the name of Sekhmet
I call down fire in the name of Mafdet
I call down fire in the name of Maahes
I call down fire in the name of Bast!
Dua Het-heru!
Dua Het-heru, Lady of the West, Sweet Sycamore
Dua Het-heru, Bearer of Joy and Bringer of Prosperity
Lady, you are wondrous to behold
You are rivers overflowing
You are gardens overgrowing!
Your beauty is boundless
Your charms are countless
Lady, you are wondrous to behold!
Dua Het-heru, Victorious Eye of Ra, Mother of Mothers
Dua Het-heru, Glorious One of Many Names
Dua Het-heru!
I have watched the moon rise over blue-white mountains
and the sun set in a pool of glittering fire
yet still you are most beautiful
I have listened to water falling through green canyons
and thunder quaking in the bruised sky
yet still you are most beautiful
I have tasted cold, clear water fresh from glacial streams
and ripe blackberries warmed in the sun
yet still you are most beautiful
I have smelled the sharp salt scent of low tides
and the perfume of apple blossoms on the wind
yet still you are most beautiful
I have touched the rough bark of ancient redwoods
and stones formed deep in the earth’s core
yet still you are most beautiful
yet still you are most beautiful
I flatter myself to imagine you stalk the halls of my mind
cutting the throats of my better angels and lesser demons
until only you remain, a virus on a throne
the crescent moon shining on your brow
and gleaming in your hand
Our hearts are one, Mother!
When I rejoice, you rejoice
When you mourn, I mourn
When I am wrathful, you are enraged
When you are joyful, I am delighted
Our hearts are one, Mother!
I tell three kinds of lies:
the lies he tells me that I know are lies
the lies he tells me that I do not know are lies
and the lies he tells me that he does not know are lies.
Can you tell them apart, dear reader?
No, sometimes I cannot either.
