#1934

Dua Wepwawet, Opener of the Way
Dua Wepwawet, Lord of the West and of Jubilation
Dua Wepwawet, He with Sharp Arrows, He Who Loves Ma’at
Dua Wepwawet, Shepherd of the Path, the Unique and Adorned One
Dua Wepwawet!

You whose domain is the in between places
the roads, the rivers, the rails
I ask Your protection as I make my journey.
Let no harm come to me as I travel to my destination
let no harm come to me as I return home again.
Lord, I sing Your praises!

You whose domain is all things in motion
the wind, the water, the world
I ask that You travel beside me as I make my journey.
Let my path be easy and my troubles light
let me return home safely so I may give my thanks to You.
Lord, I sing Your praises!

Dua Wepwawet, Opener of the Way
Dua Wepwawet, Lord of the West and of Jubilation
Dua Wepwawet, He with Sharp Arrows, He Who Loves Ma’at
Dua Wepwawet, Shepherd of the Path, the Unique and Adorned One
Dua Wepwawet!

[ A prayer for safety in travels, directed to Wepwawet, the Kemetic god who guards the ways of both the living and the dead. ]

#1891

I close my eyes and imagine a room. The whitewashed walls are open on three sides, the high ceiling supported by curving columns decorated in painted carvings of plantsĀ and leaping animals. Thin linen curtains blow in a breeze scented by lotus blossoms; as they move, the sunny courtyard with its pools and gardens beyond flashes in and out of sight. The floor is cool marble covered in thick, brightly colored carpets. A graceful bed shaped from dark wood takes up the one wall, and near it stands a matching table inlaid with mother of pearl. On the table sits a collection of delicate bottles, some glass, some stone, and some carved from pure crystal. The perfumes inside send their subtle scents into the air; myrrh, frankincense, jasmine, rose, lavender. Only one sound disturbs the peaceful silence. Like myself, others pass through this place, seeking its comfort for a momentary respite or for as long as pain needs to ease. Cat spirits sleep curled up on the bed and carpets, and stretched out on the stones outside in the hot sun. Their purring fuses into a lazy drone that rumbles through the very walls and floor, a sound more felt than heard. It is a wordless prayer of thanks and love; a call to rest and heal away from the hurts of the corporeal world.

And She is here as well, sometimes, in my daydreams: the Mother Cat, whom I am blessed to call Mother as well. This is Her room, Her quiet place of retreat to comfort, to mourn, to regain strength. I imagine She holds Her arms out to me and I sink into them like a young child (here we are all young, for we will forever be Her kittens). She holds me close as I cry for all the terrible injustices in the world. For Her children who suffer at the hands of my species; who live and die in factory farms, who are killed for sport and profit, who are discarded like inanimate objects. For the earth we continue to ruin in our greed, leaving behind a wasteland in which nothing beautiful can live. I know Bast cannot make these things go away – no deity, no matter how powerful or determined, can undo the whole extent of man’s wrongs. But Her comfort and shared sorrow feed the little flame of Hers in my chest and give me enough strength to go back out into the world and fight. When I imagine how many of Her children are suffering right this moment, hurting and dying without ever knowing the kindness of a human bond, the truth crushes me. But She helps me instead to remember those of Her children whom I have touched, each little ember that grew into a flame and has a chance, now, for a life of love. She reminds me of what I have given, what I still have to give, and of how many are in need. In this room, She lends me the strength to face another day, to make whatever difference in this world I can.