Chris Youngblood October 3, 2024
I built my temple brick by brick,
Labored alone in the desert.
Finished one now on to the next,
A Neter for every struggle.
A King builds his kingdom,
And when he looks out upon the shores filled with sand and fire,
He knows that all is well, his great work not in vain.
The various pyramids and temple system
Erected through the spine, mixed with the elements and poured out onto matter.
These Structures built erect, sanded down and fine tuned.
Tested, molded, shaped and capstoned.
A King takes wisdom from the blood, sweat and tears and passes on to his people, who are ALL.
His devotion to the Way, the Tao, and his living within it and through it are his great work established.
He does not brag nor boast but is grateful for the work and the privilege.
The ones who have torn him down are the same ones who have built him up, both within himself and without.
He knows himself and his temple, a self portrait of the inner cosmos landscape.
And he is only beginning to build his Temple Kingdom.
He has not left, nor wavered, nor forsaken himself.
He has only gone deeper and greets the other side, walking through the beast while taming his passion.
Time comes and goes but the wonders within himself are timeless.
Past lives, failures, lessons all come to this moment, which flees if one pays attention too much.
Love of the craft of his life, smiling, laughing, the humor of the way.
An old man who laughs like a child, laughing for the first time.
Gathered together within himself, he walks through the pillars of his great sanctuary.
Where no one, no body and no thing exists. The infinite darkness of the Duat, in which he melts into.
Time does not exist here. The King has conquered death.
He walks out with the light, a floating torch passing on to his fellow man.
He is preparing the Way.