Invoking the Presence and Conversation of the Holy Guardian Angel.
Eld Religion. Magicks. Philosophy.
Do I then bring an ending, after an hundred years, to Crowley's Age of Horus: Thelema. The Word of the New Aeon is like a star shining in the dark night. The Word is Aelinor Rasa.
The Aeon Rasa is a map. There is route and destination.
We begin by finding the centre of balance. The centre is not the destination. It is the starting point. It is the pulse. We aim to resonate with and echo the pulse.
The pilgrim wanders the gloaming labyrinth, and its passages are set with traps and obstacles. Strange daemons and monsters are guarding the path. He does not seek an escape from the labyrinth, because beyond the walls of its maze there is only void and death. He must press onward. At the labyrinth's centre is the well of pure clean waters, and a door.
Is the labyrinth a place? Is it marked on the map?
Crossing the threshold of the door is to step out into the wilderness realms, where Gods and angels and devils abide.
There is no turning back now that we are here. Momentum pulls us
on into elsewhere. Now shall we reap that which we did sow.