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  • Writer's pictureMandella Green

2.6 WHY EGYPT? With special guest, Jared Rubalcaba


If you are interested in traveling with us to Egypt, please visit:
We have a few spots still open for January 2022! There is also one other tour planned for October 2022.

(JARED on site at Philae.)

Jared is a wonderful instructor. If you are interested in learning more about Egypt and the truths found there, I highly recommend Jared's course as the perfect starting point.

For more information about his class, ESOTERIC EGYPT, or to register, please visit:


As a thank you from us, LISTENERS OF THIS PODCAST GET 25% off!!!

Please use code: REFLECTINGLIGHT at the checkout to receive this special pricing!!!


HORUS AS THE HAWK AT EDFU

HATHOR, The Mother, NOURISHING THE KING OR INITIATE


The Initiate (HNM)

by Melonie Cannon


The eye of Horus blinks, the dark Ibis bows its thin beak, a black beetle scuttles across the red granite threshold, and the sun bursts over Egypt as life into a tomb, a gasp of light and warmth in the alabaster jar of a hazy sky illuminating the ancient way for travellers.

Hathor, will you accept my thrown up arms? Will my song mingle with the breath of queens? The kiss of my steps be felt on the pavement stones of Dendera? Have I left behind the print of my soul as she has left hers – light as M’aat feathers- on mine?

Like lying my body gently into a stone sarcophagus I have descended into myself – a contemplative folding fan, space and time wrapping around me like the lapis and golden wings of Isis All I found in the crawling tunnel of my heart is another Sphinx’s riddle whispered into an echoing chamber.

Will I find Her in myself? Will I fly on the hot wind white scarf flapping as the wings of Pharaoh’s birds pushing against the nets that try to contain me? Will my face be a billowing cloth sail catching Her breath, a guide through the Nile of my life? May I be a golden bark rising and falling on the currents of deep waters making love to mystery with each dip of the oar?

Will my home be beauty as the body of Nut? My children the timeless columns of Abu Simbel? Will she open my mouth and my words become symbols – glyphs speaking through hands cool-pressed against carved stone?

Will the moon rise in my chest and cry out as an early morning Adhan, splitting the cold air? Hayya ‘ala – S- Salah! Hayya ‘ala – S- Salah! Hayya ‘ala – S- Falah! Hurry to the prayer! Hurry to salvation! Tongues set me free! Wake me from my honeyed sleep and set me to dance on the edge of the circumpolar stars! No more a painted papyrus crumbling into sand forgetting who I am, but a sun-disk, face to the dry wind and brightening sky, reflecting the Dawn.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE SHARING OF YOUR BEAUTIFUL POEM MELONIE!

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