(location: Egypt, no date established)
Now I can see the entrance, there is a little path from which the sand has been removed, I realize the Pyramid is partly covered by the sand which made it look smaller. It must have been built in very remote times, as its steps are deformed by the erosion. One of its walls is directly facing the sun which suggests me to be oriented with the Cardinal Points.
Without solution of continuity I found myself within the Pyramid. It is a large room summoned in the shadows. The walls are totally covered by a tick black layer of dust and smoke everywhere, even the floor, exception made for a narrow path where it had been brushed out.
I´m giving my back to the entrance, so the sunny wall of the Pyramid is at my right. So at my right I see among the shadows a large number of Boats of Horus, they must have got out of use hundred of years before and abandoned there, the closest to where I am are bigger and looks of relative recent fabric, of painted wood and about two meters long, but the older, equally covered by the same dust, looks quite primitive, just bunches of steams and some piece of wood, and are noticeably smaller then the other.
On the opposite side of the room, a stone pathway descends in the depths of the Pyramid. The deep silence of the place is broken by the sound of feet walking on the stone floor, so I turn towards the entrance to see the new comer.
My heart jump with delight! Is the same Pharaoh of few days before, I appreciated a lot his person and was worried to have lost (akashic) contact the previous time, and I am immensely glad to see him again! He do not seem to perceive me, so I look at him openly while is approaching.
Poor Pharaoh! He is aged now, and walks slowly, but his head...is firmly looking in front of him.
He doesn't have any sign or symbol of his status, he wears an old cloth and is bare feet, his head perfectly shaved. Astonishingly enough, demonstrating to me the great humility of the Pharaoh, the cloth seems the only thing he possess. I know it is a secret language to the Great Doer admitting his own littleness, and assuming himself as the last of the server.
The Pharaoh is indeed a great figure and I´m moved in perceiving the greatness of his heart.
While he advances he gets out of the pathway reaching the Boats of Horus close to where I am. If I want I can touch him, but still he seems not perceiving my presence. He looks to the boats for a long while and me too with him. Really that boats are representing the steps in the evolution of their culture, from a nearly shepherd's to a more cultured and artistic expression.
A priest shaved-head and but a small orange tunic till is knees, is somehow heavily taking is way down the stony depths. It is evident he has not make any renounce as the Pharaoh, his belly wrestling with the tight tunic deletes his predilection for food and soft life.
He has a bowl with water into his hands and is followed by a little group of adolescents which orderly form a file behind the priest.
They are totally naked but for a little perizoma and the whole of their body is painted in lively colours with big flowers and green leaves. Each of them is carrying green leaves and freshly recollected flowers of different kinds.
The priest do not even salute the Pharaoh, instead, a moment before he disappears in the depths, he turns towards the elder expressing with his eyes a deep resentment and a clear opposition, together with a sense of petulant superiority. Then he disappears followed by the youths with their nice ornamental drawings.
The Pharaoh has not moved at all, totally absent to the little procession evidently directed towards an inner sanctuary. But it seems as the eyes of the priest have launched a poisonous arrow, as I see him suddenly vacillate and hold himself by the boat, and there, as appeared from nowhere, the therapist of the previous vision is there as well, holding his Master avoiding him to fall into the boat. The therapist is older as well, he looks now on his fiftieths, head shaved as always and wearing a little tunic but this time is yellow with drawings of flowers on it. It must be a special seasonal recurrence for the large presence of flowers.
The man is thinner then the last time I meet him, and I can see in his eyes a deep devotion for the elder and a great concern for his health, but I seem to read as well, in a corner of his eyes, the unavoidable next disappearance of the great Pharaoh.
...................
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