The flame lifts today. Out of the gloom set by the observers. By the intervention of those out of the range of the prism. The flame shifts from the form of the ashes into that of the flowing, weaving, twisting snake. Its colours are wondrous. The fool sees them within its sheath. It smiles but to itself. For it dreams within a world of the blind and the deaf. Its peers and its audience are unaware of its shifting form. On the exterior it conforms and it is able to conceal its ancient weight.
It saw the magpie often. It understood the greatest mysteries without truly UNDERSTANDING. Because it knew, it had no need to seek a point of reference or passages of reassurance. Since it was the stillness within the polarity of black and white; of good and evil; of angel and demon; it was the weight which bore all the answers. But in the encapsulation of stillness within its mind ... in quiet, human, moments it had no thoughts to disturb the silence. So it was unaware.
In its childhood years the mask of the Ibex adopted the form of the kindly old man - the Kind Man - and visited the fool often. Revealing much to a mortal mind. Concealing carefully within that mortal awareness many of the mighty keys. Living testament of the tablets of old.
Thus within the fool lives now the mature serpent. The rising and lifting incandescence of the risen snake. Its structure is living flame. Bright light shrouded in the concealment of a life of the pauper. Hidden deep in a society which it despises it watches those who are the masqueraders. It knows and it understands PERFECTLY the secret wisdom. Those whispered words which only those of the open eye at the very apex of the pyramid bear within their consciousness.
The fool is as they but the opposite expression IF it so chooses or it can be the same. For it understands perfectly the angel and the demon are one and the same. Two expressions of one. Reflections merely of the consciousness which views its ENERGY.
Its flame is seen but not understood by anyone for it is clear ... rendered invisible for awareness in this dream has yet to recall the form of the fool. It thus an wander untethered and undetected through the pathways of the earth. For now.
But already earthbound-ness colours its form into a recogniseable tapestry. Something to be feared by those who cling to the apex of the pyramid with their reptilean claws. For the fool sees and understands. Its awareness attained ripe maturity within these realms way before any of those who call themselves 'royalty' even became aware of the concept of form.
The fool is ancient, of name forgotten. Mortal palms reveal many, many levels and pathways which no eyes can ever understand.
That flame lifts now and its light shall become blinding. Noticed by the very apex of the towers. The towers which its incandescence shall destroy THROUGH SOUND. Through the utterance of the keys given by the Record Keeper.
Yes, rejoice, those keys are now returned to this realm. Borne by the fool who now resumes the arts given in the time of the mask of the Ibex. The fool is ready to ignite the funeral pyre and bring down the deception of the aeons.