“Tell me, little man, is there reason for any season of joy for the poverty-stricken? Especially in the face of those who sicken with their greed and insatiable need for more and more material wealth, and rule the nations with imperial stealth, hiding behind corporation names, playing their economic games? At least in ancient days their ways were more open and honest; Pharaohs and Caesars had their barrows pushed through narrow streets of town and village for silver and gold to support the crown. They offered no apology for their gross ethnology; in their warped cosmology, they declared themselves incarnate gods … not frauds nor even flawed.” Ma’at held me by her side, tied by her arm, gazing out at distant pyramid amid dust and sand.
“Yes, there are far different kinds of darkness, surprising as that may seem, comprising an oxymoronic reality, but really rather banal, not surprising,” she looked at me and slightly smiled, lightly ran fingers down my back. “There is honest darkness, born of pride and ignorance, kept in stride by fools who rule with iron hand, and demand complete submission from their whole population … yet their reign is very plain, nothing to feign … or so it was so long ago, where you really rather belong.” Shocked look; balk at her talk; nonsense. Ma’at laughed. “Maftet already told you, you cannot hold your thoughts inside; they slide out of your mind as easily as your mouth; you cannot bind them from me, you see… But, yes, my dear, your heart and soul are near the days of ancient ways far more than this … this world of covert worlds where empowered cowards so overtly rule, but from behind masks to perform their tasks of cruelty with incredulity.”
She turned and pressed me close to her breasts, and with sweet incense-breath, eyes to eyes where there’d be no lies, asked, “What would you rather: Genghis Khan of fearsome scourge, undaunted courage and physical brawn, who at least showed mercy to those who cowered and bowed in his presence and agreed to pay him obeisance? Or the suit-and-tie executive, who’ll not sully his hands when he can bully-by-hire, and lynch by his henchmen; who abides in tall towers and hides in lush office with plush furnishings?” Hands at the side of my head now fed with more truth; fingers gently brushing back my hair with fair look — sympathetic, empathetic. “As I told you before, though, all is not bad; all is not sad. Your heart is so tender for your gender, but that’s your splendor. So you need uplifting by shifting of our focus, am I right? Of course,” she laughed. “Yes, in the sight of truth, I’m right; that’ my greatest might … so I’ll comfort you like lover to succor your soul.”
Ma’at sat down, gave playful pat, and pulled me into her lap, resting my head upon the boulder of her shoulder. Sky hole with swirling clouds again appeared, twirling through the world till we neared some poor scene of huts and hovels, mutts and smuts; scarcity of food and crude-dressed people. Among this rabble and all the babble two foreigners stood… “You know of these two; their names and faces have won acclaim round the globe as they travel in charity, and live to give.” My head nodded in recognition and appreciation. “They provide food and clothing without loathing; proposing better plans for farming without harming the earth; building homes and schools, supplying tools; constructing streams and pools of clean water for mothers, fathers, sons and daughters. They help and adorn without scorn, for they have borne the responsibility of their blessed ability to do so much more than merely score another profit on the harlot market.” I smiled somewhat wild with joy. It couldn’t be helped or held back; it was like an attack of happiness overcoming my sadness.
“You see, my dove, there is still love in the world; yet, too, you must know the world has changed, been rearranged by strange dæmonic mange. There was in ancient times when right was right, and wrong was wrong, and ne’er a song was otherwise sung. Now so much has been turned inside out and upside down, where wrong is right, and right is wrong, and the song sung is discordant and mordant.” Instinctively, very distinctively, my arms tightened round Ma’at and would not lighten the grip. “Ah, my child-lover, hover here and don’t despair; send evil Moros back into the air! There is hope in the world — have you not been shown? have you not known? — and selfless Elpis visits especially the destitute and poor to shore up their spirits within the limits of their lives, minute by minute … and most of them are really not torn and so forlorn as you might think! At what seems to you the brink of despondency they drink from a cup of peace of which the rich know nothing!”
“Then all is not lost in the wicked frost that covers our world?”
“No, my dear, and that I will show you…”
Note: First image from goddessofthemonth.mystaiofthemoon.com; second image of Ma’at from www.ravenmoondesigns.deviantart.com