Over the Shemayim I write, of sages whose deeds
Built roads back to the source, from which my pen
Yearns to record trails of light shifting through the bark,
Bending through branches of the bioverse's frontier,
Up into a canopy so clustered with leaves of piety
That only His grace could have blessed with the
Fruits of knowledge. I speak of the kingdoms
Beyond, of ten tribes fixed on the continuum of
Existence, a famed emblem of the Zohar's hidden
Genius, crowned by the singularity of Israel's
Final destination. This is the unity, the nothingness
At the center, the airy realm where things
That were, things that are, and things to come
All converge in an atmosphere of peace.
The words ignite, the letters sing of release,
An eruption filters down through to the base,
Where all God's children begin their journey,
To dance before the essences, to call on their powers,
To design the starry factory whence souls
Churn in orbit, torn from destiny by the tree's
Divergent rites, imitating their deeds to perfection
Until they find their way home, back to the source;
Here, my glorious seat in the kingdom of Keter,
Jacob's throne among the fluxiform diasporas,
Adam Kadmon: the capital of divinity unveiled.
Down the body I begin, entering the realm of Atziluth,
World of Emanation, Empire of Thought, where
The Shekinah rule and Creation flows freely.
In the second world Chokmah, pure intuition flows
From the eminence of unity above the head,
Shielding its canopy from the dimensions of self.
Unity splits to form polarities, opposing charges,
Separations from source, explosions of dynamic
Alternatives, ripping the singularity into a multiverse.
The first laws of Creation take form, Science
Carries the torch that wisdom alights, leaving
Blueprints in all the hidden kingdoms below. Here
The Artist is born, in the right side of the brain,
Able to represent all aspects of Creation with His
Imitations, His written word, His immaculate Torah:
The jewel from which I scribe all their addenda.
Across the cerebrum I glide, to the left side,
Where pure logic reigns, the principle of cause
Attaches to effect, polarities gather complexity to
Form trinities: the Library of Binah, second of the four
Worlds, where intellect derives from intuition, where
First self-awareness is felt. Here all beings on the map
Come to understand where they came from, where
They are going; all questions get answered by
Archangels on the faculty. Everything sprung
From Creation's wand falls into place in sequence;
A Mechanic of Matrices, an Unraveler of Strings, a
Decipherer of the Gematria, a Calculator of
Wavy Transforms, gathering these fruits to collect a
Compendium of codes that govern the elements
By each axiom of the Lord's principia.
Descending the ladder I sense a departure from the
Airy realm, into the warmer region of a lower rung,
Where stronger branches bear larger fruits, where the
Right arm takes the burden of action, bearing upon
Its palm a gathering of starlight. Dwellers of Hesed
Are the passionate, the merciful, the kind;
The empathy generated by their heat make hearts
For the coldest of souls, unaware of their losses when
They stumbled through the nether-lands. Quasars of
Compassion prime the organic reactor, a photogenesis for
Zadkiel's infinite benevolence. Here those are rewarded
For giving to others without expecting in return; the
Unconditional saints who loved their fellow men
Without terms, without limits; who smiled upon
The unfortunate and gave them the sustainability
They needed. Every act of kindness, which I
Record on a scroll never-ending, births a new
Star, a new planet, a new foundation for life to
Go on, for His grace to provide them who
Once questioned, yet learned they could not debate.
From the right arm to the left, I come to a
Narrower world, of turbulence and fire, of wrath and
Destruction, of what seemingly spells evil is only
Meant to illustrate divine intent. Spirits of justice,
Restraint and judgment feed the flames like a
Bonfire, practicing the benevolence of Chesed
Yet knowing when to yield; when the powers above
Contract their energies, magnifying the Torah
Into something finer, something less unconditional,
Something like a code of ethics to guide the foolhardy
Multitudes climbing the ladder from below.
It is a great thing, when wrath inspires goodness to ferment,
Laminating reality with a sense of purpose,
A progression for civilizations to emulate, a burning
Utopia in flesh and blood the idealists could never
Quite convince their brethren to believe. The stormy
Surface here is peppered with pools, able to boil up
The base ingredients from which life begins
Its turbulent march through history and survival:
Apocalyptic tides tearing through the ages of geology.
Steadily I lower myself diagonally to the solar plexus
That is Tiferet, the meridian sephirot from which
Others revolve in orbit, the balance of the body,
The center of Mass, the glowing Soul at the crossroads of
Zeir Anpin. Those who seek moderation find their place
Here; the ones who successfully balanced the right arm
With the left, who tamed the fire within
And not let it roar recklessly as the left would,
Nor burn out on the right. The synthesis is a model
For the healthy, the deeply spiritual, the miracles afforded by
Learning the trade, the beauty of opposing forces as
They mediate between the hexagon's Spiral.
A holy choir is heard in the formless voids between
Galaxies, that occupies the long silence held before
Stronger life blooms on the solitary branches extended.
The seventh plane divides the flame from water,
Welcoming consciousness into the fold, so stories
May be inferred from the action taking place above.
Life claims victory, evolution rings, the right leg
Lunges forward, beginning an eternity of movement.
Thought blazes through a web of abstraction,
Ideas bloom the essence of form, legions of concepts
Make it most suitable for the durable and the
Patient, stimulated by strength from Gevurah above.
All the wise know that what endures is what wins,
Guided in meditation by a calmness embalming Netzach.
Leaders of men live in palaces here, that they
May proclaim the triumph of achievement
Such esteemed exemplars of charisma deserve.
Now we come to the land of Hod, a thin metaphysical
Sheet embodying the dreams of man, as estranged
From the rest of the body as the forgotten left leg.
Desires forged into figures of fancy, of representations
The minds of sleepers attach to emotionally charged
Orientations, paint the landscapes of this realm:
A part of the atlas so subjective, and therefore so
Unexplained, that my pen couldn't possibly
Illustrate all the extensions of her boundaries.
Prayers from the victims of natural selection are
Made here, sometimes to be answered, but
The water is getting so thick that at other times
They can't be heard by the powers above.
Brushes of magic paint the dusky plains of
Astral Projection, fostered by muses bred from
The most amazing fantasies of those able to dream.
Beware, for the Empire of Imagination rests
Inhabited by a heavy population of tricksters
Practicing sorcery on unwary wanderers,
Who believe all they see on Malkuth and
Don't become aware before waking up.
At the base of the tree I approach the ends of creation.
The air is so thick here, making it difficult to move,
That it may as well be the bottom of an ocean.
Etheric beings welcome the deceased on this
Intermediary, between the spiritual worlds and the
Lone physical. Other beings aren't so helpful;
Those who don't wish to climb the tree
Or ascend their spirits are doomed to live here,
Searching for ways to recover what they'd lost,
Unless some blessed angel can finally reach them.
For all its quiet liquidity, Yesod is the locked body
At the entrance, a cornerstone of communication
Between Hod and his subjects. Voices tighten
The paralyzed, demons fight for re-entry,
Sexual warfare plagues the portals between
Sensation and release. The chaos of lustful energies
Keep some tied to the soil like some poisonous gravity,
While others are easily lifted through their purgatory.
The tenth of the spehirot has a substance of its own;
Matter, atomic energy, the forces of physics, all
Orchestrating the realm beneath the ground, that especially
Solidified underworld of fallen angels, champions of strength.
The game of possession is upheld; the laws of density,
Contact and chemistry carve the pathways of life, manifold
Like the roots of the tree growing under its trunk.
In this lowest of realms, the element of Earth
Keeps the body of Malkuth tied to the ground;
Everywhere there is material contact, vastly different
From the transparent realms of the Godhead.
This is where the tested trillions can start over again,
Drawing astrological energies from the sephirot above,
Executing actions according to their principal energies.
The end of existence buries itself here, in a land of rules,
Tests, passions unhindered, hellfire and brimstone;
Where liberty is praised yet rarely practiced.
The naked and the innocent are forced into the game's
Disillusionment, tearing apart the comfort of
Youth with a mighty protest from the Lord of Darkness.
The journey complete, I must ascend back up, through
The tenfold dimensions taken to reach the unenvious
Battleground of the spirit at the root of heaven.
Brave souls condemned to Malkuth, either by themselves
Or by God itself, are either the noblest of spirits or
The most hopeless. The climb is easy for an archangel
Like me, but for the confused masses of Malkuth in death,
It can be a terrible journey of confrontations, for in order
To rise through each branch, a spirit must identify and
Reconcile the cause which is keeping them there, and
Seek to reconnect with the vibrations above. No soul
Gets a free pass; we are all part of this systematic
Enterprise, detailed in full on the map I carry. And the
Bridges that bind us all are everything compared to the
Ones linking the metaphysical, each pathway to light
Aglitter with stardust decorating the Shemayim.
When we climb the ladder we go back in time,
Through the eons of struggle that life had conquered,
Through each stage in the process of universal
Consciousness, whose ultimate purpose is to rediscover
Itself after an eternity of searching
For the source that Keter's blast divided limitless.
