Child, if you truly wish to die unto the ALL,
If this really be your will,
Wait till night and journey your way to edge of the jungle,
Where the shrub meets the grasslands,
And enter into the open planes.
Find your way to a spot of great openness,
No trees, no bushes, no brush,
Nothing to shelter you from the great black darkness,
Lay yourself upon the ground as if dead, in the sacrificial form of the cross,
Lay still, child, lay very, very still,
Let your breath be slow and it’s steam unseen,
And in time, should your sacrifice be true,
The great Lion will find your scent and make approach,
Slowly will the divine beast draw near,
Yet as he draws closer and closer,
The beat of his paws upon the ground will be to you as rolls of thunder,
Your pumping heart will strike the note of his stride until they beat as one,
And you will feel his hot breath upon you.
Be not afraid, child,
As the great Lion lays his fangs upon your throat and his paw upon your heart,
And waits for one more word,
He seeks your consent, one last final ‘Yes’,
Before he takes you.
Whisper not that ‘yes’, child,
For it is the word your whole being has waited aeons to speak,
Cry it forth from your heart with every inch of lung and sinew of flesh,
So that the whole jungle may hear,
And be consumed, smiling and unafraid.
And as blood to the heart of the great Lion you will flow,
To circulate as Life through its dark empty centre,
Breathe, and be not surprised, child, to once again find the jungle in that point of
For it is his Will that you stride as he within the perfect kingdom of his being,