Rune Rita (Raido)

Coming into my memory in these instants are scenes of a previous reincarnation of mine during the Middle Ages.

I was living in Austria, in accordance with the customs of that epoch. I do not deny that I was a member of an illustrious family of aristocratic rank.

In that epoch, my people, my lineage, were very conceited about matters of royal blood related with rigid ascendancy and notable ancestry.

I feel ashamed, yet I must confess (and this is what is critical in this matter) that I also was engulfed within the bottle of those social prejudices, the matters of that epoch!

The Divine Mother Kundalini

Oh, ineffable Muses!... Inspire me. Here shall your excellence reveal itself so that my style does not detract from the nature of this matter...

Oh, Divine Mother Kundalini!... You are Venus, Lady of mine, You are Heva, Isis, Sophia Achamoth, Parvati, Uma, Tonatzin, Rhea, Cybele, Mary, or better if called Ram... Io.

Oh Devi Kundalini! You are Adshanti, Rajesvari, Adonia, Insobertha, Tripursundari, Maha-Lakshmi, Maha-Sarasvati.

By all means, without thee, oh adorable Mother, the manifestation of prana, electricity, magnetic force, molecular cohesion, and cosmic gravitation is something more than impossible.

The Forge of the Cyclops (Sex)

When Venus, the Divine Mother Kundalini, begged for help from Vulcan on behalf of her son Aeneas, She taught with it the clue of the realization of the Innermost Self.

The Goddess said:

“Listen to me, you who forge the indomitable iron with the fires of the center of the earth! When the citadel of Troy was being ravaged in war by the kings of Greece, it was owed to Fate and was doomed to fall in the fires lit by its enemies, but I asked for nothing for those who suffered. I did not call upon the help of your art to make arms for them.

“You yielded to Thetis, the daughter of Nereus, you yielded to the wife of Tithonus when they came and wept to you. Look at all the nations gathering. Look at the walled cities that have closed their gates and sharpening their swords against Aeneas to destroy those I love.

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Rune Kaum

A long time ago, in the profound night of the centuries, there in the continent of Mu or Lemuria, I knew Javhe, the fallen angel who was spoken of by Saturnine of Antioch.

Certainly, Javhe was a venerable Master of the White Brotherhood, a glorious Angel from previous Mahamanvan-taras.

I knew him; I saw him when he was a priest and a warrior among the people of Lemuria. Everyone loved, adored, and venerated him.

The Hierophants of the Purple Race granted him the high honor of using armor, crest, helmet, shield, and sword of pure gold.

This warrior-priest shone as a flame of gold within the thick, sunny jungle.