The Equinox (Volume I, Number IV)

THE EQUINOX So for zons three hundred and twenty and five did they labour with all their might. But the crack was not diminished by an hair’s breadth; nay, it seemed bigger than before—a very gape in the womb of the Universe. Crestfallen, Kamael the mighty returned before the Great White Spirit, his serpents drooping behind him; and they grovelled before the throne of that All-powerful One. He dismissed them with a short laugh, and a wave of His right hand. If He was disturbed, He was too proud to show it. “This,” he said to himself, “is clearly a matter for Elohim Gibor.” Therefore He summoned that divine power before Him. The crown of Elohim Gibor was Space itself; the two halves of his brain were the Yea and Nay of the Universe; his breath was the breath of very Life; his being was the Mahalingam of the First, beyond Life and Death the generator from Nothingness. His armour was the Primal Water of Chaos. The infinite moon-like curve of his body; the flashing swiftness of his Word, that was the Word that formulated that which was beyond Chaos and Cosmos; the might of him, greater than that of the Elephant and of the Lion and of the Tortoise and of the Bull fabled in Indian legend as the supports of the four letters of the Name; the glory of him, that was even as that of the Sun which is before all and beyond all Suns, of which the stars are little sparks struck off as he battled in the Infinite against the Infinite—all these points the Great White Spirit noted and appreciated. This is certainly the person, thought He, to do my business for me. But alas! for five, and for twenty-five, and for sixty-five, 206