08-25-2012, 12:00 AM
The Twenty-One Abstract Cores
At the heart of the Toltec teachings, and contained within the ancient memory banks of Toltec seers, are twenty-one ideograms that encapsulate the essence of the Toltec legacy. These ideograms are exceedingly complex by virtue of their profound simplicity; an expression that renders them utterly abstract, and therefore all but impossible to transcribe into verbalisations. As a result these ideograms are simply termed the twenty-one abstract cores, a faint reflection of which can be found by the serious and deep-thinking student in the deeper esoteric meanings of the twenty-one jewels of awareness.
The poem below was written by Théun Mares in order to assist his apprentices to find this reflection. Théun chose the medium of poetry, for this medium lends itself well to the feelings that are generated whenever one is exposed to the Toltec teachings for the left-side.
The Twenty-One Abstract Cores
Twenty and one there are,
In both the beginning and the end.
Twenty are the two rings rare;
Each set with ten stones to mend.
Nineteen is of essence gold;
The laughter of joy filled years:
Eighteen of liquid silver,
The tears of nightmare years.
Seventeen warriors enter the field;
The two urns bring their final separation.
Then a trailing blaze they leave, one fiery shield,
For sixteen hath brought the stroke of liberation.
Fifteen is the wayward shadow haunting,
Horned, hoofed, cursed and feared;
Fourteen the bright mysterious Angel daunting,
Measuring an angle new, destiny also feared.
Thirteen moves with measured pace,
A silent witness for the final dance.
With head low in earth and feet in space,
Twelve hangs awaiting patiently his chance.
Eleven, raw power born of the search,
The dream of man and beast.
Whilst turning and turning upon Ten they perch,
Beast sniffing his distant humanity, man his deeper beast.
Nine pauses to sound the fatal knock upon the door,
Setting the shadows aquiver with his light.
But Eight unmovingly holds sword and scales to the fore,
A blinding, confusing display of might.
Seven marks the beginning of a journey bold,
Far and wide, vibrant; spirits high,
Now hero having taken the decision made of old,
Struck in Six by Fortune’s arrow from on high.
Five heralds the great challenge,
How of the two to make one?
Four has conquered this the challenge,
But his silence offers answers none.
Three rules the realm of abundance untold,
In brilliant glory, awesome, breathtaking;
Slowly, silently, it unfolds as it was foretold
By Two in whose word there is no mistaking.
One now stands in the circle’s centre,
Fulfilment of the Dreamer’s dream.
Raising wand, he bids the fearful forces enter,
With flashing eyes and piercing scream.
Then from inside the circle, and beyond,
From all around, the great forces gather around the One
Spiralling, echoing across the vast pulsating frond
Of time and space, in obedience to the One.
Suddenly the attention captures
A whole new sound crystal clear;
Cheerful, luring laughter ruptures
Forth from far and near.
He who has no fixed abode nor course defined
Salutes his brother in the centre with joyous glee.
"At last," he shouts, "You have your arts refined,
And so my brother, I need you no longer flee."
"Hark, brother! For the first ring you hold is everything:
From liquid silver tis true your creation will begin,
But greater still your power within the golden second ring.
So the circle ends O mage, and ending thus you now begin.
At the heart of the Toltec teachings, and contained within the ancient memory banks of Toltec seers, are twenty-one ideograms that encapsulate the essence of the Toltec legacy. These ideograms are exceedingly complex by virtue of their profound simplicity; an expression that renders them utterly abstract, and therefore all but impossible to transcribe into verbalisations. As a result these ideograms are simply termed the twenty-one abstract cores, a faint reflection of which can be found by the serious and deep-thinking student in the deeper esoteric meanings of the twenty-one jewels of awareness.
The poem below was written by Théun Mares in order to assist his apprentices to find this reflection. Théun chose the medium of poetry, for this medium lends itself well to the feelings that are generated whenever one is exposed to the Toltec teachings for the left-side.
The Twenty-One Abstract Cores
Twenty and one there are,
In both the beginning and the end.
Twenty are the two rings rare;
Each set with ten stones to mend.
Nineteen is of essence gold;
The laughter of joy filled years:
Eighteen of liquid silver,
The tears of nightmare years.
Seventeen warriors enter the field;
The two urns bring their final separation.
Then a trailing blaze they leave, one fiery shield,
For sixteen hath brought the stroke of liberation.
Fifteen is the wayward shadow haunting,
Horned, hoofed, cursed and feared;
Fourteen the bright mysterious Angel daunting,
Measuring an angle new, destiny also feared.
Thirteen moves with measured pace,
A silent witness for the final dance.
With head low in earth and feet in space,
Twelve hangs awaiting patiently his chance.
Eleven, raw power born of the search,
The dream of man and beast.
Whilst turning and turning upon Ten they perch,
Beast sniffing his distant humanity, man his deeper beast.
Nine pauses to sound the fatal knock upon the door,
Setting the shadows aquiver with his light.
But Eight unmovingly holds sword and scales to the fore,
A blinding, confusing display of might.
Seven marks the beginning of a journey bold,
Far and wide, vibrant; spirits high,
Now hero having taken the decision made of old,
Struck in Six by Fortune’s arrow from on high.
Five heralds the great challenge,
How of the two to make one?
Four has conquered this the challenge,
But his silence offers answers none.
Three rules the realm of abundance untold,
In brilliant glory, awesome, breathtaking;
Slowly, silently, it unfolds as it was foretold
By Two in whose word there is no mistaking.
One now stands in the circle’s centre,
Fulfilment of the Dreamer’s dream.
Raising wand, he bids the fearful forces enter,
With flashing eyes and piercing scream.
Then from inside the circle, and beyond,
From all around, the great forces gather around the One
Spiralling, echoing across the vast pulsating frond
Of time and space, in obedience to the One.
Suddenly the attention captures
A whole new sound crystal clear;
Cheerful, luring laughter ruptures
Forth from far and near.
He who has no fixed abode nor course defined
Salutes his brother in the centre with joyous glee.
"At last," he shouts, "You have your arts refined,
And so my brother, I need you no longer flee."
"Hark, brother! For the first ring you hold is everything:
From liquid silver tis true your creation will begin,
But greater still your power within the golden second ring.
So the circle ends O mage, and ending thus you now begin.