The Journey of the Ogboni Initiate

Having crossed the threshold, would I be gifted with my own edan ogboni, brass and iron shaped as a man and a woman, children of Earth,  constructed through a rigorous technical process suffused by exacting ritual, ensouled  by an intelligence that may come and go from the edan, bound to me for the span of my life, a personal guide, knowledge gathering agent and confidante?

Why ha​ve​ I joined this group  of esoteric masters? Why h​ave​ I become one with they peering into otherwise impenetrable depths of existence, zones of palpitating darkness, where unseen things come and go between dimensions?

I am here because I am hungry. 

I am hungry for that  beyond what eyes can ordinarily see,  ears ordinarily hear, the hand ordinarily touch.

I am here in search of awo, the forces shaping existence, of which less can be said than is known, of which silence is often the most eloquent testimony, of which words about it are broken pots pointing to a harmony inexpressible.

I am here because I can no longer be fed  by the life of the multitude.

I have become a pilgrim, a stranger on the earth, seeking that not made by human hands, constructed  by nature in invisible majesty, pursuing those things which do not appear but from which are shaped things which are seen.

I am Ogboni.

Shown above is Edan Ogboni, our primordial ancestors, travelling through us across time and space.

The beard of power majestic, held by man and woman, the staff of authority,  carefully clasped, the genitals of ultimate  creativity prominently but delicately displayed in a gravitas priestly and elevated, the seated immobility of they, ancient yet perennial, resonating in potent waves...taking thought beyond the vehicles of thought that succeed each other within time, O master of  Konigsberg...what more may be said about that  enabling quickness of mind and vitality of body, most intimate but unknown, the mystery  within and yet beyond?

We are Ogboni.

Note:  Any direct relationship between this piece and the experience of anyone living or transitioned is not intentional.

Experience the numinous essence of this experience on Twitter.