… This way comes!’

***

Up high among the hilltops a lone figure braves the weather,

Feet braced against a howling gale and shoulders hunched together,

The bitter wind and rain have dogged his footsteps every mile,

The trademark headgear veils his face… “Not just a hat, it’s style.”

You’ll find him where the mysteries lie hidden in the heather,

A Little Grub behind him as they traipse the land together…

Within the English countryside, there’s something feral lurking,

He’s questing for the perfect pint (though says that he is working);

“It’s research, Wen!” he will protest, if challenged on his mission,

As yet another ‘Special’ adds to knowledge by attrition.

A thread like Ariadne’s winds through all his perorations,

So tread the maze beside him as he seeks for explanations;

For hidden in the riddle of the symbols and the sites,

The diligent explorer may just find a ray of Light.

For wisdom flowers at his feet with understanding growing;

Come walk the heart of Albion, and seek the dawn of Knowing…

***

***

The iconography of the ‘Beheading Game’ too, now appears to be full of double-blinds.

The head it seems in this respect is to be regarded as a microcosm for the body.

The mouth is analogous to the genitals, the nose, to the stomach and the forehead to the chest.

The spiritual heart referred to in the esoteric literature lies not in the chest but in the head.

The Chinese alchemists and mystics were more than well aware of this.

It is possible that they were among the first of the younger races to re-discover it.

Their ‘square inch dwelling in a square foot field’ is a precise enough designation though if we want to be circumspect we could add that this house, or dwelling, lies between the sun and the moon…

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