Sekhmet’s Love.

When I came into being, I came full of love. I don’t mean that I was aware of the love of those around me; I don’t mean that I was enamored with them —

What I mean to say is this: imagine that your entire existence is joy and love. I lived in a moment of ecstasy, illuminated in song and wild gladness by my Father, upon Whose brow I rested. Imagine you live there, in perfect peace, unfettered prosperity, dwelling with the gods and watching over mankind. I enfolded them in myself, in my mirth and my affection, and they gave us their love in kind.

Then one day, mankind grew discontent. They spoke cruelly, calling my Father feeble. My Father grew troubled. I am my Father’s Eye through which He sees; I am a part of Him and He is a part of me and oh, how foully their offense filled Our ears! Imagine, you are nothing but love, now confronted with hate.

My Father is wise. He is powerful. He came to me, His beloved one. He told me of this trouble. I am love and nothing else, and he spoke to me of their hatred, their treason, their unbelievable disrespect. He told me that in the starry sky, He saw that I would help Him. Weeping, I rose and turned against mankind, the noisy children whom I loved. Imagine this.

My love grew teeth and claws. My love rose up within me, strong and hot. My love burned me like the desert, so I let it out as rage. My sweet, small children; my beloved ones. My dearest Father, shining and glorious. Love and bitterness swelled within me, and I killed. I killed the men who threatened my Father. I killed those who heard their wicked words. I killed their wives, their husbands. I killed for my Father, and when the blood of His every enemy had been drained – I was blind. I killed their sons and daughters. I killed their mothers and fathers. My Father! I killed to keep Him safe. Perhaps I killed because the love of blood had overtaken my love for men. Perhaps I killed because it had overtaken the pain of rage.

Perhaps you have felt love so great it wounds you. Perhaps you have felt love so powerful it moved you to anger. Perhaps you have been afraid to lose what is beloved. Then, you might know why I killed. Then, you might know why the Lady of Joy turned to the Lady of Terror. I am love, hot and mighty within you; fierce love, love strong enough to kill for.

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