The Voice of Bast is Manifested in the Two Lands
There was a day when Darkness gathered Itself into a hungry snake and crawled upon the earth. On her belly she crawled toward the city of light, swallowing whatever lay in her path: men and women, beasts, plants, jewels, stones and all manner of living things. Know this, no thing that touched her lips escaped her, for all matter was lost into darkness. That was the day, or rather the night, that Bast left the starry skies where She walked and Danced and sought to take shape. She had a great Love for all things feline, seeing in them Her own Grace and Beauty. However, the great hunting cats had run in terror of the devouring snake and were not to be found, not even by Bast, Herself.
Curled up purring and sleeping was a small and rather insignificant little housecat. This nameless little creature opened her golden eyes, and seeing the Great One, blinked , and stretching offered her own shape to the Adored One. Bast, seeing this Offering, smiled and immediately took the generous gift and slipped into the form of the little cat.
To fool the snake, She then went to sleep under the leathery leaves of the laurel, holding in Her strength, stirring only once for a single languid lick of Her paws to brush against Her whiskers.
Seeing the cat....a tasty bit of flesh...the snake slithered over and opened its mouth. On the other side of her teeth swelled the great Void...the Abyss...The Great Nothing...and from it issued forth the dismal cries of all the lost things of creation. Their forlorn voices were a wailing wind that beckoned from the darkness.
Hearing this dreadful sound, the soul of Bast in the form of that small cat leapt up beneath the shade of the laurel and, with teeth of iron and gold, snapped off the head of the snake and sliced its body into a thousand pieces and swallowed them up. Blood from the snake's mouth spilled onto the ground. In that manner all of Nature's creations returned to Earth. The blood seeped into the warm ground and was taken up by the thirsty laurel, which burst into bloom with the souls of the dead in the shape of yellow flowers.
Leaning down from the Eastern edge of the Heavens, Thoth, the God of Words and Magicks had witnessed the battle. He, too, had felt each puncture of the snake's teeth upon His own throat and praised the cat which had given its shape to Bastis " How like the Goddess which made her is that radiant cat. How she slew the Darkness with her mouth!" Thoth whispered and Mau became the cat's name, and the God gave her words of power. In memory of that Naming, each time a cat speaks the Praise of Thoth is repeated..."maauuuu......meowwwwrrrrr"
Priestess Speaks
I have stood beside just such a laurel, its roots gnarled but still bursting with life....and I have gazed at the sky seeing daily the same battle. The sun rises, Light overcomes darkness and the high pink clouds of morning are tinged with the blood of the snake.
I am like that cat, overcoming my own darknesses. The soul duels fear and doubts and inertia, for these are the children of the snake, the worms hidden within the clay of our being that would gnaw us to death even while we live. I am that cat. I stand up and fight. I struggle with the petty wickedness of my own insistence and the prejudices I learned as a child. The battle of the Old Gods wages in me. I am a creature of history...human and divine. I am the scroll of numerous myths, one teller of a single story. I see myself by the light of my becoming. I am that cat beneath the laurel tree, dividing and conquering evil by refusing to submit to fear, lonliness and anxiety. I am the Guardian of my own creations, a creature of light striving for Light, battling ignorance, opression and darkness. I am the matter, the backbone of Gods......Blessed Be.
Bast Speaks in Her Own Words
It is true that fish stink. It is also true that the river is beautiful. However, the river would be beautiful despite the fish. What is noxious remains so.
That is not to say that shit is not useful when buried in the wheat field. Bread made from the field tastes sweet, wine from the arbor sweetest. All things serve a purpose, but that is no reason to glorify that which is abominable. People must watch where they walk and keep their sandals clean.
