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tracing brilliant curves of whimsical form, impeded me to distinguish the bottom of the hat,
and even the own hat. Fascinated for the spectacle, bewitched perhaps, I remembered
unintentionally the definition of the Alchemist Khunrath: are, he said, «Scintillae Animae
Mundi igneae, Luminis nimirum Naturae», i.e., «are igneous Sparks of the Soul of the
World, Lights that are evidenced in the Nature». Those scintillae always accompany the
stage of the Alchemy; and in that moment were present all the elements of the opus: in the
Nature’s Gabinet, was the raw material of the hearts; the aqua permanens of the Sulphur
Philosophorum; and was present in the Mercury, the great transmuter Artifex, it means,
Uncle Kurt Shivatulku, representavie of Wothan, which is Hermes, and Mercury.
Spining in a hypnotic whirlwind, the scintillae luminis went covering my view. Golden sparks,
sprouted now from everywhere and furrowed the space until turing off, as if the entire Nature
would be entertained manifesting the lumen naturae. I aparted the sight from the mushroom
hat and the carafe of acid, invisible under the bright slope and, semi-anesthetized, I looked
around: from the entire World seemed to emerge scintillae. From the house, from the ground,
from the tress that I didn’t see before, but that were erected at ten steps, from all things
emerged a golden and twikling aura, composed by myriads of scintillae luminis. Or such vision
meant the sudden activity of a new sense, which made possible to perceive the Anima Mundi, a
luminusitas sensus naturae?
But a major luminusitas attracted my attention. Over the corpses of the Asian killers, in fact,
two v clouds of extoplasmic vapour started to rise, also shining due to the emission and
absorption of thousands of scintillae; at one meter high, such clouds were still spinning in
spiral, and nourishing constantly from the milky vapour that emanated from the blood
puddles. As in a painting of the impressionistic school, as in a work of Enrique Matisse, I saw
the Reality decomposed in millions of points of colours, sparks of light that were spinning with
the form of the elementum primordiale and the massa confusa, of the chaos naturae. With
the vision saturated by the boiling of scintillae, I felt that inwardly, and irrationaly, a voice was
speaking to me; it said: «Yod, Yod, each scintillae is Yod, an eye of Avalokiteshvara»; «and
amongst all the scintillae there are two that are The One, are the scintillae ones, the
Monads of Bera and Birsha that cannot die».
Once chastened for what occurred in Santa María, I was just to hear the voices coming from the
Soul, of my own Soul influenced emotionally by the Great Mother, and remit myself to the
Virgin of Agartha. Yes: I closed my ears as I could, because I could not prescind of the grandiose
luminositas, and I gave myself to the rapture of the Virgin of the Child of Stone, whose
spiritual aid permitted me to sustain myself in such terrible moment. According to what
occurred next, I’d have lost the reason undoubtedly if She not supported my Spirit from the
Origin. Because in that moment, when the quantity and multiplicity of the scintillae had
reached its higher exaltation, all of them opened at once and showed an inexpressive eye,
an eye which was the same eye dementialy reapeated in all the points of the space. All
the Nature, all the differentiated things, all what I reached to see and perceive was boiling now
of inexpressive eyes, of fish eyes that undoubtedly were looking us: and those eyes of fishes,
de oculi piscium, were the Eyes of the Merciful One which were opened to contemplate
the Souls of her Beloved Children, the Souls of Bera and Birsha which were
disemboding in the midst of great terror.

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