The Feathered Serpent Chronicles

These Chronicles are written in what I call Mythic Prose:

My fellow pilgrims, we present to you the Feathered Serpent Chronicles as a gift to help guide you in your own spiritual awakening. There are many paths up the mountain of truth and only you can determine the one that is right for you. Hopefully these chronicles will help you discover your true path, one that is based on love, not centered on fear. Life is a mystery with a multitude of enigmas that provide an open gateway to the exploration of meaning, not in a profane manner, but in a spiritual way of love and power. We are all spiritual explorers on an adventure to discover the perennial wisdom that has flowed through all of the past ages of humanity.

The enlightened age is coming, to be known as the Sixth Sun—the Return of the Feathered Serpent. At this moment in history, however, we are in the transitional times, the changeover from our current Age of the Fifth Sun to this new one of the Sixth. It is an interlude between leaving the dark of the suffering and entering the light of the enlightened; a time anchored in spiritual awakening, but fastened to the old regimes of power and money.

Many know the Sixth Sun as the Age of Aquarius, the next stage in humanity’s evolution. The symbolism of Aquarius is important. It is the archetype of the universal mystic, the seeker of truth, and is depicted as an angel—an immortal messenger—pouring water (consciousness) from an urn that is open at both ends. Its imagery signifies our human capacity to become one with the consciousness of the universe. It takes us beyond the egocentricity of the previous Ages and transports us to oneness of being, where we may directly access heavenly knowledge. It will be an Age of individualized religion, not dogmatic organized religion; a time to accept our divine side as well as our human side and to acknowledge our connection to, not separation from, all of creation.

We hope that what follows will be a stepping stone to bring you closer to your own truth and to provide further spiritual awakening during these transitional years. We are…

The Feathered Serpent (Dragon) Lord Regulus and Balamcoatl—the Morning Star[1]

The Awakening of Balamcoatl as the Morning Star

“Floating in that space between heaven and earth, I have a knowing of both. My soul’s power suspends as a star in the luminous web of Oneness. I am divine and I am human, a child of God and a brother/sister to all creatures of the earth. A moment is an eternity as this knowledge engulfs my heart. Is it a dream? But isn’t it all a dream? A scream and I awaken.”

As my eyes slowly open, the portals to my soul gaze upon the surreal scene before me. A face, beautiful as the dew glistening on a lily, is now frozen into a mask of terror. It had been her scream that had brought me back; on the other hand, had I ever left? In a language not my own, the shaken Keko was stammering over the words to her master, the wizard-priest Sakura.

“Forgive me… master,” said Keko. “I was afraid for him. His face was so red, just as the old texts portrayed. But the reality makes mere words pale in comparison; even when you are prepared for the possibility.”

This part of the cemetery contained few stone lanterns. Only dim light was thrown on the humans gathered together in front of the Great One’s mausoleum. The shadows, cased by what little light there was, heightened the mystical sense of wonder for the three, now drawn together as moths to a flame. The wizard-priest and his apprentice stood deathly still, surrounded by a silence that was deafening. Their questioning gaze centered on the one who would, in time, become known as the Morning Star. Surrounded by towering cedar trees, one could only guess whether it was night or day. But night it was, midnight in fact, a time of power; a time of opening between the worlds of matter and spirit.

This night, however, saw the presence of more than mere humans. In a reality far removed from the dreams of such beings, but as close as a drop of dew glistening in the dawn of a new day, moved the Plumed Dragon Lord named Regulus. Deep in observation and thought was he (or was it she?) of the messenger; incarnated once again as a human. But Regulus was not alone. Next to the dragon sat a Myoo—a Wisdom King. Surrounded by flames, this Myoo was called Fudo and was known to be the immovable one who would awaken a sentient being’s heart/mind.

As the massive underside of the dragon rose and fell, the breath of excitement and joy spread throughout the cluster of stars and worlds known on Earth as the Milky Way. Reaching Earth in a time of no time, the breath of Regulus brought storm clouds out of cloudless skies, stirred the oceans into a brief tempest of fury and created a bolt of dragon lightning that streaked over the mountain of the Great One. So bright, yet it lit up the sky only for an instant.

“Does his partner, the faerie one, have any inkling of who he is?” asked Keko, questioning in her mind the meaning of the unearthly bolt of lightning.

Speaking in the tongue of his own people, Sakura replied, “She may have a slight knowing. But as his wife, she sees his very human side. Her heart may know, but her mind will deny the truth—it would be too unbelievable.”

From a place of stillness, I silently watched the gestures and body language of the master and his apprentice; not knowing or in fact caring about the meaning of the words being exchanged. A moment ago, or was it an eternity ago? I was in a space of power. But no, I was the power. What does it all mean?

Six moons ago, while on a warrior pilgrimage—musha shugyo, my heart had brought me to this sacred mountain of the Great One. A coming home it was, from the first moment that I had breathed the mountain air. I had been here before; not in this lifetime, I knew, but in a previous incarnation.

“How do you feel?” asked Keko. As translator, she spoke my language while her Master did not.

“I feel awesome, powerful, but mystified,” I replied. “Was I transforming into one of the guardians that serve the Great One—the Daishi?”

“Well, yes… but no. You may look at it as a merging of energies. Energies that few humans could accept, much less survive. It is the first quickening of your Bodhicitta—your Divinity. The others who were here will deny what happened, out of fear and envy. We sent them back to the temple,” said Keko.

Her face was a canvas of shades, neither dark nor light. And her eyes were a sparkling tapestry of stars delicately etched within a bluish clad night sky. Sakura, on the other hand, was a vortex of power with eyes as dark as smidgens of coal. These eyes were not gazing on the beauty of Keko, but were intensely focused on Balamcoatl, the Morning Star. This meant the end of Sakura’s search for the prophet—the one who would bring the message. He had finally found him.

“The gateway between the worlds is still open,” said Sakura. “The energy of what just happened has vibrated through both worlds. The ones who still haunt this world have been awakened. Their attachment to materialistic life has kept them trapped on earth in death. Some of these specters increase their attachment to the earth through feeding on the life-force of humans. They are the ones who in life had darkened hearts, arrogantly valuing greed and materialism over love, family and spirit. They are the most dangerous of all the dead ones who still walk the earth; trapped between earth and heaven in a hell of their own making.”

A strange wind rattled and whistled through the darkened cedar trees as Keko translated Sakura’s words to me. The wind had come from the Northeast—the direction of demons.

Watching from the corner of the Great One’s mausoleum was a transparent form cloaked in rotting robes; robes that at one time would have been worth a king’s ransom. The specter’s hunger-filled eyes, if you could call them eyes, were centered on Balamcoatl; whose life-force was even more powerful than the other male human, the wizard’s life-essence. 

“You are very open, Balamcoatl,” said Sakura. “I must teach you a secret finger-intertwining and a spirit-shout.”

As soon as Sakura had finished his statement, he noticed an icy twitching at the base of his neck. The air coming from the Northeast was suddenly cold and damp. This meant the presence of a dead-one. Without hesitation, Sakura turned and with a wrathful look, he twisted his fingers into shapes resembling miniature swords. With both hands held in front of his chest, Sakura sliced through the air shouting a sacred phrase out of a timeless past—an archaic magic that few knew and even fewer still practiced.

“To-yā; To,” shouted Sakura. And with this, the specter was no more.

“My master says that we must leave now. We will be safer on the other side of the stream that separates the Great One’s Mausoleum from the rest of the cemetery. Once we cross over the bridge, Sakura will tell you more and teach you the magic just used.”

For a moment my mind flashed back to the moon month of the Virgin six years past. At that time I was exploring and seeking the Holy Cup in the Island Nation of the Dragon King. During an over-night respite, I had encountered a specter—a former monk who haunted the inn where I was staying. At that time I experienced an icy feeling just before seeing the glowing red eyes in my darkened room. It was the same feeling that I just had now. I wonder…?

In a some-what brief period of time, in another part of the cemetery, the three seated themselves on a centuries-old moss-covered bench: a resting place that had witnessed the endless passage of peasants, priests, monks, samurai and even Shoguns, all on their way to honor the Great One. Sakura taught Balamcoatl the ancient magic just used to disperse the evil one; an enchantment from a time no longer remembered. And now, all sat in silence.

Keko broke the stillness as her slender hand gestured to the path in front of them. “These cedar chips have felt the passage of thousands of my people on personal pilgrimages to honor the Daishi. Sakura and I brought you and the others here not only to honor the Great One, but to see if you were the one mentioned in the ancient texts.” 

The ancient texts… I was at a loss for words. I just sat there staring at the cedar-filled path wondering about the events that had just unfolded. The silence was deafening as no words were being spoken; even the winds were silent. Finally, I turned towards Keko and said, “What does all of this mean?” I let the question linger in the air, expecting a reply. But Keko just stared at me. No expression was visible, just her piercing eyes.

“Am I the one mentioned in the ancient scrolls? What does that mean? I’m just a simple spiritual seeker with a wife and two children.”

With a slight smile and a brief nod of her head, Keko said, “You are the one who Sakura has been searching for… the one mentioned in the prophetic ‘Plain of Heaven’ scrolls of the Sun Goddess. It is your destiny to bring a message to humanity. Sakura can tell you no more than this… except for one thing. You must seek out the Wizard of the Four Winds in the Land of the Condor.”

An owl cried in the distance while the wind kicked up. All of this happened, as sudden disbelief flooded my mind. It had been only two moons ago, during the month of the Ocelot, that I had been asked to join a pilgrimage to the Lost City. Supposedly it is located on a sheer mountain peak in the land that Keko had just mentioned. But how had Sakura known? Or had he? Could there be another explanation? Strange as it may seem, are unseen forces guiding my life?

Now that you have heard a bit of my tale, let me relate to you, my dear friend, the teaching chronicles of Lord Regulus.

Discover the complete Chronicles in JC’s forthcoming book The Return of the Feathered Serpent to be released late 2005/early 2006.