Queen Moo's Talisman: The Fall of the Maya Empire

								

The seer watched, its purport to reveal.
What promised he—of what did he then warn—Could
she evade the fate foretold that morn?
For house of Can he prophesied defeat,
Through dark revenge its overthrow complete;
By jealousy brought on, and Móo its source,
Tho’ blameless she, herself bereft of force.


Then back to Cay’s sanctum both returned,
Móo’s heart oppressed by much that she had learned.
This mood the Sage rebuked and bade her hear
His words: “Dear child, thy path lies straight and clear;
Whate’er may hap, no thought of wrath outsend;
This breedeth ill and nothing doth amend.
In spite of many wrongs thou may’st endure,
Of fame this oracle doth thee assure.
’Twould seem a jest to bid thee do aright,
For man, alas! is in a woful plight!
He gropes along in quest of Wisdom’s ray
And, ever seeking, often goes astray.
In noble deeds exert thy human might;
Let acts of kindness be thy best delight.


To give advice for all life’s days who dare?
Can one foresee what pitfall may ensnare
Thy feet in paths where thou art bound to tread?
But come what may, thy soul must nothing dread.
Hate’s sting fear not; if thou no hatred give,
Its venom reacheth not what shall outlive
All trivial griefs and wrongs, thyself divine,
Bring what life will, let not thy soul repine.
Aid those who seek thy help; there is no joy
Surpassing this, unmingled with alloy.


We know that conflict is a law of life,
For matter feeds itself by constant strife;
The Will Eternal maketh this decree;
We feel results; the why we do not see.
The Heart of Heaven, throbbing with thine own,
Knows ALL IS WELL. The Infinite alone
Embraces all, and ever lures us on
To blissful rest where all return anon.
In paths of doubt and fear all onward go,
But knowing little, waver to and fro.
At times disconsolate, men yet aspire,
Labor and sigh for bauble they desire;
For riches, joys and honors, they contend;
But on the funeral pyre these all must end.
Let thy wish be to find the highest gift,
The Light Divine, ’t will ever thee uplift.
When grief shall rend thy heart, seek thine own soul;
Shut out life’s din, and find that sacred goal.


A talisman I give thee—jadeite green,
’Twill ever lend thee intuition keen.
Its wearer may with love herself surround,
For with attractive force it doth abound.
Would one deceive, and traitor prove to thee,
His mind with this thou wilt quite plainly see.
Thro’ centuries this talisman can bind
Two souls—desiring this, the way thou’lt find.
But keep it sacredly for thee alone;
If thou lose this a foe will seize thy throne.“
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II.

  The daughter of the Can was early wooed
By Aac, her brother, who with fervor sued;