Mani, the Druid of Light,
Once upon a time, 'neath the elder tree’s ancient shade, was born a child who would dissolve the boundaries of night and day. In lands far southeast of our misty shores, within the cradle of Persia, lay Mani, a beacon destined for spiritual uproar. As a Celtic druid, we weave his tale—a story of cosmic unity, a narrative that would prevail.
By the divine auspice of Sulis, the Sun goddess, Mani received visions profound. A divine twin of light emerged from the East, bearing the wisdom of a spiritual battleground. A syncretic creed he was bestowed, fusing light and dark, young and old, a language new yet reminiscing of stories once told.
His wisdom echoed in the rustle of oaken leaves, an affirmation of the interconnected warp and weaves. As with the sacred hawthorn heralding the summer’s start, Mani's teachings bloomed in the heart. He attested a divine purpose in day and night's eternal game, each holding a place under the gods’ grand domain.
Mani's teaching was the murmuring brook, that animates the silence with wisdom took. He advocated for a life of compassion, love, and light. His message, binding the high heavens to the deep sea. Good and evil, light and dark, in the cosmos he left his mark. A rhythmic dance of duality, within each, ran the other’s reality.
His was the wisdom of the heron in the moonlit lake, reflecting on the world that our actions make. Insights, illuminating like the glow-worm in the night, spoke of the balance that upholds the world, strong and bright. He held the world as a sacred grove, where dual forces eternally strove.
Mani, upholding the lunar staff, journeyed far and wide along a challenging path. Through silk routes and caverns deep, his message did seep. He spoke in the tongue of zephyrs mild, and in the roar of tempests wild. His call was echoed by the druid's chants, resonating in the mystic’s trance.
In the heart of each druid, Mani's message sang. In the rustling leaves and rushing spring, in the heart of the flame, and under the moon's shimmering ring. He taught us to celebrate, for we can now be freed from our fleshy captivity; we will return to the great halls of the eternal summer lands. Where the great aeons sing in a great symphony; the bardic hymn of victory.
Unto the eternal mystery, Mani finally returned, but his wisdom remains, in our hearts forever burned. His life is the testament of the luminous creed, the cosmic duel of light and darkness, in thought, word, and deed. Reflecting Mani’s wisdom through a Celtic Druid lens, we realize, our unity lies beyond this earthly duality, for when the third age ends. Darkness shall lose its hold, imprisoned within a tomb of stone; its power stripped, impotent, unable to ever ascend again. For the victory is won, and this is the glad tidings Mani brings to all men. The Creed.
We dwell in the age-old forest, beneath the celestial sphere,
We, the followers of the manifold Path, faithful and sincere.
We, embrace the enduring wisdom of the Druidic Celtic realm,
Guided by both the oak's might and the tender elm.
We look to the East, the source of dawn's first hue,
Where the divine Sun reveals what the night once withdrew,
Bringing illumination, knowledge, and the birth of day,
The enlightening power, showing us the way.
Yet in the West, lies the comforting embrace of the night,
A realm of shadows, yet essential to our spiritual sight,
The lunar mystery, hidden wisdom and introspective space,
An equal portion of the divine manifold grace.
We comprehend the universe, as a dual-faced coin,
Of light and dark, entwined to join.
A balance of forces, a dance incessantly renewed,
Living, dying—an everlasting feud.
Evil, the principle of Darkness, fights the principle of Light,
A cosmic battle rages on, yet through the works of Christ, The Evil powers took the bait, And the shards of light once imprisoned; Now have the opportunity to escape, Upon the luminous ships, Jesus sets sail,
His course takes the light back; Up the great column of glory,
To the great Father of the heavenly Lights.
Thus, the radiant Sun and the obscure Moon do not wrest,
In Manichaean stance, we prostrate toward their direction,
Forever keeping our hearts and minds upon that luminous light.
For everything holds a place, has a role,
In the great wheel's eternal, unending roll.
So, we learn to roar with the wind, whisper with the stone,
Feel the pulse of the Earth, in water, marrow, and bone.
Under the endless sky, in this sacred night and day,
In unity and dualism, we find our way.
We are servants of the harmony, guardians of the All,
In nature's chapel, we heed the divine call,
We are Celtic Druids holding the Manichaean seed,
This is our testament, this is our creed.
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