LoveDance: Awakening the Divine Daughter. Deborah Maragopoulos FNP
cord. With each heartbeat, a fresh gush of my life force escapes. Archangel Gavriel offers silent guidance, but I am swiftly fading.
Unable to speak, I hold two images—one of Yeshua breathing for our daughter, the other of Leah kneading my womb. All is surreal, except the blood, which flows to the beat of my weakening heart. Before the darkness of incomprehension overcomes me, I hear a distant drumming herald in my daughter’s cry.
To Heal Self
Swollen by winter rains, the Nile runs thick alongside the Aksum king, the rays of the sun yielding to his ebony skin. His tribe keeps the divine rhythm—drummers for the dance of humanity. A spiritual guardian, Belshazzar sacrificed his place in the peripheral circle of benevolent drummers to step into the dance.
Just before the last new moon, the messeh queen gave birth to a daughter. Belshazzar’s tribe celebrated joyously. The sacred lineage will go on!
The dark Egyptian princess has come alone to meet him just south of Cairo. He embraces her warmly, “I have most joyous news, my friend. The divine dancers have birthed a daughter!”
Her unusually light eyes glow with delight as he lays the small pouch carrying the twin halves of elestial quartz in her hand.
“I shall keep these safe until the triad is complete.”
He nods and bids Eshe farewell. Covering her head with a turban, she mounts the waiting camel.Watching her ride north, Belshazzar reminisces about delivering the first elestial quartz to the husband of the messeh queen nineteen years ago.
The mountain called Tabor stood as lone guard to Nazareth ridge. To leave his beloved wife and his young son when the star first appeared three months ago was a great sacrifice, but the others waited.
“Hail, Belshazzar!” Aretas traveled with heavy guard. A caravan of eight camels and twice as many mounted men accompanied the Nabataean king.
“My friend, perhaps we should enter the village quietly.”
Hor, the young king of Tarsus, laughed heartily, “Yes. We are to pay homage to the prince of peace!”
“You did not have to pay tribute to Herod before entering Samaria!”
Concerned that the aged Nabataean alerted Herod, Belshazzar inquired, “Aretas, what happened in the palace?”
“After accepting four of my finest stallions without a word of gratitude, the mad Idumean dismissed me. My search for the child had been futile, so I took the opportunity to consult with the royal astronomers. They became quite agitated at my questioning. It took a Judaean shepherd to inform me that the child I seek resides in Nazareth.”
Under what duress did the shepherd reveal such information? What did Herod know about the babe?
“Come, Aretas, one camel is all that is necessary to bear your weight!” Young Hor turned his restless steed north and rode into the village.
Listening for the rhythm of the divine dancer, Belshazzar led them to the far western edge of Nazareth. Although the streets were quiet that early evening, the villagers would talk upon seeing such richly adorned visitors enter the humble cottage. A young man of regal bearing stepped forth to greet them.
“I am Joseph bar Hillel. What honor brings such renowned guests to my home?” In deference he addressed the elder Aretas.
“We have come to pay homage to the child born into the house of David.”
“My wife has borne me a son. How do you know of this? You are not Hebrew.”
Hor laughed, “The child shall bring peace to the world, not only the tribes of Yisrael.”
Gently, Belshazzar took the young father’s arm. “Prince of Judah, our seers have foretold of the birth of your precious son. We ask that you accept our tribute.”
Blue eyes darkened with suspicion until Belshazzar pierced the veil of the Joseph’s mind to silently console him. After depositing their weapons at the door, they were escorted through protective mists which Belshazzar recognized as the hand of a renowned Druid master. They were taken into an inner sanctum adorned by a round altar set upon the intersecting triangles of the sacred masculine and feminine.
Joseph returned with his wife. Hor’s eyes appreciated the beauty of the fair-haired girl but it was the dance of light around Miriam that caught Belshazzar’s attention. Within her arms lay a babe. A wave of peace flowed from the child and the three kings bowed, heads touching the ground.
“Beloved Mother, I am Belshazzar, king of Aksum. It has been foretold in our lands that a prince will be born who will bring peace. We have followed the star to pay our respects to your son. This is Aretas, King of Nabataea.” The couple nodded to the gray bearded one before turning to the youngest man. “And King Hor of Tarsus. May we present gifts to your son?”
When Miriam gave her consent, he placed a carved box on the altar. The child cooed with delight. “Frankincense for sacred rituals in honor of your son’s priestly caste.”
“Gold for the infant king,” Usually a man of many words, Aretas deposited laden sacks upon the altar without further discourse.
Hor stepped forward with a linen bundle secured by golden tassels. “Myrrh, for your son shall be a great healer.”
Joseph bowed. “We are grateful for your recognition of Yeshua. May the Light guide you always.”
The young father offered them food as his wife excused herself. Belshazzar looked up to see Yeshua smiling over his mother’s shoulder. Although Aretas and Hor took their leave after the meal, Belshazzar accepted Joseph’s kind offer of lodging.
Late into the night he told the young father that seers predicted the boy would study with mystics in Egypt, Hindus, and the Himal mountains, but Joseph refused to be parted from his wife and child. "My tribe expects a legitimate heir for Yeshua was not born in the month of kings. I cannot leave my home and family, but prophesies continue to be fulfilled. Perhaps Yeshua is the mashiach who will unite the tribes against the Roman oppression.”
Belshazzar smiled kindly, “This child was sent to embody Divine Love, the one who shall bring peace to the world.” Joseph’s eyes still reflected his doubt. “When the time comes you will be guided to bring the child into Egypt. I will meet you in Alexandria and train the boy up with my own son. There are two mystics I studied with in my youth, one from the Himal range, a follower of the Buddha, his name is Zsao. The other is Reiti from Ujjain in the Hindus region. They shall come to Nazareth.”
From around his neck, he removed a small leather pouch decorated with the crown feather of a falcon. “Place this upon the child. It contains precious elestial quartz. I shall watch over Yeshua from afar.”
Before taking his leave on the third day, he bid the dancer farewell. The small pouch with the seer’s stone nestled in lion’s mane lay protectively at Yeshua’s waist. Holding the precious babe, Belshazzar was filled with light and love. “Welcome, my prince, may your dance into this life bring you great joy.” And to his delight the child responded silently
“I shall listen for your wise drumming.”
He handed the child back to an auburn-haired woman with generous curves. “I am happy to see you have come to care for the child.”
Hava smiled at him, “You have been missed on the Mount, my friend.”
Down the ridge through the mists and into the valley of Jezreel, he headed for the Great Sea, keeping the sacred rhythm until it was time to welcome the divine dancer’s feminine partner in Migdol.
Now to the beat of his walking stick, Belshazzar journeys home to his wife in Aksum. His eldest son has had a son of his own. He shall teach the child to beat his drum with compassion.
***