Symphony of the All

By September Storm

The Black Shofar is an enemy agent at war with the Symphony of the All. His energy espionage is intent on fraying the universal harmony of the spheres to break the links between the lower worlds and upper worlds to prevent the ascension of souls to the higher worlds. He hear the Symphony of the All and wants to create a prison planet on Earth where he can block the energy vibrations of the ascending souls, fearing they will destroy him. Imagine being formed in ice and never transforming to water, or steam or pure hydrogen and oxygen? The ascending souls would be trapped in this dimension, in their current Earthly form. The natural order of the universe is at risk if he is not stopped from fraying the attunement of the spheres. The Symphony of the All is cast over seven dimensional worlds and is guarded by the eight muses, each with an attuning power which holds the universe in harmony and together. They are the sheet music of Symphony of the All's infinite vibrational harmony which forms all dimensions.
Amy is on a journey of enlightenment and comes upon the Black Shofar and the Muses. The Muses reveal to her the true nature of her existence; a muse, and the intentions of the Black Shofar and her role in the attuning and atoning the Black Shofar. Amy's esoteric journey is mirrored by live characters in her travels through the energy centers of our world, the Earth. She is the Bekiri. One who attunes (raises or lowers the vibrational frequency of others) and corrects their vibration, an atonement.
During her interplanetary esoteric travels, she encounters the Black Shofar in the act of trying to destroy the vibrational frequencies of the seven dimensions. She uses the harmony of the vibrational frequencies of the Muses through the use of her challenge coins and talismans from the planets to attune the Black Shofar, who is also using the fraying frequencies to stop Amy. She succeeds in attuning the Black Shofar, and in doing so, atones for his energy espionage. The Black Shofar's elevated vibrational attunement, and the Symphony of the All can be heard by all each morning at sunrise.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tablo Publishing
• Release date: Dec 3, 2020
• ISBN: 9781649694348

Book preview

Prologue

     Amy stood braced against the wind on the edge of the Black Canyon of the Gunnison, immersing her thoughts in the rocky crags of the gorge as she released the haunting memories of her past. The tears that rolled over her high cheek bones, where washed away into the raging torrent of icy waters carving their way through the deep canyon, mirroring her resolve. She struggled to hold on to both; the good and the bad. She remembered the good all too easily. She also had to learn to embrace the bad and remember….remember…remember…

                                                   ~

Are you waiting for me? she asked the stranger who appeared impatient and long delayed, as she stepped out of her hour-long interview before her signing in ceremony at the military entrance processing station. He had been waiting for her, so they could swear in together, and soon, they began doing everything together.

As Amy hovered high above the bed where her body laid helpless below her. She was immersed in the poison he had given her and from where time to time, he returned to dose her once again, to complete the murderous act of killing her. She tried to understand, why? Why would he do this to her? They had shared countless love letters during their separate deployments and assignments, taken all of their leave time together, shared their deepest heart’s desire with each other…and even gotten tattoos together. 

He shared his darkest fears and secrets with her. The experience of his initiation as a mason, his affinity for Egyptian hieroglyphs and the secret Indian ruin sites and pottery he had discovered. He even shared his most secret spot of all, Bloody Basin. 

It was him who had introduced her to the enlightenment, where she had learned to open her heart to the universe. She had learned how to listen and hear the sound of the universe in her studies of the ancient ways and sacred knowledge. 

So, why did he do this? The act was a horrific and treacherous act of deception. Was he so shallow that he only wanted to collect the life insurance policies of $567,000? She thought of his unit at No Slack. He had drilled it into her, 1st division, 2nd battalion, 3rd platoon…1,2,3 and what for? Four. That was his number. The numnber four is a bad omen in Chinese becuase it rhymes with death. Four. What for? For, five, six seven, she mused.

She still couldn’t believe it. There had to be a deeper more profound meaning behind his act. Did she have to die to see the truth? She had heard it said, when you leave the earth’s atmosphere in spirit, you remember your soul’s mission, and past lives. This is the only reason she could accept of why he did this to her. He did do it - and in so doing, did he saved her from being lost forever?

 Now, she had opened her heart, opened her mind, and opened her eyes, to see the All and remember who she was. Depsite of and even becuase of his act of treachery, she would atone him. by finding the higher purpose from this most painful deception and betrayal. She would raise her vibration, and soar like the screaming eagle he was. 

Amy forced herself back into her body and roused her being to move. Soon, she stumbled her way downstairs, and out to her jeep where she drove herself to the emergency room, saving her life. She now stood resolute, she would remember. The good. The bad. And now too, the ugly.

THE SYMPHONY OF THE ALL

The Symphony of the All 

      This is my canvas,

these are my words

These are my musing of a life so absurd

This is my reflection upon my world view

May the light change the darkness

 into a lovelier hue

There is a striving in the tuning the strings

A tension so taught by the heart’s ascension

A higher frequency, a sounding so clear,

The heartbeats in tandem with the hope and the fear

The boundary now breached and stretched beyond tears

The heart blossoms in truth and compassion now shared

When no tension is applied, the heart does not sing

A song does not sound when you pluck the string

PART I

Third Eye

     Amy was sitting cross legged on her new yoga pillow of grey with an embroidered lotus of silken ivory thread in the center of the raised cushion. She focused deeply on her root chakra, pulling the red light up through her navel into the blood orange glowing lotus she pictured in her mind. With each breath she was pulled deeper into the light and through to the next energy center pulsing through her being, her body; her car. She was a Camaro. Full bodied, sleek and fast. But she could not grow into a flashy Corvette no matter how hard she tried. Accounting, law school, violin and piano lessons couldn’t transform the caliber of her being. She would always be a Camaro.

Her classic lines were rooted in Los Altos Hills, CA., where the winding mountain roads crested at the skyline near the home of her youth. The mansion was filled with a ballroom, a library, and an art gallery, where dark secret rooms hid the treasures stolen away from the antiquities of the world. The grand rooms were gilded with Italian marble and French chandeliers and English silver. The more studied patrons would enjoy the library whose book filled shelfs were lined in rare and exquisite mahogany woods from the tropics, and the floors were covered in the adventous and triumphant exploits of the their ancestors with Grizzly Bear skin rugs that warmed them by the cozy fireplace. The private brick and moss lined sitting patio allowed private conversations and contemplation while immersing the sensing in aged Brand from the wet bar. 

The proper house was a formal English estate house, complete with maid’s quarters, service kitchens and manicured gardens. The house hosted frequent ballroom dances and holiday parties where their dancing guests were catered to with nine course meals, live bands in the ballroom and valet service for their Cadillac’s and Zimmers. 

The grandeur of the estate was a mere shadow of its true essence; the dark nature that hid in plain site on the other side of the ridge. The estate lay on the other side of the sprawling Foothills Park, where serene meadows and arched bridges over lilyponds sheltered it from the shadow lined ridge where main street became backwoods and hamlets became biker hideouts. 

The enormity of the grandeur was all offered at the enmity and  sacrifice of the sacred Indian lands where the estate was built. It stood as a gateway to the other side of the ridge, where darkness awaited in the night. The darkness was bound and wound by the grandfather clock in the hallway and its keeper, the Winder.

Focus! She reminded herself. Pushing out the negativity of the haunted place of her youth in her deeply controlled exhale, breathing in she pulled the red orange light up through her navel into her sternum the color of bright sunflowers, and quickly passed it up to her heart. Her green lotus heart of love and caring beat rhythmically to her breath. The lub-dub lullaby of her wild heart. Her free spirit full of acceptance and love for all life. Rocks, plants, animals and ocean life, and humans. She knew even the planets spoke to her. The celestial bodies possessed a being. A consciousness. The brilliant blue light of her throat chakra was easy to move into with each breath clearing her way to her third eye. But the violet light of her third eye was unattainable. She could move into the white crown above her head but could not see into her third eye. Her energy was blocked.

The sound of the screen door clanging against the door frame was followed by a gasp jolting her out of her semi deep meditation and back into the sunroom where she sat on the pillow in the center of the room. The breeze coming through the Tomoka forest rested in the knoll of Ormond Beach and entered the room with a rush. Situated just seven miles inland from Daytona Beach, where the roar of the Daytona 500 in the distance crept steadily back into the space and filled her ears with the numbing sound. This was her temporary sanctuary. A bolt hole. She had escaped the clutches of the Screaming Eagle as he throttled her throat with his claws, exposing the truth in his eyes of his 33rd degree mason brotherhood origins and his rendezvous with destiny…for now.

She had a rendezvous with destiny too. She was just not yet ready to embrace the power of her being. She had not yet become the Bekeri she was to become. Encounters with her, were crossroads with destiny. Choose the correct path, or the natural consequences of the Bekeri would follow you, hunt you down and fulfill the debt owed. It was hard for her to accept this….destiny. The choices of those who encountered her, would define their future path toward their destiny. The Bekeri called for sevenfold vengeance and she knew it would not be her choice to fulfill. It was always their choice. So, she chose isolation to avoid the encounters and the calling; the vocation of her soul. The Bekeri.

Natural Consequences

‘101’ ….. Patch on my shoulder, pick up your dog tags stick ‘em in your shirt. Don’t let your dog tags jingle in the dirt, the tired cadence was chanted out breathlessly by soldier -medics as they cut their way through the back waters of Fort Sam Houston each morning training to be Army medics as they shuffled along the well-worn path deep in the confines of San Antonio, Texas. 

It was here where she first learned of her Bekeri destiny. It started with dimes. As she rolled in the dirt and grass of the open fields wrestling and training in a mix of hand-to-hand combatives and Israeli Krav Maga, she started finding dimes. She thought the dimes had been left purposefully by their trainers who had scattered them along the field. Or, the dimes had fallen out of the pockets of soldiers who trained here over the years creating the dirt and rust encrusted dimes she would find as her face was smashed into the dirt But, soon,  she started finding dimes everywhere. She found dimes in her locker, under her bunk, as she crossed a road. It was as if a dimensional doorway had been opened  and the dimes were being pushed through to our side. But by whom?  Soldiers killed in action? And why? 

Without any answers to her questions, she determined that the dimes were a sign. A sign from the other dimensions. The dimes themselves were not important. What was important was that she realized that she could communicate with the other side. The other side of the coin, the underbelly of reality was here, on earth. We, our spirits were the roots of the tree, creating a shadow on the worlds of the other dimensions.  The physical properties of our reality in this shadow world casts shadow on the other dimensions. Seven dimensions. Seven shadows. Sevenfold. 

Each action created a shadow and that shadow created darkness and someone or something was standing behind that action on both sides of each dimension. To bring the light back into the darkness, requires a renunciation, a swing of the pendulum to the other side of darkness, to clear the shadow and reveal the light. The dimensional weight of shadow is seven times that of light and recompense is sevenfold. The pendulum moves through the dimensional circle of time and light, seven times to complete a cycle. Seven colors of light; red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. The energy of our chakras are a microcosm of the universal dimensional energy.  We, our world, is in the root chakra, red, aggressive, high energy, red. 

She was now beginning to sense these energies and the energy path left by our actions. Some people have a gut feeling, or the hair on the back of their neck is electrified, For her, when she saw and felt the energy, it burned. It burned in her left wrist on her scar in the shape of a crescent moon. She had come too close to the flame of a candle as a child and the hot wax and flame seared into her wrist as a reminder to stay away from the flame. When she felt the sensation, she could see the floating spheres of transcendental energy pulsed around a person as they danced at their back, as if to challenge them to look back at their past and at the wake of their destruction left behind. She became a conduit to correction and balance. The Bekeri. Her energy was like a black hole and once another being’s energy was within the space of the event horizon of that energy, they were on a path to correction, or recompense and destiny. Now that she recognized these patterns, she understood more of what Bekeri energy was. An atonement. With great compassion she understood how she attracted very evil and dark forces and filtered that energy to a path of light. Afterall, she was born on Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement and on the Libra-Virgo cusp.  She was destined to find truth and beauty and execute judgement and mercy. This was her destiny. 

Challenge Coins

     Sometimes, the corrective action requires an object. A focal