Mayah-Metahraptah - One of the identical twin male Pharaohs of Egypt, in its most ancient and distant past. Elvis’ twin Jesse, who was born dead in this last incarnation, was the soul of Mayah’s twin.
The following is my akashic / psychic view of a past life memory as experienced by the soul of Elvis Presley incarnated as Mayah-Metahraptah. This senario is based soley on my own paranormal perceptions, and not on any experience he verbalized to another person to my knowledge.
He lay sleeping, finally. The pain had gripped him tightly in its fist for so many hours he was reduced to a dulled pantomime of feeling, no longer connected to the present world. And so he slept. Or was it sleeping? It was as if he had become a mirror held up to the sky. He felt empty, yet full of hidden spaces. A gentle and steady wind swept into the sails of his mind. He shivered a moment, then relaxed. His soul became a ship, its bow cutting through the darkness, breaking into a silver sea, spilling stars in its wake. It was not an uncharted course the wind had embarked him upon, for surely as he soared on sails of light, he was homeward bound.
Within each soul there are many ports where the lanterns are lit for our returning memory. As lost sailors we may someday re-appear for a moment out of time to recount our struggles, pleasures, and rewards in a life now far removed from our shore. He knew this, and he knew also that he was now upon such a journey.
Suddenly, all about him a swirl of blue light twisted and turned in a dance of mists, invoking him in a surge of happiness, of belonging. From the center of the blue depth a vaporous form took shape. As a shade from the past, the form grew more visible, until he could see it fully under the brilliant sun. He realized he was now standing upon a fastness of sand, the sky swirled as a tender rose in the first blaze of dawn. But for the imposing figure before him, he felt alone. He was a speck of light upon an amber marble in a sea of glass. The form that had taken shape in his sight appeared to be a great golden falcon, its pinions raised towards the sun. The protruding beak of the creature glinted in silence, yet the large rounded eye, turned toward him and spoke into his heart. A door opened inside him and he saw himself in the ancient land - the Egyptos before the Deluge when the masters had walked the Earth. He was tall and straight, with pale blue eyes the color of Siberian quartz. He wore a shirt of white with golden threaded braid. A similar braid encircled his head. In repose at his feet lay a white tiger, his yellow eyes synchronized with some distant motion.
He saw that he was in the open air standing before the steps of a massive temple. Before him a small gathering of men and women stood, waiting expectantly. He knew they awaited his response to their need. A great and tedious drought had sieged their land. As a descendant of the Blue Star he was seen as a god among mortals, and it was therefore within his power to control the elements.
He instinctively beckoned an aid to come forward from behind him. The man carried a cage containing seven white doves. As he took the cage from his aid, he knew he was committing this act upon the scroll of time once again, as he had done in that age long ago. It was as if he must repeat the act for the benefit of relieving the drought within his own soul. He lifted the cage toward the cloudless sky. Like the eye of the falcon it shone down upon him, unblinking . He heard himself speak,”I, born of Horus, given breath by Ra, who descended from the One Star in the Day before Creation; I set free the living waters that reside in the abode of the Ascended, wherein all abundance is manifest.” In that minute a small vapour appeared to rise from the long slash of brown water beyond the temple. The vapour became a small cloud, lingering near the horizon.
He who was Mayah-Metahraptah, Solar Monarch, Living Throne to the One Star , placed his slender fingers upon the golden clasp of the cage and released into the morning breath of Egyptos , a chariot of doves. Feathered emissaries to the gods, they were set in a slow motion of soft white, chorused by the psalm of tiny silver bells encircling their legs. As a melody of wings swept the bell notes higher upon the scales of the wind, Mayah-Metahraptah opened his throat to the voice of Heaven, and the gods gave pause to listen to his song.
The doves gathered and circled about the cloud, their bells faintly tracing a harmony over the land, dipping and rising, weaving with the lifted voice of the Pharaoh. From the east there came a low incantation, like a beast struggling from a pit. It echoed across the face of the day, devouring the delicate tinkling of the dove bells, usurping the spaces above the desert with its profound message. Dark clouds impressed patterns of shattered bronze upon the Earth, brandishing spears of lightening before them. Then, as if no barrier were left to hold back the storm, rain streaked a gray sky in its flight to refuge. He could go now. He had sung his song to the heavens once again. His soul was quenched.