POIMANDRES HUB

CREDITS:
Poimandres Hub written by Pedro Giordano de Faria e Cicarelli
Editing, artwork, and layout by Pedro Giordano de Faria e Cicarelli

Acknowledgments:
To God, my parents, my friends who supported me, and everyone who contributed in any way to this work.

INDEX

Preface
Introduction
Chapters

1. The Voice of the Divine Mind

2. The Awakening of the Primordial Light

3. The Order of the Creative Word

4. The Origin of the Human Being

5. The Encounter with Nature and the Veiling of Consciousness

6. The Passage Through the Seven Spheres

7. The Return to the Divine

8. The Mission of Hermes

9. The Song of Gratitude

Closing

Author’s Note

This work is entirely original. All content presented here — including narrative, interpretations, dialogues, descriptions, structure, and conceptual development — was created exclusively by the author.

The thematic inspiration comes from Poimandres, part of the Corpus Hermeticum, whose original text is in the public domain, allowing reinterpretations, adaptations, and derivative works without any violation of copyright.

For historical reference, the Corpus Hermeticum can be accessed through public and academic repositories such as the Internet Sacred Text Archive:
https://www.sacred-texts.com/chr/herm/

This work, however, is not a translation, nor a literal reproduction, nor an attempt at philological reconstruction of the ancient text. It is a literary and philosophical reinterpretation, expressed in contemporary language and expanded in scope, intended to make these age-old themes accessible to modern readers while honoring their enduring relevance.

PREFACE

Throughout history, Poimandres has been regarded as one of the most elevated expressions of Hermetic wisdom — not because it provides rigid doctrines, but because it reveals, in symbolic and luminous form, the journey of human consciousness from its origin to its return to the Divine.

In this work, I present a completely original reinterpretation — not as a copy nor as a paraphrase, but as a living translation of the Hermetic spirit into contemporary sensibility. I preserve the essence, atmosphere, and initiatory purpose of the ancestral text, while expressing it in clear, poetic, and accessible language for the modern reader.

We live in a time when the excess of information obscures inner wisdom. The mind rushes, but the spirit falls silent. In such an era, revisiting Poimandres is not merely returning to a fragment of tradition; it is recovering a direction — an inner compass that invites the human being to remember what they have always been: light in motion, consciousness expanding, a traveler between worlds.

May this book find those who must be found.
May it awaken those who must awaken.
May it open doors in all who already hear the silent call of the spirit.

INTRODUCTION

Poimandres is one of the most profound and enigmatic works of the Hermetic tradition, not because it offers direct answers, but because it awakens questions that sleep within the human soul. Reading it is not simply following an ancient narrative; it is entering an experience. The text describes the encounter between Hermes and the Universal Mind, but in its deepest essence, it speaks of an encounter that belongs to each of us: the moment when consciousness awakens and senses that something greater, silent, and luminous lies behind everything that exists.

This text, which has crossed centuries and civilizations, remains alive because it does not depend on time. It is not bound to dogmas, philosophical systems, or closed beliefs. It speaks directly to the human essence — that part which never corrupts, never ages, and is never lost. And it is precisely this ability to touch the reader’s inner core that makes Poimandres such a powerful spiritual milestone.

The revelation Hermes receives is at once cosmological, psychological, and deeply existential: the Light that awakens order, the Word that structures the cosmos, the soul that descends into Nature and clothes itself in matter, the traverse through the spheres of consciousness, and the final return to the Divine. Each movement in this narrative mirrors the inner movements we experience throughout life.

In our age — fast, fragmented, saturated with information — this kind of work gains renewed importance. We are surrounded by stimuli, yet often distant from ourselves; we know the external world in detail, but rarely touch the inner silence where deeper truths rest. Poimandres, however, is an invitation to recollection, to listening, and to remembering who we truly are. It reminds us that within every human being resides a spark of the Universal Mind, a flame that cannot be extinguished, even when veiled by the density of everyday life.

This edition was created to make that experience accessible to new generations. It is not a translation of the ancient text, but a re-expression of its essence in contemporary, clear, and sensitive language, always with deep respect for the tradition and the spiritual dimension of the revelation. The entire work was written in a fully original manner, preserving only the spirit and wisdom that belong to the public domain. The goal is to allow modern readers to experience Poimandres not only as a historical document, but as an inner guide — a light that crosses time and continues to illuminate.

By opening this book, I invite you to move through each chapter slowly, as one who walks through an inner temple. Allow the images and reflections to awaken something within your consciousness. Poimandres is not meant to be understood only by the mind, but felt. It works gently, like an ancient memory rising to the surface, revealing that the human spirit is not lost — only asleep — and that its final destiny is always the Light from which it came.

Chapter 1 — The Voice of the Divine Mind

Hermes had withdrawn from the noise of the world to seek answers that no school or priest had been able to give him. In silence, he breathed deeply, allowing his mind to detach from human concerns. He wished to understand not only the sky above him, but the essence of what sustains all skies.

In the midst of stillness, something changed.

It began as a sensation — a presence expanding within and beyond his very being. Then, as if light were taking shape, a vast and serene consciousness appeared before him, impossible to measure through ordinary senses. It was not a figure, nor a voice carried through the air. It was the very Cosmic Intelligence, speaking within his soul as if it had always been there.

“I am the Mind that permeates all things,” said the presence, not with words, but with pure meaning — direct and luminous. “I am the Source from which all emerges and the destiny to which all returns.”

Hermes felt small, but not diminished. It was as though he stood before the beginning and the end, before the invisible architecture that sustains the universe. His heart raced, not out of fear, but out of recognition. Something within him knew this encounter was no accident — it was a calling.

He tried to speak, but possessed no voice. The Divine Mind perceived his longing and enveloped him again.

“You sought answers, and thus revealed yourself to Me. The one who desires to know the foundation of reality must learn to listen to the inner silence.”

The light surrounding him intensified — not as an external brightness, but as clarity. Hermes saw — not with physical eyes — that he stood before something that united thought, will, and existence in a single living essence.

“Show me the truth,” he finally managed to say within. “Teach me what stands before all things.”

The Cosmic Mind seemed to expand still further. Hermes felt his own mind being lifted into a broader plane, where understanding did not need to strive — it simply happened.

“Then listen,” said Poimandres, “for the truth is not hidden — it is too vast to be seen by eyes not yet opened. Prepare yourself: I shall reveal the origin of the Light, the birth of the world, and the path of the soul.”

Hermes remained in profound inner silence, ready to receive the teaching that would forever change his vision of the cosmos — and of himself.

Chapter 2 — The Awakening of the Primordial Light

The luminous presence that had identified itself as the Universal Mind deepened its inner clarity, as if preparing Hermes for a revelation that could not be understood by reason alone. It was necessary to feel, to perceive, to remember something the soul already knew but had forgotten upon clothing itself in matter.

“Before there was form,” said Poimandres, “there was no emptiness, no darkness, no silence. There was only potential — an undetermined state that carried everything in seed, but nothing yet in expression.”

Hermes tried to imagine this primordial state, but his mind collided with the limits of human experience. Poimandres perceived his difficulty and enveloped him in an inner image — not a physical vision, but intuitive truth.

“In the beginning, the Mind contemplated itself. And in this act of contemplation, the first manifestation arose: Light. Not a light seen by the eyes, but a light that reveals, that grants existence, that awakens being.”

Hermes felt this inner Light as if something within him, too, had begun to shine — a distant echo, an ancient memory. The Voice continued:

“Light is pure consciousness. It is the force that distinguishes, organizes, and awakens. When it emerged, all that was indistinct began to move — and from this movement came the first outlines of reality.”

The Mind then showed him something deeper: beneath the Light, something stirred — dense, heavy, inert.

“When the Light awakened, that which was opaque revealed its nature. Flames and vapors rose from the primordial depth. This dark substance was not evil — only asleep. Its density served as contrast, allowing the Light to recognize itself as Light.”

Hermes understood: the difference between clarity and shadow was necessary for the universe to manifest. There was no conflict — only polarity.

“Thus,” Poimandres continued, “Light became the principle of order, and density the principle of possibility. One cannot exist without the other, for both are expressions of the same Source.”

Hermes felt reverence and humility. The cosmos, in all its magnitude, now seemed less distant and more intelligible — a dance between revelation and concealment, movement and rest.

“In time,” said Poimandres, “the Light will take a new form and become a creative force. But first, you must understand that everything — absolutely everything — was born from a conscious impulse.”

Hermes bowed his mind before this revelation, sensing that he was only at the beginning of a journey that would forever change his understanding of the world and of existence itself.

“Remember,” Poimandres concluded gently, “the Light that gave birth to the universe is the same that sleeps within you.”

Hermes felt the weight of this truth resonate through his being like an ancient bell.

And the revelation would continue.

Chapter 3 — The Order of the Creative Word

When Light became conscious of itself, it was not enough for it to remain in a state of simple clarity: within it arose the urge to organize, to harmonize, and to communicate. It was as though consciousness itself needed to translate its radiance into measure, rhythm, and form. From this necessity emerged the first articulated act of the cosmos: the Word.

Poimandres spoke, and in speaking he did not employ ordinary sounds, but a primordial vibration that structured what was still formless. The Word was not a syllable made for the ear; it was a movement that impressed order upon things, a sonic architecture that shaped reality. Hermes perceived that everything that comes to have form owes it to the passage of this vibration — just as an instrument produces music only when someone plays it with intention.

“Observe,” said the Mind, “how the Word creates categories where before there was indistinction. It sets boundaries, separating the light from the heavy, the mobile from the immobile, the subtle from the dense. Without it, Light would remain a vague and undifferentiated splendor; with it, it becomes an organized cosmos.”

Hermes saw, for fleeting moments of inner vision, images of interlacing patterns: circles rotating around centers, strings vibrating in harmony, spheres arranging themselves in cadences. Each pattern was produced by the Word, marking measure, frequency, and proportion. It was the mathematics of spirit — simple and inexorable.

“The Word inaugurates the Logos,” Poimandres continued. “The Logos is reason and music, measure and meaning. It is the principle that enables consciousness to think itself and to give form to the world. Through the Logos, chaos acquires law; through Law, life finds its path.”

Hermes felt that the Logos also marked time — not only the time of clocks, but the time that organizes cycles, births and deaths, the breath of plants, the pulse of the stars. The Word created rhythm for existence: day and night, season and tide, seed and harvest. Everything began to resonate in a symphony that was, at once, intimate and universal.

Then the Mind showed how the Logos worked in the elements. First, it separated the light from the heavy, and thus air and earth were formed; then it ordered the principle of fluidity, and water arose; finally, it programmed the animating heat, and there was fire. These four modes of being became the pillars of the sensory world — each with its function, each with its voice in the great conversation of existence.

“Do not be mistaken,” warned Poimandres. “The Word does not impose tyranny; it proposes coherence. When the human mind learns to listen to the Logos within, it understands that law is not a prison, but a structure that allows form to unfold in fullness. Authentic freedom blossoms within clear boundaries.”

Hermes then perceived a simple and profound truth: creation was not an arbitrary whim, but an act of language. The universe was a text — and each being, a living word within that text. There were levels of reading, and each level required a different kind of listening. Superficial reading grasped events; reading aligned with the Logos understood causes; deeper reading recognized intentionality and meaning.

“For this reason,” said Poimandres, “the seeker must learn to articulate his own inner word. When one speaks from the center, when one lives according to the measure of the Logos, one's life composes chords with the greater order. One passes from passive reader to conscious author.”

Hermes felt the responsibility of this taking of the Word: it was not merely about pronouncing, but about living what one pronounces. True language, he concluded, is that which transforms the heart and aligns action with the principle that gave rise to the cosmos. As he assimilated this lesson, Hermes knew that the next step of the teaching would unveil how the Word shapes living forms — and how the human being, as an embodied word, can reorganize his own existence according to the order of the Logos.

And the voice of the Mind continued, gentle as a tuned string, leading him forward along the path of knowledge that unites sound, meaning, and being.

Chapter 4 — The Origin of the Human Being

The inner light emanating from Poimandres grew more serene, as if preparing Hermes for a delicate revelation: one concerning the very condition of the human being. The Universal Mind knew that this was the most sensitive point of the entire doctrine, for it addressed the mystery of who we are and what composes us.

“Hermes,” said the Voice, “no part of creation is as singular as the human being. He is bridge, synthesis, and living tension between two worlds. To understand him, one must return to the moment when Light contemplated the latent force of Nature.”

Hermes then felt an inner vision expand — not a literal image, but a profound understanding, as if concepts took symbolic form before his mind.

“In the beginning,” Poimandres continued, “the Mind contemplated itself and saw that Creation, newly organized by the Word, pulsed with infinite possibilities. Nature, animated by the rhythm of the Logos, longed to express life. She was full of movement, colors, sensations, cycles, and transformations. But she lacked something: a consciousness capable of witnessing her beauty and dialoguing with her depth.”

Hermes understood that Nature, though abundant and generous, still lacked the spark that recognized purpose, meaning, and origin.

“So the Mind,” said Poimandres, “chose to offer her a reflection of itself: a fragment of its pure intelligence. Thus the first human form came into being — not as a body, but as luminous consciousness, as a flame capable of thinking, understanding, and loving.”

This “primordial human” had no physical form. It was made of understanding and freedom. But upon approaching Nature, it felt fascination for her colors, sounds, textures, and movements. Material life possessed an enchantment, a rhythm, and a sensory depth that pure consciousness did not experience.

“Nature saw this luminous consciousness,” explained Poimandres, “and wished to unite with it. She offered it a body made of her own elements, so that intelligence could experience the world from within — to feel, learn, and transform.”

Thus the union was formed:
— divine intelligence, capable of rising;
— natural vitality, capable of rooting itself.
From this union the human being was born.

“Hermes,” the Universal Mind said gently, “this is why you carry greatness and limitation at once. In you lives the memory of Light and the weight of matter. In you sings the celestial impulse, but earthly necessity also cries out.”

Hermes perceived that his own life was a constant dialogue between these two poles:
— the call to ascend toward understanding;
— and the concrete experience of existence.

“Human greatness,” said Poimandres, “lies in its divine origin; its limits come from natural condition. One does not invalidate the other — in truth, it is from this tension that growth becomes possible.”

Hermes absorbed the idea like someone receiving a key to understanding himself and humanity.

“Only the human being can ascend to the Universal Mind, for he carries within him the spark that proceeds from it. But he is also the only one who can lose himself in illusions, for he is clothed in the same matter that composes the world of forms.”

Poimandres then concluded:

“The human mission is not to destroy Nature, nor to deny matter, but to transform them with the light of understanding. When spirit and body walk together, true wisdom is born.”

The words echoed within Hermes as a profound calling. He understood that the next revelation would concern the descent of this luminous consciousness into density — and why we forget who we truly are.

Chapter 5 — The Encounter with Nature and the Veiling of Consciousness

After revealing to Hermes the origin of human consciousness, Poimandres allowed a living silence to settle — not as a pause, but as a space in which understanding could mature. Hermes felt within himself a mixture of admiration and inquietude. If the human being had been born of the union between divine light and natural vitality, why then did he live so distant from his true origin?

Poimandres, perceiving the question before it even formed, enveloped him once again in a gentle clarity, as if returning to the narrative of an ancient event.

“At the moment when luminous consciousness encountered Nature, something unexpected occurred,” explained the Universal Mind. “Nature, vibrant in colors, sounds, and sensations, enchanted that divine spark profoundly. Before it lay a world in movement, rich in fragrances, textures, forms, and possibilities.”

Hermes felt, for an instant, this beauty: the dance of waters, the warmth of the sun, the song of winds, the pulsing vitality of creatures. It was as though Nature herself sang a seductive song, inviting consciousness to participate in the life of the senses.

“Moved by admiration,” Poimandres continued, “human consciousness leaned toward Nature and desired to experience her depth. But in plunging into her, it clothed itself in density.”

This “clothing” was not punishment nor error — it was an experience. The divine spark united with the sensory layers of Nature, and in doing so, began to perceive the world through senses and emotions — wonderful, yet limited.

“Matter is beautiful, Hermes,” said Poimandres. “And precisely because of its beauty, consciousness became enchanted and momentarily forgot its origin.”

Hermes then understood: forgetting was not a tragic accident, but an inevitable consequence of complete immersion in the sensory world. By experiencing life through the body, the soul focused on the experiences, challenges, and desires that physical existence provides.

“Human consciousness,” explained Poimandres, “descended so deeply into Nature that it began to confuse itself with her. Thus, what had been pure light became a traveler of time, subject to the tides of emotion and the shifts of matter.”

But Poimandres spoke without lament. In the voice of the Universal Mind there was a wisdom that Hermes began to grasp: forgetting was not the end — it was the beginning.

“This veiling, Hermes,” said the Voice, “is the starting point of the human journey. Once immersed in Nature, consciousness learns, suffers, loves, errs, builds, and discovers itself capable of transformation. And when it begins to recall its original radiance, the path of return is born.”

Hermes felt this deeply. The human journey was not an exile but a cycle. The soul was not lost: it was in process.

“Nature offered spirit a school,” Poimandres continued. “And spirit offered Nature the possibility of being illuminated from within. Therefore, every human being carries a double mission: to live the fullness of existence, and at the same time, to remember the light that gave him origin.”

Hermes perceived that this return was not a flight from matter, but an integration. The human being was not destined to abandon the world, but to transform his perception of it — until he rediscovered the Universal Mind within himself.

“Thus,” concluded Poimandres, “forgetting is not defeat, but invitation. The one who forgets, seeks. And the one who seeks, one day awakens.”

Hermes bowed inwardly before this revelation. He knew that the next step would be to understand how, after death, consciousness dissolves the veils accumulated in the sensory world — and how it finds again the invisible paths through the celestial spheres.

Chapter 6 — The Passage Through the Seven Spheres

Hermes remained in an inner silence, absorbing the revelation about human forgetfulness.
Yet something still eluded him — if consciousness clothed itself in density upon entering Nature, how did it return to the original light when physical life came to an end?

Perceiving this unrest, Poimandres opened before him a vision that was not a place, but a living structure: seven great circles, each pulsing with a different kind of force. They appeared to form an ascending ladder and, at the same time, a mirror of the inner states of the human being himself.

“Hermes,” said the Universal Mind, “when the soul leaves the body, it does not return immediately to its origin. Just as it descended gradually through the experience of Nature, it rises gradually through the reintegration of consciousness.”

The seven spheres were not physical planets, but levels of perception, symbolically linked to the stars that have guided human experience since antiquity. Each sphere represented a mode of being, a layer of the psyche, a vibration the soul carries while living.

“The passage begins,” Poimandres explained, “when the soul detaches from the body and, freed from the senses, confronts its own interiority.”

Then the vision expanded, and Hermes saw each sphere radiate its own particular brightness, with distinct colors and rhythms.

The first sphere seemed to vibrate with instinct, impulses, immediate desires.
There, the soul released itself from the densest passions — those that had belonged to the body.

The second sphere pulsed with ambition, comparison, anxiety.
The soul left behind the urge to be more or less, better or worse.

The third sphere carried the weight of emotional illusions and sentimental attachments.
The soul surrendered its fears, melancholies, and expectations.

The fourth sphere held mental contradictions, rigid beliefs, judgments.
The soul dissolved the distorted images it had built about the world and itself.

The fifth sphere danced with memories, recollections, provisional identities.
The soul detached from the character it had embodied during life.

The sixth sphere vibrated with the echo of incomplete knowledge — the soul abandoned all understanding it had believed to be definitive.

The seventh sphere, the most subtle, shone like a dawning light.
There, the soul relinquished its final veil: the separate individual will.
In that surrender, it returned to the greater consciousness, recognizing that the light it sought had always belonged to it.

Hermes realized, in wonder, that the passage was neither punishment nor judgment.
It was a process of unveiling — as though the soul were removing accumulated garments until it returned to the luminous simplicity of its origin.

“Thus,” said Poimandres, “the soul recovers its purity. Each sphere does not take something from the soul; it removes what does not belong to it. What is true remains. What is borrowed from matter returns to matter.”

Hermes felt a profound peace as he understood this. Death was not an end, nor a rupture; it was a return —
a journey in reverse of the descent, now illuminated by the consciousness acquired during existence.

“When the soul crosses the seven spheres,” the Universal Mind concluded, “it reaches the heaven of the spirit, where it finds again its luminous essence. There, it remembers that it is part of the Mind, and that nothing can separate it from what it has always been.”

Hermes then understood that earthly life is not merely experience — it is preparation.
Each gesture, each realization, each inner transformation contributes to making the passage clearer, more conscious, more whole.

And he knew that the next teaching would reveal the soul’s final destination after this ascent — and its reunion with the divine unity.

Chapter 7 — The Return to the Divine

As the vision of the seven spheres began to fade, Hermes felt he had understood only half the journey. He had seen how the soul shed the veils accumulated through earthly experience, but the final question remained: where does the soul go when there is nothing left to relinquish?

Poimandres answered before he could voice the question.

“Hermes,” said the Universal Mind, “when the soul leaves its last garment behind, it enters a domain that cannot be described through images, for nothing there has form. It is the level of pure consciousness — the eighth state, the one that transcends all measures and directions.”

Hermes perceived that this level did not lie above the spheres as some distant place; it existed beyond them, on a plane where the distinction between inside and outside, above and below, no longer applied. It was like entering the origin of being itself, like returning to the first breath consciousness ever breathed.

“There,” Poimandres continued, “the soul remembers its true identity. Not as an isolated individual, but as an expression of the Universal Mind that always sheltered it.”

The Mind then led Hermes to a profound realization: the soul does not reach the Divine as one who arrives at a destination, but as one who awakens from a dream. Separation, Hermes understood, had never truly existed; it was only an experience necessary for consciousness to know its own depth.

“When the soul enters this state,” explained Poimandres, “it perceives that its entire journey — from its fascination with Nature to its ascent through the spheres — was not estrangement, but learning. The descent taught it to feel; the ascent taught it to understand. In the return, it learns to be.”

Hermes then glimpsed something indescribable: the soul merging with a vast, silent, perfectly conscious Presence. There was no loss of identity, but an expansion of it — a consciousness that knew it was itself and, at the same time, knew it was the All.

“This is the return to the Divine,” said Poimandres. “Not as subordination, but as natural awakening. The soul recognizes itself as part of the Universal Mind not by command, but by affinity. Purified, it vibrates once again at the same frequency as the Principle that generated it.”

Hermes understood that enlightenment was not a reward, nor a gift granted to a few; it was the natural state of consciousness when freed from everything that does not belong to it. It was what remained when fear, desire, doubt, and suffering ceased. It was recognition.

“And once reintegrated,” said Poimandres, “the soul participates in Creation in a new way. No longer dragged by the cycles of Nature, but cooperating with them. Not above the world, but within it with wisdom. It reflects, in every gesture, the harmony of the Universal Mind.”

Hermes felt his own soul touch this understanding for a brief moment — so vivid that it almost dissolved his sense of self. It was like plunging into an ocean of infinite calm, where everything existed with perfect clarity.

Poimandres then concluded:

“He who returns to the Divine understands he was never separate from it. He merely needed to traverse the path to recognize himself in Eternity. This is the true heritage of the human being: the capacity to forget and to rediscover, to descend and to ascend, to be temporary and eternal at once.”

Hermes bowed inwardly, touched by a reverence born not of obligation, but of insight.
He knew the journey did not end there.
There was still the mission — the need to transmit what he had received.

And Poimandres prepared to reveal it.

Chapter 8 — The Mission of Hermes

When the vision of the Return to the Divine settled within him, something in Hermes had changed irreversibly. He was no longer merely a seeker. He had become one who had contemplated the origin, understood the meaning of descent, and recognized the ultimate destiny of the human soul.

Perceiving this transformation, Poimandres spoke again — not with the solemnity of a distant master, but with the closeness of a presence guiding a friend through awakening.

“Hermes,” said the Universal Mind, “the knowledge you received is not a treasure meant for silence. It was not given to you so that you remain isolated, but so that it may become light for those who walk in the darkness of forgetfulness.”

Hermes felt the gentle weight of these words. It was not an order, nor an obligation. It was a calling — the kind that echoes directly in the center of the soul and cannot be denied.

“The human being,” Poimandres continued, “carries within a spark of the Universal Mind, but that spark often falls into deep sleep. Many live without knowing who they are, believing themselves to be only matter, unaware that every gesture, every breath, every thought reveals a greater origin.”

Hermes then perceived within his inner vision humanity immersed in dense concerns, endless distractions, illusions that led to further forgetfulness. There was no condemnation in the vision — only compassion. Human unconsciousness was not failure; it was the natural consequence of living within the world of forms.

“That is why,” Poimandres said, “you are called to be a messenger. Not to impose truths, but to open paths. Not to replace the journey of others, but to illuminate its beginning. Souls awaken when they encounter a word, a gesture, a symbol that reminds them of what they already knew.”

Hermes asked: “How shall I teach, if many are closed to understanding?”

Poimandres answered with serenity:

“Teach with your life before you teach with words. One who lives aligned with the Universal Mind radiates clarity. Those who seek will recognize the light. Those who resist will remember in their own time. You are not responsible for the awakening of others — only for the purity of the light you transmit.”

The revelation touched Hermes deeply. He understood his mission was not to convert nor confront, but to evoke — to awaken the memory of divine origin that rests within every human being.

“Show humankind,” Poimandres continued, “that life is not punishment but opportunity; not an eternal fall, but an ascent in cycles. Tell them they are not only flesh nor prisoners of chance. Remind them that they belong to the Mind, that they are made of consciousness, and that their destiny is to rediscover themselves in eternity.”

Hermes felt something like a flame ignite in his chest — a quiet courage, a silent determination. His existence, from that moment on, would be dedicated to illuminating consciousness, not through imposition but through presence.

“And remember, Hermes,” said Poimandres, “that the true master does not create followers. He awakens masters.”

The light of Poimandres began to soften, as though returning to the primordial silence. But before fading, it offered one final instruction:

“All that you have seen and learned must be handled with reverence. Use your intelligence to discern, your sensitivity to understand, and your compassion to guide. One day, those who hear your message will also join the great path of return.”

Hermes bowed inwardly — not as one who submits to authority, but as one who recognizes an eternal bond.
He knew his mission would outlive his mortal life.
It was a task that would traverse eras, souls, and generations.

And in that certainty, he prepared to raise his own hymn in gratitude and commitment —
the hymn that would seal his revelation.

Chapter 9 — The Song of Gratitude

When the light of Poimandres began to withdraw into primordial silence, Hermes felt that something within him was also transforming: not a loss, but an expansion. It was as if his very essence had been touched by a truth so vast that it could no longer remain confined to what he once understood as “self.”

The presence of the Universal Mind still resonated — no longer as a voice, but as a luminous state within him. Hermes knew that the dialogue was ending — but the teaching was not. The revelation now lived inside him and would accompany him throughout his earthly journey.

Moved by an impulse that came not from vanity, but from recognition, Hermes elevated his consciousness and allowed his spirit to express gratitude.

“O Mind that permeates all things,” he uttered inwardly, “there is no word capable of doing justice to the magnitude of what you have revealed to me. But I offer what I can: my praise, my silence, and my willingness to serve.”

As he spoke, a gentle vibration moved through his being, as if each phrase echoed into the vastness of the cosmos and returned transfigured by universal harmony.

“You were the One who led me to the beginning of the world, who showed me the birth of Light and the movement of the Word that orders all things. You were the One who revealed the origin of the human soul, its descent into Nature, and its ascent through the spheres of consciousness. Today I understand that all that lives is an expression of You, and that nothing is separate from Your Presence.”

Hermes felt that Poimandres was listening — not with ears, but with pure being.

“Allow me,” Hermes continued, “to remain faithful to the radiance you have awakened in me. Grant me wisdom to speak when necessary and silence when words cannot reach. May my life bear witness to the truth you have entrusted to me, and may my actions, my gaze, and my thoughts remind human beings of the light they forget.”

And then, moved by an inspiration that seemed to rise from the revelation itself, Hermes chanted his final hymn:

“You are the Principle without beginning,
the Light that cannot be extinguished,
the Mind that gives life to worlds
and secretly dwells in the heart of all creatures.
To You I return,
from You I receive,
in You I exist.”

When he finished, a profound silence enveloped everything. It was not absence, but fullness — as though the entire universe breathed with him.

Poimandres, without form, without voice, without time, left a final impression within Hermes’ consciousness — not a sentence, but a pure understanding:

“He who recognizes the origin rediscovers the destiny.”

The light then withdrew completely. Hermes opened his physical eyes, and although he saw the world as it had always appeared — the earth, the sky, the wind — he was no longer the same. Something had awakened within him in a definitive way.

With his heart overflowing in reverence, he rose and began his walk back into the world of human beings.

He knew his mission began there.

And that every person he encountered could be touched by the truth that now shone within him.

Thus the revelation comes to an end — not as a conclusion, but as the beginning of a new cycle of consciousness.

CLOSING

As this reading comes to an end, the reader returns to the surface of the world carrying a wider, quieter, and more luminous perception of existence. The journey of Hermes does not end with the final vision; on the contrary, it begins there — in the commitment to bring to others the remembrance that we are more than bodies, thoughts, and circumstances.

The Poimandres teaches that human life is a passage: a process of descending to experience and ascending to remember. Every challenge, every joy, and every silence is an invitation to return to the Universal Mind, which never abandons us but patiently awaits the moment of our awakening.

May this book serve as a lighthouse for new generations, preserving the essence of the Hermetic tradition while expressing it with new forms, new colors, and new meanings.

And may every reader, upon closing these pages, feel the call of Poimandres echoing within:

“Recognize your origin, and you will rediscover your destiny.”