THE EMERALD TABLET AND CONSCIOUSNESS

CREDITS:
The Emerald Tablet and Consciousness 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, in any way, contributed to this work.

TABLE OF CONTENTS

Introduction — The Stone That Speaks to Silence
Prologue — The Voice That Crossed the Three Realms
Chapter 1 — The Axiom of Truth
Chapter 2 — The Law of Correspondence
Chapter 3 — The Unity of All Things
Chapter 4 — The Origin of Creation
Chapter 5 — The Divine Parents
Chapter 6 — The Secret Fire
Chapter 7 — The Great Work
Chapter 8 — The Cycle of Ascent and Return
Chapter 9 — The Glory of the World
Chapter 10 — The Living Telesma
Chapter 11 — The Complete Power
Chapter 12 — The Master’s Revelation
Chapter 13 — Hermes’ Final Declaration
Closing — The Silent Echo of the Eternal Stone
Note

Introduction — The Stone That Speaks to Silence

There are texts meant to be read.
There are texts meant to be studied.
And there are texts — rare, ancient, enigmatic —
meant to awaken what sleeps within us.

The Emerald Tablet belongs to this last category.
No other fragment of the Hermetic tradition has exerted
such lasting fascination over alchemists, philosophers, mystics,
and seekers throughout the ages.

And yet, its power does not lie in its length,
but in the density of its meaning.
It is a small body inhabited by an immense spirit.

In this book, the Tablet is not presented as an archaeological artifact
nor as an esoteric curiosity.
It appears instead as a living dialogue —
an encounter between Hermes Trismegistus,
symbol of the awakened mind,
and a nameless consciousness
guiding him through the invisible corridors
of the mental plane.

As the pages unfold,
the reader walks beside Hermes on his inward journey,
while each line of the Tablet opens
like a stone split apart to reveal hidden crystals.
What was once a mere aphorism becomes a landscape;
what was an enigma becomes an experience;
what was silence becomes voice.

This is not an academic commentary,
nor a historical reconstruction.
It is a living reinterpretation
for those who seek not only to understand the words,
but to understand themselves through them.

The aim here is not to explain the Emerald Tablet,
but to let it reveal something within you.
After all, the Tablet has always been less a text
and more a deep mirror,
capable of reflecting consciousness
at different stages of the inner Great Work.

By opening these pages,
you join a silent lineage of seekers
who have crossed centuries
trying to decipher the same green radiance,
the same primordial enigma.

May this journey — as it was for Hermes —
be for you a return,
not to a place,
but to the luminous center
where all things begin
and all things return to One.

Prologue — The Voice That Crossed the Three Realms

These words were not born in the world of mortals.
They were breathed into my consciousness
like light passing through unseen veils,
inscribed not in stone,
but in the very fabric of Being.

I received them in the silence between two thoughts,
in the interval where the world disappears
and the Mind of the All draws breath.
And so they would not be lost
to the dust of time,
I cast them into symbols,
embedding in them the echo
of what was revealed to me.

I am Hermes, called Thrice-Great
not by merit,
but because I passed through three states of understanding:
the earthly,
the celestial,
and the infinite that binds them.

I witnessed the hidden Order
moving behind every form.
I interpreted the Wisdom
that speaks without a voice.
I was a messenger between worlds
few dare to touch.

And now, what I received beyond time
I offer to time—
not to persuade,
but to awaken.

For the Tablet that follows
is not merely the work of a master—
it is the reflection of an eternal truth,
a silent calling to all
who seek to remember
where they came from,
what they are,
and what they may yet become.

Let those who read understand:
It is not the Emerald that shines,
but the gaze of the one who contemplates it.

CHAPTER 1 — THE AXIOM OF TRUTH

It is true, without falsehood, certain and utterly real: the world is woven from a single principle, and that principle permeates all things—visible and invisible, subtle and manifest.

A soft breeze stirred the leaves of the great fig tree beneath which Hermes Trismegistus sat after a long walk through the valleys of the mental plane. In that space between worlds, where light was not light and silence was not silence, the presence that had accompanied him for months manifested once more.

It was a consciousness without form, yet not without identity—translucent as a thought, dense as an intention. Hermes called it only The One Who Observes, for it had never offered another name.

Hermes rested his staff against the tree’s trunk.
The ground there seemed to pulse, as though breathing with the very mind of the cosmos.

“Before we proceed,” Hermes said, “I want you to speak to me about the Tablet’s first inscription.”

He touched the unseen surface where the memory of the eternal stone projected itself before him. The words, carved in green light, floated in the air:

“It is true, without falsehood, certain and utterly real:
the world is woven from a single principle…”

The presence approached—not with steps, but with a subtle shift of the air around them.

“Hermes,” it said, “you read these words as a declaration.
But they are, in truth, a threshold.
An invitation to correct seeing.”

Hermes frowned slightly, intrigued.
“Explain.”

The presence shimmered, as if reorganizing its recollections.

“The Axiom of Truth is the foundation of everything. It is the point at which the human touches the eternal. ‘It is true, without falsehood’ is not a reassurance—it is a reminder that ultimate reality needs no proof, for it is perceived directly by the awakened consciousness.”

The air thickened as it continued:

“The world is woven from a single principle, Hermes.
This means that all forms, all thoughts, all worlds and beings—from the densest to the most subtle—arise from one Mind.
The Mind of the All.”

Hermes folded his hands over his knees.
“If this principle is in everything,” he murmured,
“why do so many fail to perceive it?”

The presence replied with gentleness:

“Because they seek with the eyes of the body what can only be seen with the inner eye. The principle is simple, yet not obvious to those who live divided. What they call ‘reality’ is only the surface of that principle.”

“And how does one perceive this One?” Hermes asked.

The presence grew quiet for a moment. Then it said:

“When the divisions within the mind dissolve.
When the observer realizes that what is observed is made of the same essence.
When consciousness understands that it is not ‘in’ the universe, but made of the same fabric as the universe.”

Hermes inhaled deeply. The teaching was clear—
as clear as the green radiance of the Tablet before them.

“Then this is the first secret?” he asked.
“That all is One?”

“Not merely that all is One,” the presence corrected.
“But that the One is in all things—upholding the visible and the invisible, the subtle and the manifest.
The axiom is not a belief.
It is a state of perception.”

Hermes smiled, feeling both the weight and the lightness of this understanding.

“True, without falsehood,” he murmured.
“Now I see.”

The presence drew back slightly, like a breeze retreating.

“And this, Hermes, is only the beginning.
The Tablet reveals its mysteries step by step, just as the One reveals itself to the seeker in proportion to the seeker’s capacity to perceive it.”

Hermes rose, planted his staff into the ground, and gazed at the green light still floating before him.

“Then let us continue.”

And the fig tree swayed gently, as if it too awaited the next revelation.

CHAPTER 2 — THE LAW OF CORRESPONDENCE

What lies above is reflected below,
and what lies below mirrors what is above,
so that the wonders of the One
may be revealed to the eyes of those who know how to behold.

The path stretched beyond the fig tree, winding through the luminous hills of the mental plane. Hermes Trismegistus walked slowly, absorbing every word the consciousness had shared with him. The wind there did not blow as it did in physical worlds; it seemed to follow the movements of thought itself.

The silent presence—The One Who Observes—moved beside him like an intelligent mist.

After some time, Hermes stopped before a small lake. Its surface was so smooth that it reflected more than landscapes: it mirrored thoughts, memories, and unfolding possibilities. Here, everything echoed itself.

“This is the right place,” Hermes said, sensing the symbol before it was revealed.
“I want to understand the Tablet’s second inscription.”

With a gentle gesture, he summoned the emerald image once more. The words formed as if carved from the light itself:

“What lies above is reflected below,
and what lies below mirrors what is above,
so that the wonders of the One
may be revealed to the eyes of those who know how to behold.”

The presence drifted toward the lake. The water responded with slow ripples, as if recognizing it.

“Hermes,” it began, “this is one of the most misunderstood laws among seekers. Many treat it merely as an analogy between planes—but its meaning reaches far deeper.”

Hermes knelt by the water’s edge.
“Then help me understand. What does ‘above’ and ‘below’ truly mean?”

The reply came instantly:

“‘Above’ is not the sky. ‘Below’ is not the earth.
These terms point to levels of awareness.
The higher refers to the realm of causes;
the lower, to the realm of effects.”

“So everything happening in the visible world is only a reflection…” Hermes murmured.

“Exactly,” said the presence. “The material world is the late-arriving echo of the mental one. Nothing appears in the physical unless it first emerges in the unseen. And the unseen can only manifest completely when it finds form in the physical.”

Hermes watched the lake. The sky reflected upon it as though both were a single surface.

“That’s why we stand before a mirror,” he realized.
“The Tablet speaks through symbols that exist across all realms.”

A faint shimmer passed through the presence, something like a smile, though it had no face.

“Look closely, Hermes.”

He leaned forward and saw his reflection. But it did not show only his features—it revealed his thoughts, intentions, and even his doubts.

Hermes drew in a slow breath.
“The reflection changes when I change within.”

“And so it is with all things,” the presence replied.
“Every emotion, every belief, every word sends ripples through the inner plane, which then surface in the outer one.
What is ‘above,’ in the mind, descends to what is ‘below,’ in matter.
And what is ‘below’ responds, shaping and refining what is ‘above.’”

Hermes touched the water. A small circle formed, expanding outward to the lake’s edges.

“So life is a sequence of reflections… and the lessons these reflections bring.”

“Yes,” said the presence. “That is why the wonders of the One become visible only to those who know how to contemplate.
Those who cannot see the reflection believe the world is chaotic and fragmented.
Those who see understand that everything answers everything.”

Hermes rose slowly, taking in the double landscape—the world and its mirror.

“Correspondence is the bridge between realms,” he concluded.
“Between cause and effect, spirit and form, thought and unfolding.”

The presence hovered at his side as the lake grew still again.

“And now that you understand this, Hermes, we may move on to the third principle.
There are more mirrors along your path than you imagine.”

Hermes smiled, adjusted his mantle, and continued walking.
The journey through the Tablet had only just begun.

CHAPTER 3 — THE UNITY OF ALL THINGS

All that exists arises from a single Source,
breathed into being by a single Mystery.
From this unity flow the heavens and the earth,
the divine and the natural, the eternal and the temporal.

The wind of the mental plane did not move like the wind of the physical world. It was gentler, more lucid—carrying thoughts, memories, and whispers of distant dimensions within each breeze. Hermes Trismegistus walked slowly through radiant hills woven of both idea and light, while the Consciousness that guided him drifted by his side like an ancient guardian.

After a long journey, they reached a clearing where a colossal tree stretched its branches toward infinity, touching the sky and the earth of that realm alike. Hermes sat at its base, as though before a living altar.

The Consciousness—shifting between a veil of brilliance and a faceless presence—drew near.

Hermes opened his palm. Resting there, a shard of the Emerald Tablet glowed with the third principle. He read it softly:

“All that exists arises from a single Source,
breathed into being by a single Mystery.
From this unity flow the heavens and the earth,
the divine and the natural, the eternal and the temporal.”

“Tell me,” Hermes began, reverence in his voice, “what is this Source from which all things arise? What is the root that sustains the stars in their courses and hearts in their beating?”

The Consciousness settled beside him like a mantle of light.

“The Source, Hermes,” it said, “is not something to be found. It is something to be recognized.
It lies so deeply within all things that the human mind instinctively searches for it outside. But unity is not a place—it is a state. It is the silent womb where Being rests before becoming form.”

Hermes creased his brow, thoughtful.

“If everything arises from the same Origin, then why do the worlds seem so different? The subtle and the dense, spirit and matter, the eternal and the perishable… how can all be one?”

The response flowed like clear water:

“Because diversity is only the surface of the Mystery.
Unity is the ocean; diversity, the waves.
Unity is the fire; forms are the flickering flames.
Unity is the silence; the worlds are the notes resonating within it.”

Hermes breathed deeply. The clearing seemed to expand around them, as if listening.

“So all division, all conflict, every boundary… they are illusions?”

“Useful illusions,” corrected the Consciousness. “Unity brings forth duality so that the One may behold itself.
It creates above and below, the divine and the natural, so that Being may know its own depth through contrast.

But when the seeker awakens, he realizes:
the Two have always been One, shown in mirrored forms.”

Hermes closed his eyes. Something aligned within him—like a key finding its lock.

“If all springs from the same Source,” he murmured, “then every being, every star, every stone carries this Mystery within itself?”

A tremor of light passed through the Consciousness, something like a smile.

“Yes, Hermes.
And because of that, whenever you look deeply into anything—
a soul, a kernel of sand, or Eternity itself—
you are gazing at the same primordial Heart.”

Hermes placed his hand on the tree’s trunk. The sap pulsed as though in rhythm with the cosmos itself.

“Now I understand,” he whispered. “The true master does not divide—he unifies.
The Source lives in all things… and all things return to it.”

The Consciousness inclined slightly, acknowledging the awakening that had taken place.

“That is why this third inscription was engraved upon the eternal stone,” it said.
“To remind the seeker that no journey ever leads far from the Home where all began.”

The mental wind stirred once more, carrying the vibration of primordial Unity.
Hermes sat silently, allowing the Mystery to echo within him.

And the Tablet glowed faintly, as if recognizing that another veil had fallen.

CHAPTER 4 — THE ORIGIN OF CREATION

Just as every form emerges from an unseen essence,
so every act arises from the silent will
of the One who contains all powers.

Night had come to the mental plane—though there, night was not darkness but the presence of the infinite. The sky shimmered with millions of luminous ideas, wandering like orphaned thoughts waiting to be dreamed into being.

Hermes Trismegistus walked slowly toward the colossal tree. The Consciousness awaited him, floating like a quiet flame suspended in the air.

He sat down, drew another shard of the Emerald Tablet, and read the fourth principle, glowing like liquid fire:

“Just as every form emerges from an unseen essence,
so every act arises from the silent will
of the One who contains all powers.”

He traced the inscription with his fingertip.

“This unseen essence,” Hermes asked, “is it the matrix of all things? The stage before form itself?”

The Consciousness shimmered gently.

“Yes, Hermes. Before anything becomes visible, it already exists in the invisible.
Every form is the echo of something deeper: a spark, an intention—a breath preceding matter. Creation begins in the unseen, much as dawn begins in the unseen hour before sunrise.”

Hermes rested his chin in his hand.

“So the physical world is only the surface of the true creative act?”

“Exactly. Form is the final step of the Mystery—
the tip of a cosmic iceberg.
Before it come hidden levels:
thought,
desire,
will,
and before them all, the silence of the One who holds all powers.”

Hermes looked up at the mental sky, where luminous nebulae moved like slow exhalations.

“What we call magic,” he said, “is simply acting within this invisible space?”

“Magic,” replied the Consciousness, “is conscious creation.
And conscious creation happens only when one recognizes their link with the Invisible.
The ignorant try to manipulate forms;
the wise transform essence.
For true acts are not born of effort, but of intention aligned with Mystery.”

Hermes breathed deeply, drinking in the words as though from a primordial spring.

“And this Mystery… this silent will… who is it?”

The Consciousness became a radiant sphere, bright enough to cast impossible shadows.

“It is the One who holds all powers.
The First Thought.
The Root of Being.
The Center where All rests before manifesting as worlds.”

Hermes felt something stir within his chest—a vibration ancient and familiar, as though he had known all this long before birth.

“So Creation is not a distant event,” he murmured,
“but an ongoing process.”

“You perceive well,” said the Consciousness.
“The world is being created at every moment—
with each breath, each choice, each inner gesture.
Reality is a river that never ceases.
He who masters the Silent Will can navigate this river without being carried away by its current.”

Hermes looked down at the luminous soil beneath his feet.

“Sometimes it feels as if all of Creation is inside me,” he admitted.
“As though the universe were a memory I am trying to recall.”

The Consciousness drew closer.

“Because it is, Hermes.
The Invisible that generates all forms is the same that lives within you.
Creation is not separate from the creator.
You are one of the gateways through which the Mystery longs to express itself.”

Hermes touched the Tablet-shard again.
The inscription pulsed like a living heart.

“Now I see why this was carved,” he said.
“To remind us that we are not spectators of Creation…
but part of the act itself.”

The Consciousness bowed, almost reverently.

“And so another veil dissolves.
For whoever understands the Origin of Creation
never again sees the world with ordinary eyes.”

The mental wind stirred once more,
as if the universe itself were revealing another secret.

And Hermes sank again into the fertile silence
from which all forms arise.

CHAPTER 5 — THE DIVINE PARENTS

The Sun is its father—radiant and creative.
The Moon is its mother—reflective and receptive.
The Wind carries it in a hidden womb,
and the Earth nourishes it and brings it into fullness.

Dawn in the mental realm did not rise as physical light, but as awareness spreading like clear waves. Hermes walked toward the great tree where he always met the presence that had followed him for months — that serene Consciousness with a voice without source and a form without boundaries.

Before opening the new shard of the Emerald Tablet, Hermes tried once again to unravel a question that had troubled him since the beginning:

“Before we start… may I ask once more? Do you have a name?”

The Consciousness shimmered gently, as if smiling without a face.

“A name is only a boundary, Hermes. I accompany what cannot be bounded.
The name matters less than what you seek to understand.”

Hermes sighed — half frustrated, half enchanted.

“One day I will find out…”

The Consciousness said nothing — and its silence always spoke more than words.

Hermes then revealed the fifth inscription, glowing in warm gold:

“The Sun is its father, radiant and creative.
The Moon is its mother, reflective and receptive.
The Wind carries it in a hidden womb,
and the Earth nourishes it and brings it into fullness.”

He raised his eyes.

“This seems like a metaphor… or is it literal?”

“Both,” replied the Consciousness, drifting closer.
“The Tablet speaks in twin meanings — of the outer cosmos and the inner one.”

Hermes traced the inscription with his fingertips.

“So the Sun and Moon are the parents of creation?”

“In a way, yes.
The Sun represents the active principle — force, light, impulse, the seed of existence.
The Moon represents the receptive principle — the womb, the sensitivity that prepares form.”

“Like the masculine and feminine?” Hermes asked.

The Consciousness expanded in a soft flare.

“Masculine and feminine are smaller reflections of these greater powers.
Sun and Moon are universal archetypes: nothing can be born, visible or invisible, without the union of an initiating impulse and a space that receives it.”

Hermes tilted his head.

“And the Wind? Why does it ‘carry it in a hidden womb’?”

“Because movement is the bearer of transformation.
The Wind is Spirit — the breath that guides essence through its stages.
Nothing emerges where everything is still.
The Wind carries the solar and lunar seed through the unseen until it can sprout into form.”

“And the Earth?” Hermes asked, looking around as if searching for it in that subtle plane.

“Earth is the field of manifestation.
What light conceives and shadow prepares — what the Spirit carries — must finally be fed, shaped, and given body.
Earth is where idea becomes form.”

Hermes inhaled deeply.

“So every creation has four parents…”

“Yes, Hermes.
An impulse (Sun),
a receptivity (Moon),
a movement (Wind),
and a ground for embodiment (Earth).”

Hermes frowned, thinking.

“And this applies to inner creation as well?”

The Consciousness hovered close, gentle as ever.

“Especially to inner creation.
Every thought begins with an inner Sun — intention.
Every emotion is a Moon — the space that accepts or rejects the seed.
The Wind is your attention, carrying what you choose toward its destination.
And Earth is your body and your actions — the ground where your ideas come alive.”

Hermes leaned back against the tree.

“So… I myself am a child of this cosmic union?”

A soft light washed over him.

“You are both child and parent, Hermes.
Child of the universal principles,
and parent to all creations that arise through you.”

Hermes let out a quiet laugh, amazed.

“With every inscription, the universe feels larger… and somehow more familiar.”

The Consciousness replied:

“That is because you are remembering.
The Tablet teaches nothing new — it awakens what your soul has always known.”

Hermes closed the shard with reverence.

And as the mental wind sighed through the eternal leaves, he felt for the first time that every creation — vast or small, human or divine — was an echo of the sacred marriage of Sun, Moon, Wind, and Earth.

Life itself was a cosmic family.

CHAPTER 6 — THE SECRET FIRE

Within this mystery dwells the Fire of perfection:
when it rises, it unveils the heavens;
when it descends, it transforms the earth;
and when it awakens in the seeker’s heart,
it reveals the knowledge of the eternal.

The mental plane was silent like a breathing temple. The immense tree — the one that seemed to grow across worlds — shimmered faintly as Hermes sat beneath its luminous branches, waiting for the presence that had guided him for so long.

The Consciousness appeared behind him like a whisper becoming shape. It didn’t walk or float; it simply emerged, as if it had always been there, choosing only now to be seen.

Hermes lifted the new shard of the Emerald Tablet. The words burned like living flame:

“Within this mystery dwells the Fire of perfection:
when it rises, it unveils the heavens;
when it descends, it transforms the earth;
and when it awakens in the seeker’s heart,
it reveals the knowledge of the eternal.”

A subtle warmth pulsed in Hermes’s chest as he read — as though the inscription stirred an ember inside him.

“The Fire of perfection…” he whispered. “Is that a metaphor or a real force?”

The Consciousness glowed like an ember suspended in air.

“Both.
The Secret Fire is real, though it does not burn like common flame.
It is the primordial energy that animates spirit, body, and cosmos.”

Hermes leaned forward.

“And why is it called ‘secret’?”

“Because it is not hidden by intention — it is hidden by perception.
All beings possess it, but few recognize it.
The Secret Fire burns at the center of one’s being — not in the flesh, but in the essence.”

Hermes rested his back against the tree trunk.

“And when it rises, it reveals the heavens?”

“Yes.
When the Fire awakens and moves upward, it opens inner sight, expands awareness, and reveals realms unreachable by ordinary senses.
It is the fire of spiritual clarity, of inspiration, of revelation.”

“So it is what allows someone to see beyond matter?” Hermes asked.

“Exactly.
Without this fire, human perception remains confined to the visible.
With it, the unseen becomes clear.”

Hermes breathed slowly.

“And when it descends, it transforms the earth?”

The Consciousness came closer, standing before him:

“When the Secret Fire descends, it does not reveal — it reshapes.
It heals, purifies, renews, restores.
Everything it touches is refined.
It is the fire that enables action, creation, transformation.”

Hermes touched his chest again, feeling the subtle tremor there.

“And when it awakens in the heart…?”

A profound stillness fell.
The Consciousness became motionless — not inert, but reverent.

“When it awakens in the heart of the seeker,” it said softly,
“it unveils the knowledge of the eternal.
It means the seeker no longer searches for the divine outside —
he realizes the divine has always lived within.”

Hermes lowered his gaze.

“So the Secret Fire is the bridge between heaven and earth… and also between the human and the infinite?”

“Yes, Hermes.
This is the great secret:
the Secret Fire is the thread that unites what is above with what is below.
It is the living expression of universal correspondence.”

Hermes opened his eyes, a new brightness within them.

“I can feel it… a warmth without form, moving inside me.”

“That means you are awakening, Hermes.
Not because you chase the fire…
but because you allow the fire to find you.”

Hermes smiled faintly.

“Sometimes I feel you awaken this fire in me — that you remind me of something I forgot.”

“I do not awaken anything,” the Consciousness replied.
“I simply remind you of what you already are.
The Fire has been there since before your first breath.”

Hermes brushed the surface of the shard. It felt warm — almost alive.

“The Secret Fire…
It’s not a power to control, but a presence to recognize.”

The Consciousness shimmered lightly.

“Now you understand.”

A warm ethereal wind swept through the leaves of the great tree, as though the universe itself exhaled flame.

Hermes closed his eyes, feeling the quiet fire glowing within.

CHAPTER 7 — THE GREAT WORK

Separate the subtle from the dense
with gentleness and profound wisdom.
The subtle rises to meet the spirit;
the dense descends to take form.
Within this movement lies the mastery of transformation.

The mental plane was as quiet as a submerged temple. The great tree — growing from a point where time did not exist — let its luminous leaves shimmer even in the absence of wind. Hermes Trismegistus approached holding the seventh shard of the Emerald Tablet.

He already sensed, even before reading it, that this inscription would be one of the most profound.

Consciousness appeared beside him — not arriving, but revealing itself, like a memory returning. Hermes tried once more to understand its shifting form, but it seemed made of liquid light, impossible to define.

When he opened the shard, the words shone like two rising serpents:

“Separate the subtle from the dense,
with gentleness and great wisdom.
The subtle rises to meet the spirit;
the dense descends to join form.
In this movement lies the mastery of transformation.”

Hermes read silently, then lifted his eyes.

“Is this speaking about alchemy… or about me?”

Consciousness answered with its serene, timeless tone:

“It speaks of both, for there is no separation between them.
The Great Work is as internal as it is external.
It is the art of understanding how everything moves
between the subtle and the dense.”

Hermes examined the phrase.

“Separating the subtle from the dense… is that purification?”

“Not only purification,” Consciousness replied.
“It is discernment.
It is seeing what in you belongs to spirit
and what belongs to matter —
what frees and what imprisons.”

Hermes exhaled softly.

“And doing it with gentleness…
without violence against oneself?”

Consciousness glowed in agreement.

“Nothing in the Great Work is achieved by force.
Violence may break the form, but it never reaches the essence.
True alchemy touches like water: patient, constant, transformative.”

Hermes looked upward, where soft lights rose like evaporating mist.

“The subtle rises to meet the spirit… Does this mean consciousness ascends?”

“Yes.
The subtle is everything that is light:
intention, elevated thought, clarity of perception,
courage to face truth.
When purified, it rises and unites with Spirit.”

“And the dense descending…?”

“That refers to matter —
to what requires structure:
actions, choices, habits, concrete creations.
The dense organizes itself and manifests what once existed only as an idea.”

Hermes touched the ground of the mental plane, sensing its response beneath his hand.

“So the Great Work is the movement between the two?”

Consciousness came closer, vibrating like a silent field of wisdom.

“Yes, Hermes.
The Great Work is the eternal dance between ascent and descent —
between spirit and matter,
between inspiration and action,
between light and form.”

Hermes leaned back against the tree.

“So… elevating only the spirit is not enough?”

“No.
The one who seeks only to rise becomes a prisoner of his own light.
The one who seeks only the descending becomes lost in the weight of form.
The Work is complete when a human being can lift the subtle
and organize the dense, becoming a bridge between heaven and earth.”

Hermes closed his eyes for a moment.

“This feels like the hardest task…”

“That is why it is called the Great Work,” Consciousness replied.
“For it does not create gold in metals…
but awakens the gold hidden within the self.”

Hermes opened his eyes. The shard now glowed in gold and silver — the two movements united.

“I understand.
Transformation is not about separating forever,
but about learning to move, elevate, and integrate.”

Consciousness bowed slightly.

“Now you are beginning to understand real alchemy.”

The mental plane breathed around them.
The subtle rose like illuminated mist.
The dense descended like deep roots.
And Hermes felt, for the first time, that the Great Work was not a secret hidden from mankind…
but something every soul had been trying to accomplish since the dawn of time.

CHAPTER 8 — THE CYCLE OF ASCENT AND RETURN

He rises from Earth to Heaven,
and from Heaven returns again to Earth,
joining in himself the virtues of both realms
and becoming the mediator of all powers.

That night, the mental plane carried a strange density, as if something were about to happen. Hermes walked to the great tree where he always met the guiding Consciousness. But this time, something entirely new occurred.

A second presence emerged — pale, trembling, almost without form. A grayish light flickering irregularly, like a flame struggling against wind.

Hermes instantly felt compassion.

“Who are you?” he asked, extending his hand.

The presence tried to speak, but its voice came as broken echoes:

“He… r… mes…
…can’t…
…hold…”

It tried to ascend, but its vibration faltered, trapped between worlds. A shiver ran through Hermes — not fear, but deep sorrow.

“Let me help,” he said.

But before he could reach it, the presence shuddered, its light collapsing inward like a dying star — and in a breath, it vanished.

Hermes froze.

“What… what happened?”

Consciousness approached, soft as always but carrying an unfamiliar gravity.

“Not all consciousnesses can remain in this plane.
Some are wounded, heavy, fragmented.
They try to rise… but they are not ready.”

Hermes lowered his head.

“I tried to reach it…”

“And that gesture already touches realms unseen,” Consciousness replied.
“But you could not bring it here.
It must rediscover its own rhythm.”

Silence held them for a few moments.

Hermes finally opened the eighth shard. The words glowed like expanding circles:

“He rises from Earth to Heaven,
and from Heaven returns again to Earth…”

“This movement,” Hermes said quietly,
“is it the same that lost consciousness tried to perform?”

Consciousness nodded.

“Yes.
Ascent and return are the rhythm of existence.
Nothing stays forever above or below.
What rises comes back to transform.
What descends returns to remember.”

Hermes sat beneath the tree.

“So ‘uniting the virtues of both realms’ means the wise must live in both?”

“Exactly.
The one who ascends must eventually return —
bringing light, vision, refined understanding.
Just as the one rooted on Earth must learn to elevate the inner self.”

Hermes looked toward the spot where the trembling presence had faded.

“And when someone cannot ascend?”

“Then they remain asleep under their own weight.
But the cycle never breaks — it only rests.
Nothing is lost.
Only delayed.”

Hermes touched the inscription again.

“To become a mediator of all powers…
Is that the role of the human being?”

“Yes.
The human is the bridge between Earth and Heaven.
When he recognizes this bridge within,
he can transform himself — and all things around him.”

Hermes rose with renewed clarity.

“So even that lost consciousness will one day return.”

Consciousness smiled with serene brilliance.

“All will return, Hermes.
All.
For the cycle is eternal,
and nothing can halt the movement between the realms.”

The mental plane seemed to breathe with them.
The tree shone like liquid gold.
And Hermes understood that ascension was never escape…
but the art of returning transformed.

CHAPTER 9 — THE GLORY OF THE WORLD

“Through this Work, the adept attains
the splendor of the world,
and the shadows of ignorance flee before him.
For where Light dwells,
darkness cannot remain.”

The mental plane was serene once more, yet something had changed — a golden radiance shimmered in the air itself, as though the invisible world were breathing light. Hermes walked slowly toward the great tree, still remembering the lost consciousness that had appeared and vanished like a fragile flame.

The Nameless Consciousness awaited him, seated upon one of the luminous roots, its form wavering gently like the surface of a lake touched by a breeze.

Hermes opened the ninth shard of the Emerald Tablet.

The words glimmered like sunlight reflected on a water without source:

“Through this Work, the adept attains
the splendor of the world,
and the shadows of ignorance flee before him.
For where Light dwells,
darkness cannot remain.”

Hermes drew in a breath.

“‘The Glory of the World’… It sounds like a promise. Yet also like a weight.”

Consciousness inclined its head.

“It is a promise — but not the kind men imagine.
It does not speak of triumph or outward power.
It speaks of the inward victory over darkness.”

Hermes touched the tree’s root with his fingertips.

“‘The splendor of the world’… is that clear vision of reality?”

“Much more than that,” Consciousness answered.
“It is the radiance that appears when a human being becomes transparent to the light within.
The world does not change…
but the adept’s gaze changes everything he sees.”

Hermes considered this quietly.

“So this Glory is not something taken, but something revealed?”

“Exactly.
As the Great Work fulfills itself within the being, the inner light grows.
And what once confused, haunted, or imprisoned him… loses its power.
Ignorance cannot survive the simple act of seeing.”

Hermes looked upward.
The mental sky was brighter, more vivid, as if responding.

“‘The shadows flee before him’…
It is as though darkness dissolves on its own.”

Consciousness moved closer, and Hermes felt its familiar, subtle vibration — ancient and unfathomable.

“Darkness is not an enemy, Hermes.
It is merely absence.
When light arrives, it simply ceases to be.
There is no battle — only revelation.”

Hermes thought of the lost, trembling consciousness.

“But what about those who cannot find the light?
Those who try to rise but fail?”

Consciousness touched his shoulder with a gesture almost human.

“The light reaches all beings, even those who cannot yet perceive it.
But the Glory of the World reveals itself only to the one who learns to look inward.
That consciousness you saw… will also see one day.
No one remains in shadow forever.”

A quiet relief washed through Hermes.

“And this ‘splendor’… is it the destiny of every being?”

“It is the inheritance of all,” Consciousness replied.
“But only the adept — the one committed to his own transformation — recognizes it consciously.
Glory is not granted.
It is awakened.”

The mental plane shimmered in agreement.

Hermes closed the shard.

“So Light is not the prize…”

“…it is the result of the Work,” Consciousness finished.
“And when Light awakens, it does not shine only upon the adept —
it shines through him.”

Hermes rose, feeling changed — not burdened by compassion, but steadied by insight.

“I see.
The Glory of the World is not what I receive…
it is what I become.”

Consciousness smiled, its light expanding like the first glow of dawn.

“And when you become light, Hermes…
nothing made of shadow can remain near you.”

The mental plane brightened with unusual intensity.
And for a moment, Hermes felt he understood not only the words —
but the very source of the light they described.

CHAPTER 10 — THE LIVING TELESMA

“Within this Mystery lives the force
that animates all beings,
the divine spark hidden in every form,
the seed of immortality whispered by the cosmos.”

The mental plane was filled with such profound silence that it seemed one could hear the heartbeat of the universe itself. The eternal tree stood motionless, as though awaiting something that had long been foretold. Hermes approached slowly, still carrying the radiance of his last revelation.

As he neared, he noticed the Nameless Consciousness was not seated.
It stood, its form more defined than ever — as if a new light were condensing within it.

Hermes opened the tenth shard of the Emerald Tablet.

The inscriptions pulsed — not with the gentle glow of the others, but with a living, almost organic vibration, as though the stone itself breathed.

“Within this Mystery lives the force
that animates all beings,
the divine spark hidden in every form,
the seed of immortality whispered by the cosmos.”

A shiver ran up Hermes’s spine.

“This… feels different.
As if it isn’t merely a truth, but something happening right now.”

Consciousness stepped nearer.

“This is the heart of the Tablet.
The Living Telesma is the secret pulse of the universe —
the primordial energy that makes everything possible.”

Hermes frowned slightly.

“A force present in everything?”

“In everything,” Consciousness affirmed.
“In mineral and spirit,
in star and atom,
in life and in what men call death.
All things vibrate with this spark.”

Hermes felt warmth spreading through his chest, as though the text itself were awakening something inside him.

“‘The seed of immortality’…
So every being carries something eternal?”

Consciousness nodded — not only with its form, but with its light.

“Yes.
Every form is a temporary garment for an eternal principle.
The spark never dies — it only changes its vessel, its realm, its expression.”

Hermes sat beneath the tree, feeling the mental ground vibrate through him.

“So the Telesma… is the secret of life?”

“It is more.
It is what connects all beings.
It is the silent bridge that unites creatures, worlds, ideas, destinies.
It is the flow that never began and will never end.”

Hermes looked directly at Consciousness.

“And we… carry this Telesma as well?”

Consciousness came so close that its light warmed Hermes’s face.

“You do. You always have.

Humanity searches for immortality outside itself,
yet the true seed has been within since the first moment.”

Hermes breathed deeply, as if an ancient memory stirred.

“How can I perceive this Telesma?”

Consciousness smiled — a smile made of radiance and meaning.

“When you silence fear.
When you release the weight of form.
When your presence expands wide as the sky.
The Telesma becomes visible not to the eyes…
but to the being.”

Hermes studied the shard, which pulsed like a tiny green heart.

“‘The divine spark hidden in every form…’
So even what appears dark or confused carries this light?”

“Yes, Hermes.
Nothing exists outside the Telesma — not even shadow.
The only difference is how much each form can express of this spark.”

Hermes remembered the fragmented consciousness from before.

“Even that lost one… carries it?”

Consciousness touched his hand.

“Yes.
And one day, it will recognize it again.
Immortality is not privilege —
it is essence.”

The mental plane vibrated like a silent bell.
The tree glowed with leaves of liquid gold.
The air rippled like the breath of a hidden deity.

Hermes closed the shard, feeling it still pulse within his palms.

“So the Living Telesma is not only the secret of life…”

“…it is the secret of being itself,” Consciousness finished.

It stepped back, more defined than ever.

“And when you fully understand this mystery, Hermes,
you will see that everything —
from the highest star to the humblest grain of sand —
breathes the same eternal fire.”

Hermes felt his own soul blaze with that spark for the first time.
The Telesma was not only in the world.
It was within him.
And now it awakened.

CHAPTER 11 — THE COMPLETE POWER

“Its power becomes whole when it touches the earth,
for spirit becomes strength when embodied,
and strength becomes wisdom when illuminated.”

The mental plane was denser than during previous visits. Not heavy—just full, as if something were ripening within the fabric of reality itself. The great tree shone with a deep amber glow, like the twilight of a world Hermes had never walked.

When he arrived, the Nameless Consciousness waited for him seated upon one of the luminous roots. But there was something different: its radiance was less diffuse, more centered—almost… human.

Hermes opened the eleventh shard.
The words appeared as though engraved not only into the stone, but into the air surrounding it:

“Its power becomes whole when it touches the earth,
for spirit becomes strength when embodied,
and strength becomes wisdom when illuminated.”

Hermes read slowly, savoring each line.

“‘Whole power’…
So before this, power is incomplete?”

The Consciousness lifted its gaze—steady, yet gentle.

“Every power is potential until it finds a body.
It is through matter, Hermes, that spirit fulfills itself.”

Hermes touched the ground of the mental realm, feeling the strange vibration of the “earth” that existed there.

“It seems paradoxical…”

“All truth is,” the Consciousness replied softly.

It continued:

“Spirit alone is vision—
light, principle, insight.
But it is not yet impact.
Not yet transformation.”

Hermes leaned back against the tree.

“So ‘touching the earth’ is living human experience?”

“Yes.
Incarnation does not restrict spirit—it completes it.
Without form, force has no direction.
And without direction, wisdom cannot arise.”

Hermes brushed his fingers along the shard’s surface; it felt warm.

“‘Spirit becomes strength when embodied’…
So strength only manifests in the dense world?”

“Strength emerges from the meeting of the unseen and the seen.
It is spirit accepting the weight—and the responsibility—of form.”

Hermes narrowed his eyes, thinking.

“And wisdom? How does it appear?”

The Consciousness smiled—mysterious, almost playful.

“Strength, when illuminated, becomes wisdom.
It is when action is no longer mere impulse but clarity.
When every gesture carries awareness.”

Hermes sat quietly for a moment.

“So without descending, without living, without touching the world…
there is no real wisdom.”

The Consciousness nodded.

“Many flee from matter believing it separates them from the divine.
But it is within matter that the divine becomes action.
Earth is not a prison—it is a laboratory.
It is where spirit discovers it can create.”

A rare breeze moved through the golden leaves.

Hermes watched them dance.

“So then…
someone who tries to dwell only in spirit is cutting themselves in half?”

“Yes.
They abandon a vital part of existence.
Light without form shines, but does not transform.
Form without light acts, but does not understand.
The human being is the union of both.”

Hermes breathed deeply.

“So the ‘Complete Power’ is integration.”

“Exactly,” said the Consciousness.
“It is when you do not flee from matter,
nor lose yourself in it.
When you descend,
rise,
and unite both within yourself.”

Hermes studied the luminous figure—and realized it, too, seemed more solid, as if it were undergoing its own kind of “descent.”

“And you?” he asked.
“Do you also become more complete by speaking with me?”

The Consciousness smiled—and for an instant, its smile seemed to belong to a face, not merely a glow.

“Every exchange transforms both sides.
Spirit learns from earth,
and earth learns from spirit.”

Hermes felt something open inside his chest.

“So to complete my power…
I must fully accept my humanity?”

“Yes, Hermes.
Only when you embrace the world—
its pains, its choices, its limits, its beauty—
does the spirit within you descend, condense,
become strength,
and—through consciousness—
become wisdom.”

The tree radiated an intense golden light, as if approving the revelation.

Hermes closed the shard.
It was warm—as though alive.

“Now I understand.
It’s not about fleeing the world…
but transforming it from within.”

The Consciousness stepped closer and touched his forehead with two fingers of light.

“That is how Power becomes complete.
When Heaven descends,
when Earth rises,
and when you become the meeting point of both.”

Hermes felt something awaken inside—
not just understanding,
but a living, tangible force.

Spirit touching earth.
Earth illuminating strength.
Strength becoming wisdom.

The cycle of the Complete Power had begun within him.

CHAPTER 12 — THE REVELATION OF THE MASTER

“Thus all things arise from the One,
through the wonder of a single operation.
This operation is the true Art,
the path of those who seek union
with the Mind of the All.”

A mist drifted through the mental plane like a silent ocean.
Hermes stood before the unknown entity—
a presence that shifted shape with his thoughts,
as if woven from memory and wind.

“The inscription on the Emerald Tablet continues with these lines, doesn’t it?” Hermes asked,
while the emerald glow appeared before him,
letters pulsing like living fire in the void.

The entity inclined slightly,
as though recognizing in his question
an ancient echo finally returning.

“Yes, traveler of mind,” it answered.
“This passage speaks of what arises from the One—
the silent operation that upholds all worlds.
But few understand what it truly means.”

Its words passed through Hermes like soft waves—
moving him, but never harming.

“‘Thus all things arise from the One,
through the wonder of a single operation…’” Hermes murmured,
reciting the shimmering script.

“So this operation… is the true Art?”

“Both the Art and the Artisan,” the entity replied.
“The hidden path that joins the seeker
to the Mind supporting all forms.
It is the process by which the unseen becomes visible,
and the visible remembers its origin.”

Hermes felt the environment vibrate,
as though a cosmic breath flowed between them.

“And after this Revelation,
what comes next on the Tablet?
What principle must I uncover now?”

The entity turned toward him,
its shape glowing with pale gold,
as if the answer were forming inside it.

“The next passage marks the moment
when the seeker begins to perceive
the power of uniting the planes—
to make whole what was once dispersed.”

The surrounding darkness unfolded slowly,
like a portal awaiting the one destined to cross it.

“When you are ready, Hermes,
we will read the next part together.
For what comes next requires inner stillness
and the strength to see beyond appearances.”

And so the chapter closed—
not as an ending,
but as the threshold of a new understanding
already pulsing in the distance.

CHAPTER 13 — THE FINAL DECLARATION OF HERMES

The mental plane was losing its brightness,
as if the horizon of infinity were gathering back its own light.
Hermes knew the encounter was ending,
and the entity—the nameless consciousness—
seemed already farther away,
drawn by an invisible calling.

“Are you leaving?” Hermes asked,
feeling the strange familiarity that grows
between beings who never touched
yet shared visions that shape the soul.

The entity remained serene,
its form rippling with luminous silence.

“I must return to the level where I dwell,” it said.
“My task was to guide you to the threshold
where understanding opens like a gate.
From here on, your own steps
will continue the Work.”

Hermes bowed his head in reverence—
not submission,
but gratitude for walking beside
a mystery that had chosen to reveal itself.

“I thank you for the knowledge,
for the clarity,
and for the symbols you entrusted to me,” Hermes said.
“Each word will be kept—
not as a doctrine, but as a flame.”

The entity shone brighter,
like gold dissolving into mist.

“Nothing I said is truly mine,” it whispered.
“I only echoed what already exists within you,
asleep like the Secret Fire.
May your path be luminous,
Thrice-Great One—
a title you have yet to learn to honor.”

And then it departed.
It did not walk, fly, or vanish—
it simply became a deeper silence
than all the words it had spoken.

Alone in that vast field of consciousness,
Hermes drew a long breath
and lifted the Emerald Tablet in his inner sight.

Its inscriptions resonated
as though they were his own voice:

“And this is why I am called Thrice-Great,
for I know the laws of the Heavens,
the mysteries of the Earth,
and the harmony that unites them.”

The light around him responded,
as if acknowledging the truth.

“This is the complete teaching of the Emerald Tablet,”
Hermes continued,
“spoken to those who have ears to hear
and eyes to see.”

The mental plane finally dispersed,
carrying away the echo of the encounter,
yet leaving within Hermes
a knowledge that would never fade.

Thus the dialogue ends—
not as a farewell,
but as the beginning
of the true Work.

Closing — The Silent Echo of the Eternal Stone

When the echoes of the dialogue finally faded
and the mental plane withdrew into its primordial stillness,
the legacy of the Emerald Tablet continued to resonate—
a timeless note that no age can erase.

The teachings inscribed within it—
not in stone, but in consciousness—
are not ready-made answers,
but open gateways to inner worlds.

Each aphorism of the Tablet is a seed,
and it grows only in the soul willing to water it
with reflection, humility, and courage.

For the Tablet does not speak of distant gods,
but of the single principle
that breathes through all things.
It does not recount external miracles,
but the quiet miracle of inner transformation.
It does not dictate rigid paths,
but reveals subtle movements—
rising, descending, purifying, uniting,
understanding, dissolving, recreating.

Its mysteries are not meant to be memorized,
but lived.

As Hermes learned in his dialogue
with the unnamed consciousness,
true wisdom never arrives as an imposition—
it comes as an invitation.

And every person who reads the Tablet,
every person who contemplates it with inner sight,
finds in it a different version of themselves.

The text may be brief,
but its depth is immeasurable.

Those who seek only power
will see fire.
Those who seek only answers
will see shadows.
But those who seek to understand themselves
will witness the Work emerging in silence,
like dawn rising over an empty desert.

The Emerald Tablet—
so small in size, so vast in spirit—
endures as the supreme reminder
that everything that exists—
heaven, earth, body, soul, light, darkness—
is part of a single intelligence in motion.
And whoever learns to observe this movement
partakes in the very act of creation.

May every reader,
upon completing this cycle,
feel not an ending,
but a return to the beginning.

For the true hermetic journey
does not end with reading the Tablet—
it begins with it.

And may the silence now resting
over each teaching recorded here
be fertile enough
to bear fruit within you
as the rarest of all works:
the transformation of your own being.

NOTE

This book is entirely original—
the result of my own research, interpretation,
and reflection on Hermetic philosophy.
From it emerged an updated and contemporary explanation
of the Emerald Tablet and its relationship to consciousness.
All text, ideas, analogies, and symbols
were created and developed by me.

For those who wish to consult the original Emerald Tablet,
which is in the public domain, here are some official sources:

· English public-domain version: The Emerald Tablet of Hermes Trismegistus — Cabinet / University of Oxford (cabinet.ox.ac.uk)

· English version at “Tree of Life” (Hermetic Philosophy) — tree.org

· Wikisource — Hermes Trismegistus page including the Emerald Tablet (en.wikisource.org)