“Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you. For every one that asks receives; and he that seeks finds and to him that knocks it shall be opened.”
But only if you knock with silence.
Only if you knock with longing. There is a door hidden in the din of the world.
No sign marks it. No map leads to it.
And yet—those who hunger for the Invisible find it.
A worn oak door in a forgotten corner of the city of man.
Its hinges hold centuries. Its threshold holds a secret. A rose blooms upon the cross—red as blood, silent as love.
Beneath it, the letters: R and C
The sign of the Inner Brotherhood.
Not of flesh and blood, but of spirit and fire. A solitary figure stands before it—hooded, cloaked in midnight blue.
One hand raised to knock.
The other at his lips. He has left behind the world of noise and names.
He seeks the Beloved behind the veil of matter.
He has heard the call of the Rose blooming in the heart,
and come like a lover—
not to conquer, but to be undone. This is not the door of answers, but the threshold of the Great Question.
The initiate knocks not upon wood,
but upon the gate of his own being.
For the temple is within,
and the door opens inward. And what lies within?
Not gold. Not crowns.
Only the endless silence.
Only the lamp of your own soul.
Only the fragrance of the Rose.
Only the Cross that leads you Home. For those who seek with reverence…
and knock with the hand of the heart…
the Door shall be opened. And what you find there
will be the mystery
of your Self.
The door is made of oak, dark with age, yet firm as the trunk of the Tree of Life
A solitary figure stands at the threshold, robed in midnight blue. He is not a priest, nor a scholar, but a lover. A disciple of the unseen. One hand raised in a gentle knock, the other pressed to his lips—not to hush others, but to still his own mind.
He does not knock on wood alone—he knocks upon the sealed door of his own heart.
To knock is to seek entry. To step within is to undergo initiation
the door opens inward. Always inward.
disciple of the mysteries who finds the old sturdy non-descript door and knocks softly to be allowed in, like a lover coming to meet his beloved. It shows a monk or a disciple knocking at a wooden door with the rose cross on it. He has his fingers to his lips signalling the importance of silence and mystery and secrecy. On the walls of the building are the letters "RC" for "Rose Cross" You can quote the Jesus quote about "knock and it shall be opened to you" The student of the mysteries is one who seeks out the hidden door and has the courage to request entry, yet also the subtlty and honor to do this all silently, secretly, intimately. The mystical heart of the Christ mysteries... The Rose the blooms within the heart of one's being... One must knock at the door of one's own heart. One must seek the rose at the center of the cross. The outer world, the society at large does not know this symbol, does not know this door - does not even know that they exist, hidden within the roar and din of the city. But the one who seeks the inner ideal may come to discover this mysterious door. What lies within? The door opens into darkness, into the vast expanse of the inner journey. There is nothing to fear within that, for all you will ever find within the Great Mystery is more and more of your self.
