The incense has been laid upon the fire and offered with the prayers. Natron and water have provided the purification, both the natron and water I poured into ritual bowls and the natural salt and water of the tears we have given to our dead and to Wesir, the Lord of Them All.
Six hours into the ceremonies Wesir is upright again, standing among the icons of the rest of the gods. We are reminded by the visual change that the god Who gave Himself utterly for us was not lost in the giving; rather He came up stronger than before and able to provide even more to us in the giving. Like that other deity to Whom He was often compared by Victorian Egyptologists, He has gone to prepare a place for us, to whence we will go someday after our final judgment to join all of those people who have gone before us. We do not have to make that journey alone. Not only does He wait there, but so do all of those who have already gone - and all of us who will someday join them have shared in that journey once again, for another year, as we keep the annual vigil.
The sun will rise in another hour or so. For now, the sky lightens and the city stirs, and the promise of life is still shrouded in darkness. But we know it is there, and we have Wesir to thank.