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Sunday, October 28, 2007
And he dwelled the night, passing a late horizon in the woods
Touched each branch he passed by imprinting philter drenched hands
His feet had worn out bleeding frost in the cold…
He would realize he is alive, with the watching mist disappearing in the ambience
Taking each breadth with the vision of the forerunner.
He had now resisted each inscribed temptation of the Satan as if he had walked through the garden of the Gethsemane. But he realized soon enough he was not Jesus of Nazareth nor will nature will overturn on his death.
He uttered: “I am not holy nor is my journey over…”
And upon this he remembered the words of one of his teacher’s
‘When you were a wandering desire in the mist, I too was there, a wandering desire.
Then we sought one another, and out of our eagerness dreams were born. And dreams were time limitless, and dreams were space without measure.
And when you were a silent word upon Life’s quivering lips, I too was there, another silent word.
Then life uttered us and we came down the years throbbing with memories of yesterday was death conquered and tomorrow was birth pursued.
And now we are in God’s hands. You are a sun in His right hand and I an earth in His lift hand.
Yet you are not more, shining, then I shone upon.
And we, sun and earth, are but the beginning of a greater sun and a greater earth. And always shall we be the beginning.
You are your own forerunner, you the stranger passing by the gate of my garden.
And I too am my own forerunner, though I sit in the shadows of my trees and seem motionless.’
Touched each branch he passed by imprinting philter drenched hands
His feet had worn out bleeding frost in the cold…
He would realize he is alive, with the watching mist disappearing in the ambience
Taking each breadth with the vision of the forerunner.
He had now resisted each inscribed temptation of the Satan as if he had walked through the garden of the Gethsemane. But he realized soon enough he was not Jesus of Nazareth nor will nature will overturn on his death.
He uttered: “I am not holy nor is my journey over…”
And upon this he remembered the words of one of his teacher’s
‘When you were a wandering desire in the mist, I too was there, a wandering desire.
Then we sought one another, and out of our eagerness dreams were born. And dreams were time limitless, and dreams were space without measure.
And when you were a silent word upon Life’s quivering lips, I too was there, another silent word.
Then life uttered us and we came down the years throbbing with memories of yesterday was death conquered and tomorrow was birth pursued.
And now we are in God’s hands. You are a sun in His right hand and I an earth in His lift hand.
Yet you are not more, shining, then I shone upon.
And we, sun and earth, are but the beginning of a greater sun and a greater earth. And always shall we be the beginning.
You are your own forerunner, you the stranger passing by the gate of my garden.
And I too am my own forerunner, though I sit in the shadows of my trees and seem motionless.’
“It is certainly our beliefs, which provide the foundation to a strong will,
When we strive there are many thorns in the way but the faith in the two as a belief in one
Can put astray far distances, and surely in passion and with heart the destiny is ours…”
When we strive there are many thorns in the way but the faith in the two as a belief in one
Can put astray far distances, and surely in passion and with heart the destiny is ours…”
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