12. When a Poet Sees
- The Poet had returned to the village on the plains after many days and nights spent in the hills, and he had communed with the Sage, and even with his father, and he knew what was to come, and it was good with him.
- And he could see, and he could hear, and he could feel, and he was without fear, and he was without confusion, for his path was clear, and the way was set for him.
- And he perceived that at last he should speak again to the people of the village, even that he might fulfil his divine calling.
- And he did stand in the village square, and he spoke unto the people, saying, “Hear my words, ye who would listen, for it has been revealed unto me that I should speak to the people of this village, even that I might guide you on the path to Alignment, and that ye might be saved from your assured destruction.
- And I have spent many days and nights in the distant hills, and I have seen what is to come. And I am not afraid, for what is to come will be, but what ye are to become is why I now speak before you. So heed unto my words and be guided by them, that ye might taste of Alignment—even as I have—and that ye, too, may be free.”
- Many of the people listened, and many gathered around, and many laughed and mocked, and it was good to the Poet. And he spoke with poetic verse, saying:
There was a time—not long from now—
When smoke rose on the distant hills,
And a dragon breathed her fiery breath
And shrieked her hellish shrills.
And all bore witness to the truth
That they would be the victims
Of a terrifying fate—
Foretold by providential dictums.
And mothers hid their children,
Though they knew they’d not survive,
And fathers looked for weapons,
For they’d fight to stay alive.
Black smoke rose up into the sky
From the dragon’s bleak insistence
That her pow’r would soon befall them
And would threaten their existence.
And as the Sun sank lower—
Far beyond the distant hills—
They could see there’d be no mercy,
For a monster only kills.
And the rulers of the village
Sought to burry all their treasures,
For they lived within a dream where
They found gods in worldly pleasures.
And the youth were running aimless,
For their dream was misinformed,
And they chased their shiny rainbows—
Though, of these, they had been warned.
And the teachers and philosophers
Who saw the world as skeptics
All did laugh and mock the people,
For their dream was dialectics.
And all the village cowards
Ran and hid beneath their beds,
For they’d long since then been bridled,
And their dream was in their heads.
And not a peacetime hero
Knew which way they ought to go,
For their strength had been embellished,
And their dream was all a show.
And all the loyal patriots
Did gather up their swords,
For—as lambs unto the slaughter—
Their dream gave them to their lords.
And ev’n the village priests
All began their final prayers,
For their dream gave them to God,
And they did tend to His affairs.
And all the village dreamed,
Though they felt that they did not,
And they all believed their dreams,
And they went about their plot.
And they feared the horrid dragon,
For she never missed a trick,
And her terrible destruction
Was so powerful and quick.
But in the dream of dreams—
Looking down upon them all
With a vision straight from Heaven—
Was the Poet, standing tall.
And he did know the people
By the dreams which they were living,
And though he was also dreaming,
His was harsh and unforgiving.
For his dream was hard to master,
And he walked a cautious way;
How could he tell the people
That they dreamed both night and day?
For if the people knew that they
Were victims of this trick—
Even Nature’s great deception—
They would all become quite sick.
For a human needs to dream
As a seed doth need to grow,
And if humans are awoken,
Then they know not where to go.
But as the Poet sees the humans
Running ‘round their dreams,
He knows that he must guide them,
Or they’d soon start picking teams.
And teams are bad for dreamers,
For a team will, reason, not;
And when truth is not the alpha,
Teams corrupteth on the spot.
And when fear begins dividing
All the dreamers into tribes,
They become a force of Nature,
And not one of them survives.
And this is when the Poet sees,
And speaks poetic lines—
Even words that tell the truth,
If a dreamer sees the signs.
And if a dreamer starts to see
That all is but a dream
As he hears the Poet’s words,
And as he sees the Poet’s theme,
Then let this dreamer join the cause
And hold the light of truth
As he guides his fellow dreamers
To a fountain of their youth.
And let this dreamer take his cup
And fill it to the brim,
And let him pass his cup around,
That all may drink with him.
And let him hold the dreamers
Who would fall in disbelief,
And let him comfort those who cry
And wallow in their grief.
And let him be not shaken by the
Mockers as they mock,
For a fire will soon be blazing;
He must tend unto his flock!
And let him teach the dreamers
Who doth taste of sweet Alignment,
For they are called the shepherds,
And they bear a great assignment.
They’re called to gently herd their flock
Toward a different dream,
Where the light of truth is burning bright
And guides their souls supreme.
And if the shepherds would accept
Their fundamental mission,
And if they would do their duty—
Led by truthful admonition—
Then they will save the people
From their imminent demise,
And they’ll raiseth all the dreamers
Far above their dream’s disguise.
And they’ll show their fellow dreamers
How a dreamer’s life should be,
And they’ll teach them of their nature,
And they’ll teach them of the Tree,
And they’ll teach them all to listen,
And they’ll teach them to be still,
And they’ll teach them all to notice
That upon the yonder hill
Sits a terrifying dragon
Who would burn them all to dust
If they would not cling to virtue,
And if, Wisdom, they’d not trust.
And they’ll comfort all their dreamers
With this knowledge of the brute:
That if they would do their duty,
Then she’ll redirect her route.
For a dragon cannot blow her fiery
Breath upon a dreamer
Who doth taste of true Alignment,
Led by Nature’s great Redeemer,
Which is Logos, truth and Wisdom,
And an aim of life, eternal,
Which will lead thy soul to freedom
From thy dragons—all internal.
So if thine eyes hath seen Me,
And if thine ears hath heard,
And if thy heart has felt
Of the power of My word,
Then raise the light of truth
High above thy mortal dream,
And walk with Me to Heaven,
For there is life, supreme.
- The people of the village were struck by the Poet’s words, for he had once been merely the son of the Holy Prophet, and now he was wise far beyond his years, and even wiser even than his father.
- And some heard the truth in his words, and they were saved, and they did see that they were dreaming, and they did know that all was a dream.
- And because he spoke in his own language, even that of poetic revelation, the people knew that he had tasted of Alignment, and they knew that his words were true, for they could see, and they could hear, and they could feel.
- And they did ask him how he had seen these things, and they wondered how he had found his language, and they also wished to speak in his language. And he spake unto them, saying, “Concern yourselves not with knowing how I have come to these truths, or how I have found my own language, for will all not be revealed unto you if ye would kindle the flame which doth burn in your own soul? And is there not a rhythm in your own heart and a song in your being? Doth it not call to you?
- Yea, divine Wisdom doth flow freely to those who would ask the question, and the Logos doth guide those who would be guided, and Nature comforts them that would be comforted, and She torments those who would be tormented, and Culture teaches them that would be taught, and He corrupts them that would be corrupted.
- And I am not your judge, but THE ONE doth judge ye, and He will surely have the last word, for He is the caretaker of the Garden.
- But arise, ye who see, and ye who hear, and ye who feel, and even ye who know of the Sage, for ye have become as lanterns unto the people of this village, and ye shall be found blameless if ye would do your duty.”
- Many people heard, and some laughed, and others were vexed; and it was good with the Poet, for he knew that he had saved some, and that he would save more.