For years he had walked in the shadows of the light of the world, all the scaffolding holding his life rested on the external securities that gave an anchor to his existence.
While he enjoyed this sense of security, he was presented with the opportunity to travel to a beautiful place full of spectacular landscapes that made happy his soul.
Feeling he might take advantage of this opportunity, he decided to sit still to let these beautiful images sunk into his person and gave him peace and elation.
While he was in this process, he let the hard materialistic beliefs to get down, and his spirit, who was waiting this moment since he was born, took the rudder and guided him into himself.
At the beginning the road seemed rugged and steep, but after a time, as if he would have reached the world roof, started to see that the landscapes that was seeing now left poorly depicted, despite their beauty, the real places he was admiring minutes ago.
Walking on the inner personal paths that just had discovered, uncovered the beauty of his soul, and understood that this was his own self, his environment, his life, the galaxy, the infinite... in a word, everything: The Absolute!
(This is a work of fiction, no offence intended to anyone's beliefs.
Beside the absolute humanization of celestial spirits turns the tale into a fable).
Everybody was satisfied after a difficult task, everybody except Michael. He was following the legal procedures and could not find a fault, but... something was not right!
He was walking the paths of the Garden thinking deeply when he heard the Voice asking him:
You are thinking furiously, my friend, why is it?
Oh, exclaimed Michael, I haven't felt you Lord!
It is because you are thinking so intensely!
The soft feelings of the Lord encompassed Michael wholly.
Yes, Michael was now giving all his attention to the Lord, by now you must know what was I thinking about.
No, my child, I respect your privacy, so if you want to talk about that, tell me.
The careful ways of the Lord always surprised Michael.
Well, Sire, Michael fighted in search of a simple way to put things, you see, it is eons I am part of the Panel you are Chairman; when a soul presented the case of life to be granted access to the Garden most cases are simple and easy: Yes or No.
But sometimes there are some doubts and then the Defence Counsellor claims the First Amendment, that is, he asks for Divine Mercy, and win his plea since there is no contention to that!
The Lord was felt as smiling, and He said: Yes, the idea is to be on the easy side.
Yes, Sire, Michael was intense in his words, I understand that, but sometimes it is, well, it seems as if it is unjust, I beg Your pardon for my words, to give the same reward to those who earned it and to those who are getting it by a technical reason.
The feeling of a smile accentuated in the Lord, and He said:
Well, maybe you are right, so I will tell you what we will do next time we faced a situation as you described: We will take two steps, first we will accept the First Amendment as is the custom, then you will pronounce a judgement to balance the situation. Anything you deem right to apply to the soul.
But... Michael was overwhelmed, but it is a serious responsibility, Sire! I do not know if I can cope with it!
Oh, you'll do well! the accented smile lingered in His lips, and then He was gone!
Michael rested on a bench in the Garden, the creased forehead giving evidence of the hard moments of thoughts he was developing.
Time went by uneventful for many eons. It is difficult to measure time in Eternity since time does not exist in there.
Then one pseudo-day a soul was facing the Panel, the Defense Counsellor presented, with a smile, all the good deeds carried out by the soul. The Devil's Advocate was looking despairingly into his suitcase not finding any document to present to the tribunal.
After scratching the bottom of the case he found a small paper that he put on the table with a look of no hope.
The Panel read the small paper, made a consult between them, and the Speaker said:
There is a small problem here, this soul has been very good as human, only there was not warm in the contact with other people, being a hermit always was aloof and not giving comfort to others. We acknowledge the good part of the soul, but in true justice, if we consider the situation we should not accept this soul in the Garden!
The Devil's Advocate was pleasantly surprised and started to have hope of winning this case, when the Defence Counsellor said aloud:
I recognize there are some truth in the way the Speaker present the case, but I want now and here to ask the application of the First Amendment!
From above the Panel, it was felt the great warm coming from the Ultimate Judge, and the feeling of happiness brought the sense of "Granted".
The Speaker said:
Clad the soul for entering the Garden, and adjourned the session.
Michael accepted the final decision but he felt as if there was not balance in the outcome, so he started walking on the inner paths of the Garden thinking how to find a way to serve justice.
After a while he had an idea and in that same moment felt the Presence Who asked him:
Have you found a solution, Michael?
Yes, Sire! I think it would be a nice way to keep things made up for! Michael was truly happy
Will you tell Me your answer to this situation? It was a strange question coming from the Lord, but Michael decided to ignore the reasons.
Yes, Sire, here it is:
The soul will be granted all the benefits of the Garden, but for half the Eternity and a pseudo-month, during three pseudo-days of the each pseudo-week this soul will have no hands and would not caress any flower, leave, or plant of the Garden, neither the chubby cheeks of the Cherubims!
Michael thought he heard a burst of laughter from above, but could not be sure.
The comfort he felt told him that his way to serve justice was accepted.
The music is the song "Archangel Michael" by Llewellyn
The cloak of heat covered the shores along the river.
It was noon, and a flock of children came running and crying, breaking the ease of the heavy afternoon, jumping into the warm waters or hanging from a rope tied to a tree bough that protruded into the river before letting them to fall in the middle of the brown waters, while some old guys with their rods and fishhooks approached the south bend down the river knowing that the noisy kids will frighten the fish toward them.
Roland was coming through the corn field using a small lane open between the tall plants making the leaves, ears of corns, and the crest tremble when he moved between them.
He was in the middle of the field when thought he saw a movement to the left of the tiers of stems. Stopping and making a effort he could see a beautiful girl clad in a soft dress with printed ears of corn in it. He was amazed of the incredible beauty of the girl and tried to approach her but she was lost in the maze of plants before he could take more than two paces in her direction.
For a second he thought to follow the girl full of perfume of new corn, but he did not want to arrive late to Mère Odille's house, it was Wednesday and it was the day she baked her famous pone and prepared the best tea in the region mixing herbs known only to her.
He arrived the hut and greeted Mère as always: Salut, Mère!
She was busy in her kitchen and with a quick glance to the boy answered: Salut, Roland! Comment vas tu, gosse?
Fine!, just fine, Roland reverted to English, trying not to show his lack of knowledge of the old country language, and added quickly: It seems there are new people in town!
Why you say that? asked Mère Odille, curiously. She was the depository of all town gossip and didn't know about new people in town!
Because I saw an unknown very beautiful girl a moment ago in the corn field. Roland could not express how beautiful she was.
How was she dressed?, Mère Odille asked what seems an idle questions.
She has a light dress full of corn ears and the smell of fresh corn all over, continued Roland in an enthusiastic comment.
Mère Odille suspended her chore and looking into the eyes of Roland said: It was not new people in town, Roland! It is the soul of the corn, and appeared as a handsome man to young girls or as a gorgeous girl to young boys to lure them into the field and feed new blood and life to the plants.
You must keep away from the corn field, gosse! You have been selected, that is why you saw the soul of the corn as a beautiful girl. It will try to trap you into the sown field. Promise you won't enter the place ever until after the harvest!
Yes, mère, Roland was a bit confused so he made a half promise, how could such a beautiful girl be a handsome man at times! It seemed more of the superstition hold for the cajun people!
The day passed slowly but finally after eating the last pone and drinking the last tea in the kitchen, Roland prepared to go back home.
Mère Odille reconvene again to Roland: Remember, gosse. Do not enter the corn field, just walk on its borders and do not accept any invitation into the plants, no matter how beautiful the person who is calling you is!
Yes, mère! Roland was full of good tea and pone so he answered lightly, and started his walk home.
The first hundred paces were easy and uneventful, but as soon as Roland started to walk the rim of the field there was a small, almost imperceptible movement near the borderline plants and the beautiful girl appeared at Roland side.
He was speechless, the beauty of the lass was incredible, she took Roland's hand and guided him toward the center of the field, here there was a soft place with warm dirt around, she made Roland to step into the soft spot and caressed gently his hair, his arms, his crest, his corn ears, its leaves, and let it moving slowly following the other plants motions, all the field seemed happy and full of life, time passed and silence covered the area.
The heat was very heavy but night was coming, boys and veterans started to come back from the river with a healthy supper in mind.
While the last dragonflies looked for a place to let the night went by, the hot waves were reluctantly dying in the arms of the last light of the day sunbeams.
The music is a fragment of "The Corn Field" composed by Epic Hybr.
The little town hung from the steeply cliff on the rugged walls of the mountain, all inhabitants were excited because this day was the Annual Spring Fair.
People was enjoying the merriment at hand in a place where life was hard and difficult.
From the low terraces behind the peaks, where small farms developed their trades, the owner of one of them came to pickup his new wife, an unknown woman whom he met by mail and decided to ask her to become his companion in life, proposal that was accepted by the female, as was usual in those places and times.
They expended the day in the Fair, near the end of the day it was decided to get back to the farm before sundown. The man attached his mule and donkey to the old wagon, so they started the trip sitting one beside the other.
After a while of marching, the mule sat and refused to keep going. The farmer got down the wagon and cajoled the animal into following the track. He climbed the wagon again, not without warning: "Mule, this is the first".
Some miles ahead, the mule decided to stop again, making the farmer to come down and repeat his work until the mule decided to obey. The farmer told the animal: "Mule, this is the second."
Not many miles ahead, again the mule sat down and refused to follow the farmer goading. Finally, the man unhook the mule from the wagon, went to the back of the vehicle, came back with a big gun and saying: "Mule this is the third" killed the animal with a close shot.
While he climbed back to the driving seat, the woman could not stop her from telling him how terrible it was what he had done, to kill a perfect valuable animal, when he could have tied the mule to the back making it go and so keep the poor animal, since it do not understand what it was doing, maybe it needed only a bit of training to know what was its job, and besides now letting the poor donkey to make all the job to drag the wagon!
When the woman stopped to caught air, the farmer looked her deeply into the eyes and said: "Woman, this is the first!".
The music is a fragment of "Red River Valley" composed by Walter Colborn.
There was this girl from Orinoco,
Whose boyfriend was a bit 'loco',
She used him as a yoga mat,
'Cause he was a lad quite fat,
And she could jump on him 'poco'.
The music is a fragment of "Crazy cool music "
composed and performed by BoA.
The uncertain dark cloak of night brought a soft trembling of the infinite.
The deep silence of time was put aside by the Eternal Song, having as witness a small point of stellar light brightening the cold landscape while playing with the weightless shadows of the low hills. It was a star with the bright of the interlude that define the borders of reality.
The occasional bleating of some lonely lamb of the mountain flocks punctuated the quiet wait for the moment chosen for the Mystery to touch the bucolic place giving life to a vibration that would move toward the future until lose itself in the last tones of Creation.
It happened!
No, never happened!
This is the marvel of the sense of a mystery of faith or disbelief!
A flimsy load which, as an arcane gift, live or does not exist in each of the human beings who dwell on Earth.
So the scale will always have its weighting plates full of believers on one side and of disbelievers on the other side, giving life to a strange oscillation in probabilities which only will show the truth in different ways: person by person, or jointly when following the design of time and entropy, the personal moment of dissolving into nothing be fulfilled, or Chaos came back to sit on the throne of the Universe, or finally the Wonder of The Eternal Promise be a reality.
Meanwhile, on the slopes of that small country, the question keeps its secret.
Was it the wail of a new born child facing his first breath of life, or was it just another bleating of the sheep on the hills?
The music is a fragment of "Stabat Mater" composed by Giovanni Pergolessi, performed by the London Symphony Orchestra led by Claudio Abbado, and sung by Margaret Marshall, Soprano and Lucia Valentini Terrani, Contralto .
My dream is dark indigo,
Tucked into lengthy cries, Hid along the dazedness,
Of gloomy and doleful thresholds.
Your mist of silk and satin,
Pour white and sweet dawns,
And in the curving of your lips,
The crimson of your smile,
Rescue softly my soul
From the oniric suffering,
Waking in arms of love,
in an earthly demented frenzy
