A Gentle Man

A Gentle Man

The young gentle man over there is a magician of sorts, said the Counselor

to the monk. I probably shouldn’t be telling you this but is it not so that gossip

meanders in the conversation of holy men. Well spoke the monk, I think they

mainly gossip about God. Well then we are well within our rights, said the

Counselor, to speak a gospel truth about that young gentle man.

They were standing in the precipice of a garden complete with a living pond. If

I could paint a picture as picturesque as I have seen this garden you would see

the green grass tainted by falls ardor. The nectar of every plant not harvested,

showing off and ripe to the very points of their stems. The leaves a red orange

because the sun was becoming farther away from the earth or is it that the earth

was moving farthest from the sun. The blazing prince of our known galaxy.

The water in that pond had weird fishes who sought comfort in eating everything

other than their school. Even the birds did not bother them. They only sang to

join the chorus for the natural sound of our earth but their beaks did not venture

into that pond.

The trees, yes I must tell you of the trees, the oak family including the poison.

The apricot firmly rooted standing pretty in the center of all that was living there in

the garden. Then there’s the magician, illusionist, but truly an angel sitting in it’s

shade.

When he was a boy, started the Counselor, he went on a vision quest of sorts.

He set out from his mother’s home as the sun from our side of the sky and went

looking for his ancestors origins, to kneel and pray where they had kneeled and

prayed. Hoping to gain the residual power from their prayers, he searched.

He found himself in a nation state not that far from the isles of Cana. This is

where he did his works. Self observation, candels, and of course lots of praying.

What did he pray for Counselor, inquired the monk. A young man as giving

as he only asked for peace of mind. His form was falling from the grip of his

delicate psyche and it shook him so deep. The world was just a world to him

then not even sight of the waning moon or the bleeding setting sun could stir

him anymore. Even after the kneeling and praying and the reciprocity from both

he still had to go a bit farther. His people were indeed wanderers they prayed in

intricate places all over the planet it seemed. By the time he reached the third

place his form dragged behind him in the streets, not one person tripped. Only

babies, cats, dogs, and shamans stared at this activity. Even the raven and some

crows came to sit on this subtle chasis, because what he was losing was so

thick.

It came to be that a priestess came to his aid. She took the form away from him

and turned it into gold. He let her keep the fortune. She was kind enough to give

him half. My friend he will never have to worry about money again.

The priestess also lead him to speak with his ancestors who were honored by

his sacrifice and austerity. “I want to go to the places where my people are from”.

His grandmothers told him that he had gotten his wish by his own esteem. “But

I’m not there yet”, he told them. “That’s because you aren’t very clear on exactly

who you’re looking for”, they said.”If you want a place where people are from you

have it”, they said. He knew there was more. “I want to go to the place my family

is from”, he pleaded again. They snapped their fingers in unison and he awoke

on another planet.

I’m not sure dear monk which one.

He pleaded again,” I want to go to the place where you are from” he spoke into

the very universe and he woke up in pitch black.

Was he so ready for the true darkness all to be an impeccable warrior. An

immortal gentle man. You see here is a man who is a magician because he has

faced infinity and now his eyes shine like forever. There is no thought this god

could not fathom because he is balanced as the cosmos.

So you see dear monk you are right holy men do gossip about god.

The garden grew dark and the Counselor stepped away to return to his day. The

monk could only stand there in the precipice, still, looking at the man under the

apricot tree. The man’s eyes were closed, his body hadn’t moved in hours. The

monk’s curiosity lead him to walk towards the grand master magician.

He kneeled close in order to say words like; hello there sir, I hear you are a

magician, whats that like sir, can you tell me more, how can I myself be more

impeccable, how can I too be selfless and such.

But when the monk did kneel and look at the face of the man under the

apricot tree the magician began to stir and his eyes opened as like blinds. the

monk looked into the full on blackness of those eyes and saw all the answers

completely. You see, the monks eyes reflected the garden but the magicians

eyes reflected… infinity. The monk had never before seen such a precise

blackness. He lost his mind. He lost his form. That’s what happens when you

face the mother face to space.