Little Boy

Hath fed the common purpose That draws the very heart of man, to the sacrificial hero! Dangerous and promising are these dreams which seem to come from the heart’s deep recesses, as have cast a spell of melancholy that leaves one dim. Only by speaking about them in former times, has the world appreciated these voices from the skies. There are no age limits, neither to the quest for spiritual growth, nor to its testing. Beneath each of these mysteries, some preface and others express the grandeur of a true meaning; some have shed new lights, some, disturbing. The grandest have revealed new truths, no matter how strong the prose, the content has to be true. To reach a mystical insight the words which the thoughts themselves preface, express;to understand the concrete problems the language must have been created by the body of man’s brain to reach it, the mind must have been perfected. No matter what subject has been investigated it has in common three fundamental elements. They are reason, the senses, and a grandeur: and when they interact with each other in perfect harmony the knowledge of truth is attained; the deepest, most true meaning is comprehended. We learn what is true when our instincts are the tools to do what we know to be so; we lose ourselves when we do not know what we are; and we should know our own nature when we have used our minds to understand ourselves. Reaching the depths of the unknown, understanding the whole nature of things, you attain an ascent to light: like the body in a dream defeated by the weight of the body, the body in an inner form makes its way up from depths of darkness: and when one experiences this one is reborn; and when one sees this one is changed: ‘Twas in this way the poet was reborn upon this earth; and all he could atone for his human failures. This is a melody about a man on a mountain who hears the voice of the moon and, unknown to himself, alighted with the noble heart. But the mystic of the moon was an empty moon: 'Twas of the body of man the moon had no heart; only that of his body could he love. In his despair he sought to sacrifice his flesh. But the voice of the heart and the words from it frightened him. Then he walked on the world through the nights of the year and dwelt in deep oblivion. But what could be said to him, in his darkness, when, suddenly, a light shone through the darkness? That was his awakening, it was a vision of an inner light which drew him towards the universe. He went back to his own child, and he passed along the familiar path but what was the purpose? He sought a hidden light to brighten his way: but when he reached the end of the firmament, there was no light. How could it come from below when there was no light above? This is a story of a mother in her humble home with a little child in her arms, who is nursing, and unaware of the wonderful events to come, in spite of her heart’s eagerness and in spite of her pride. His little fingers possess the world with an innocence which the immovable forces Avenge and they are known by a loving heart. In the courtyard she prays: but who she prays for? The next she sees he is walking down the stairs : with him goes his hand and he stretches out his little arms when the little boy reaches out his hands and they know each other. But there is no single sound of their happy greeting nor is there a single person they meet: the space is also their meeting place. Life. :: 03.28.2021 ::