Enlightenment
On top of the green, infinite mountains
stands a man no older than eternity,
talking to nature as the soft whispers
of the wind echo in his ears.
Telling him of a time before man,
when nature ruled in harmony around the globe.
“Whose law were you under, oh wise one?”
asked the man through the voice of whispers.
No response resounded in his ear this time;
and so, he asked again, only louder.
The wind stood still, just as the innocent clouds above.
Annoyed by the mountains he shouted:
“Tell me, whose law were you under,
oh, living breath of the wild!”
The wind did not respond, but the innocent clouds
started weeping gently onto the mountain,
drenching the blades of grass, which now
bowed down as if to please the gentle sky.
Unsatisfied and now soaking wet, the man
decided to build a fire in order to stay warm
and protect himself from the storm about to come.
He furiously cut down a tree and built
a small fire underneath an overhanging cliff.
The rain furiously roared even louder now,
and the blades of grass danced to the tune of the drops,
as they fell from the heavens and dove deep into the soil.
Not pleased with the lack of obedience
the wind had shown, he sat around the fire
getting sleepier and sleepier until the sun burned out,
and the man fell gently into the deep illusions
which dreams bring about a mortal soul.
…
He awoke to the sound of birds singing as
the morning sun rose up from behind the bleach horizon,
and chased the night away with its holy fire.
Feeling apologetic for his behavior, the man
decided to ask the wind, once again, but this time
a little hesitant:
“Oh, gentle breath of life, I only wish
to know who your ruler was before man came to be…”
The wind rushed in from the waves of the sea,
hurled down from the blowing clouds,
whistled through the blades of grass and spoke thus:
“Nature cannot be ruled oh gentle soul,
we offer you the fires in which you burn,
we offer you the water in which you drown,
we offer you the dirt in which you bathe.
“But don’t be fooled my gentle soul,
for this is not our intention,
we offer you the fires for warmth,
we offer you the water for your eternal thirst,
we offer you the dirt as soil for your hungry stomachs.
“My gentle and corrupt man, who rules you?
Is it not your stomach which demands to be fed?
is it not the heart which demands to be loved?
is it not your thoughts who demand to be explored?
is it not the rain which made you build that fire?
is it not your birth which made you breathe?”
Feeling defeated and condemned
to an eternal struggle for survival,
with his only purpose to keep his body alive
as if it were weighting him down, he gave up and
decided to lay down on the cold grass facing the clear sky.
“Oh, now don’t be a fool”, whispered the wind.
“Who are you? Are you not your stomach?
Are you not your heart? Are you not your thoughts?”
“I no longer know”, he sighed.
“Good”, said the wind as it picked him up off the ground
and lifted him into the clouds.
“You have no control over the beat of your heart,
just like you do not have control of the rain.”
“You, my dear soul, are not even aware of your breathing
for most of your time alive.
You don’t even know how you grow your hair,
let alone move the sun”
“Why are you worried of who is in control,
when you great deceiver know that deep down,
it is the same you which grows your hair,
beats your heart, moves the sun, blows the wind
and grows the grass underneath your very feet.”
“You, godly one, grow your hair so effortlessly,
just as you move the stars. Is that so hard to believe?”
“You are the eyes with which the universe admires itself,
you are to the world just as a leaf is to a tree,
and a wave to the ocean.
You were not brought into this world
from an outside place, you see, you grew out of it.
You are a symptom of the creation of stars!
You belong into this world, for it is your eyes
which give meaning to the sun.
It is your perception which makes anything exist,
and if you were not here, my sweet deceiver,
then we would seize to exist”.
….
Overwhelmed with such knowledge,
and with great deal of responsibility to keep things in order,
he decided to journey down to the people
living their lives below and tell them of his findings.
And so, he walked back up to the mountains,
closed his eyes and breathed out for the last time.
Just as his final breath left his body,
a flower nearby inhaled deep.
Just as his body began merging with the earth beneath him,
he became part of nature once again, only to leave
his thoughts behind and act purely of holy will.
The rain began falling once again but this time, falling ever so gently,
singing songs of ocean dreams and endless gratitude.
-Albert Stanica
nois3less 