Thursday, April 23, 2009
Friday, April 17, 2009
Lower yourself upon a series of silent flutes. Become what you are not. For if you do, you can see what others truly are. Remain aware of what YOU truly are, or forget. Once you know the truth, Real Truth, you know more than the moon. And then the flutes can finally sing.
Monday, April 13, 2009
"Rub the oil into your hand," says Pahu.
I rub the oil, granted by the red candle, into my hand. Pahu stops me.
The next day, I find her under the Tree, our meeting place. There is silence, but for the breeze, pushing at the wild grass and the branches of the Tree. I sit a little away from Pahu, my lovely friend.
After a while, the sweet silence is broken by Pahu, as she says, "You've done well. Now it is time for me to train myself, as I've trained you."
We bow and touch cheeks.
She walks down to the sea, stops for just two moments at the shore, and sinks into the sand.
The following day, the dolphins screamed.