(This writing follows directly on from Writing Saga # 5 / Following the Lamb Whithersoever / the Holy Grail )
…And the process? Whatever was that?
The key to the strength which opened impossible places, which withdrew the
sting of the offence of the truth from the stone of stumbling: drawing out the
sword stuck in the offending stone and so tightly, no one could pull it out,
what was that?
Just as day springs from the womb of night, and the tender shoot from
under the earth, so LIFE springs from the tomb of death – its
beginning. So it was first the dark; then the light. First the
seeming-nothing-there; then the ever-living knowing. It was a loss which came
first; and a seeming-dying in it before you were lifted up, and free. From then
on, out from your innermost depths, the rising up of unquenchable light in
unspeakable joy, in LIFE forever and ever.
It took patience. But those who dare win. For them the ease of the
drawing of a sword from a stone. But they are as nothing: dressed in ‘rags,’
incomprehensible, unrecognizable, little thought of – least in the eyes of
those all around about them – and certainly no ‘king’ in their own eyes; yet,
strangely, fulfilling the dream of one who was and will be.
We are not foolish to believe the unbelievable: giving up the life we
cannot keep to gain the life we cannot lose: alive in ancient Avalon, timeless
in Everland, true in our inner world of Annwn; for caught up in the turning
then you were you in the heavenlies.
Everland’s longed-for beauty it was still the prize of all them that for
love of the truth were incredibly happy in their nothingness; they want for
nothing and so they walk through every wall. . . .
‘The old order changeth, yielding
place to new,
And God fulfills himself in many ways,
Lest one good custom should corrupt
the world.’
- Alfred
Lord Tennyson; Morte d’Arthur
The
titles of the next four ragged
writings of Amethyst Poetry:
I Turned the Page
The Tides of Everland
The Treasury of a Day
The Gift of Four
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