Prologue

The night comes upon him, standing without movement in the ocean of wheat. The planet under him stiffens in the cold, and he becomes very quiet, welcoming the cold, the wind, the light of the stars.

The heavenly constellations ride past very slowly, but he is unaware of time, for he has cleansed his mind of concept and knows only his pure, original mind, bathing itself in the Creator’s light. Into this mind comes the voice of his teacher:

“Picture with me now, if you will, a sphere that is called a planet. What is the color of this planet?

“The eye of the fish gazes upon this planet, and it sees life, and it is glad of life. For out of the planet grow living things. For what constitutes life? They are perfect, and they radiate energy.

“And the eye of the fish looks on.

“Out of the planet come living things, and they move about on its surface, and they swim in its waters, and they fly in its atmosphere, and they do various and many things. And each seeks food. “And the eye of the fish looks on.

“And all of the life interacts with life, and evolves to great consciousness and intellect and knowing. Then rises from the surface that being known in the universe as man, with his awareness of being.

“And the eye of the fish looks on.

“Man goes forth upon his planet, and acts, and thinks, and thinks of his actions, and acts with his fellow creatures. And they learn from each other as they interact with each other.

“And the eye of the fish looks on.

“And man dresses himself in fine garments, and bows down his head to that which he holds holy, and shows great emotion and sense of being.

“And the eye of the fish looks on.

“And man dwells in great wisdom, and his power is great. He knows that he thinks the thoughts of wisdom itself, for he is wise. He knows that he gives forth love, for he is love, and he acts with dignity and grace, for he is divine and full of grace.

“And the eye of the fish looks on.

“Throughout the heavens, the multitudes bow down. And they bow down to the fish. For all that he does is look. And if all that he does is look, then he is wise. The multitudes bow down to wisdom, for they know that it is love.

“And the eye of the fish looks on.

“His wisdom permeates the heavens, and is the heavens, for the heavens are love. “

He who seeks stands alone in the field of wheat. As the meditation ends he begins to become aware of the fatigue in his body. The light that has sustained his mind leaves him, and he becomes aware of the cold. He is glad of the cold, and glad of his body. He becomes aware of the convenience of his body, of the changing attitudes of his feet, balancing against the changing wind. Of the arms so ready to use, the hands so ready to serve. Of the neck, supporting the head, cushioning the brain. Of the skin, so sensitive to its environment, telling the mind of the soft, scraping brush of the wheat against him, of the brilliant cold that is affecting him. Of his eyes that can see at his will all that dwells in his world, the moonlit color of the wheat, the velvet black of the winter sky.

And he who seeks, standing alone, accepts himself as part of the creation, and sees that he and his body and his will are part of the all, and are the all.

Stiffly beginning to move, he embarks upon the journey to which he has been summoned, from one planet to another planet, from the service of the Creator to the service of the same Creator.

He prepares his mind and loosens his body to an inner heat, and disappears from the field, summoned to the place of departure. A great hall of white marble stands before him. Birdsong filters through the vaults of the high-domed ceiling, and the sound of the wind chants in the windows. The great hall is totally empty, save for the supporting pillars standing upon its floor.

Through the pillars, walking upon the white floor yellowed by the yellow light sunning its windows, walks a delft white girl with golden hair. She walks towards him, the golden-haired boy with skin of palest stone. They are twins in coloring, in height, in delicacy of feature, in purity of thought, in strength of will.

There are no words needed; only the simple mouths of touching speak. They clasp hands and wait, for they know they are to serve together, and they know of their suitability to serve.

The mind of this temple speaks in thunder, and they see in each others’ eyes the subtly changing colors of the thought:

“In the creation of the Father there dwells a planet of sorrow. This planet approaches its harvest, and yet in its heart there dwells no joy, for its harvest shall be poor. And as it approaches its harvest, it cries out in its heart for all of those that will fall and be swept away. Few there are on this planet who may stem the tide of sadness, and build a high place for those who would have fallen before the harvest reaper came. These need your aid, to serve in their love as you serve in yours. “

The youth and the girl stand for some time, hands and eyes touching, until their will is perfectly as one. Then they speak: “We will go, and we will serve.”

They walk in silence from the temple of their fathers and from the time of their joyful, slender innocence. What had been separate is now joined; what had been unthought is now begun. And even as they have been beloved in the garden of their childhood, now they open like flowers, to give forth the scent of their thoughts, and the crystal colors of their ripened souls. For this planet of their childhood is not Earth, with its legacy of sadness, but another, brighter star’s planet, with another and brighter legacy, where their souls have been let loose to grow naturally and in joy. And their readiness to serve is as inevitable as the turning of the leaf to the golden, silent sun.

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