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Beautiful And Savage
The Face In The Sand
He flew from the window and landed face down in the soft sand. There he stayed face down, not moving a single muscle. I had given him fair warning and did not expect this escapade of the flying man doing a quite well belly flop, thank goodness I thought, the sand is soft for his landing.
I was making my way across the bridge. Only a few
were on a vast and lengthy arched bridge. The bridge into no-time. Few
there are who make it across the bridge, fewer still that dare begin the
journey. Once on the bridge there is no linear time as we know it on
earth. On the bridge and beyond is All-time. A few were walking towards
it with me, from a distance I saw them and was glad I was not alone. I
felt a thrill of anticipation of meeting my destiny.
Such a long bridge would take much linear time to traverse. I felt something holy in the air. Something so sweet and sacred my feet gracefully moved to the front and almost I was there. It was all so effortless, so right, and how I came to be there was by touching the fingertips of those who reached for a kind word. It was not me who touched them. God touches us through our friends and passers-by. It is the the way we can get to know what God is. When we were born we forgot where we came from so we could have a pretend journey that we were lost, but now we are found, when it is our time to cross the NO-TIME bridge.
The man with his face in the sand I cared about. I saw some men at the window who would not jump after him, but they had been chasing him. They could not come after him for there was an invisible barrier they were not allowed to come through, it mattered not. Now I had to delay my departure across the bridge as the man would not rise his face up and I feared he couldn’t breath. I feared his suffocation within his great and tumultuous emotions he possessed.
I went to his side and dug my hands into the sand under his chin and tugged at his head, so he could breath. He must not lie there so still. He resisted my tugging it seemed on purpose. His lesson plan was not that difficult to comprehend: it was simply that what one is viewing may be indeed their sacred home and if that home's owner requires you remove your shoes to enter therein, you must respect the hostess's wishes. Why would this be a shock to him? I was, nonetheless entertained by him, but weary of being the teacher of sacred matters.
Suddenly he lifted his head as fast as a shotgun crack. I never saw such savage beauty. Like a beast you would admire, but with the most beautiful features that you at once became spellbound looking at it. His face! Young, dark playing with light, brazen and furious. Poised for attack or defense, I knew not, for I was beyond fear. I had entered love. the nearest opposite to fear *(ACIM). I was a teacher and my tenure at school was ended. It was like summer vacation to me, and there on the horizon loomed the bridge.
Even so angry he appeared beautiful to me. I had tried to tell him I
was leaving, and he should go with me, across the bridge, and I pointed
to it. He had declined to leave with me. He had reasons for staying, he
said as he busied himself in some earthly concern and turned away from
me; can I use your window to escape this place I asked? I expected he
would help me to get up on the ledge, since I wore a long dress, it
would have been kindly to gain his assistance. He had agreed, using his
window was quite appropriate but he would not come with me. Feeling a
hint of anxiety at not gaining his assistance to mount the window ledge
and that he should reject my request that he follow me, I hoisted my leg
over the ledge and swung my body up and out using the anxiety as
leverage that a woman can do anything a man does, if she sets her mind
to it, and forget the attire impediment.
Woman and man are not so different after all. If I had
not his love, I had not his kindness nor assistance, and what did it
matter? The bridge called to me and I could not delay. When I’d asked
him about using his window, it was because I saw another window in
another room I could jump from just as easy. I knew if I used his
window, there would be some people here in this building who would blame
him for my swift and sure departure, and so they would be after him and
that would not be fair to him. I tried to explain to him what would
happen if I used his window. Nonetheless he replied to use his window,
that it was all right whatever happened. But now I know he didn’t
understand what I was saying, and that he never would understand. I
understand he does not know about the bridge to no time because his face
is buried in the sand, grounded into the earth I am leaving. I felt on
my own again, for my way had been set long ago to cross the bridge, not
later, but now.
Oh no! I put my hand over my mouth and laughed a little at his intensity. He was in control of his fury I could see and my admiration of him kept him at bay, I was beyond fear because I was so in love, but not with him, I was just in Agape love. I was protected and I knew he would not be able to harm me for any supposed wrong-doing he might imagine I had done. I could see a bit into the future sometimes but my words would often fall upon deaf ears, or perhaps ears that heard only the sound of their own thoughts and desires. In silence he looked at me, first down, then up with slow lids over those blazing eyes. He grimaced with his emotions on his mouth and spoke not. I hated to see pain mar his beauty. I had crossed him so he felt. He had already forgotten that I’d asked him to cross the bridge with me and been turned down. He was too stubborn to follow any who asked for his company. He had no inkling of the bridge crossing I had foregone for his sake. As well, he did not see mankind as one entity in various disguises.
I had never seen such a warrior with such blazing fury to conquer. Yet as I got to know him better, I saw he fought for both sides of the Light and the Dark, never aligning with one or the other but applauding both the evil and the good. He would not differentiate between the dark and the light and therein his way was to be marked with conflict as he sought his true self. The dark forces are an absence of the Light. We must align with the Light once and for all. I held the key and had extended it, but now since he took not the key, I gave the key back to God for safekeeping and I knew all too soon I would be on the bridge’s threshold once more, and there, I would be totally free to be placed in service once more in God’s army of Light forces. Already my credentials were mounting for my service placement, my new tenure, to my fellowman of whom, this savage beauty was but one soul struggling on earth. Many who were mine called to me and I could not refuse to answer, for we were all one, and since time begun, they who knew me always followed me and I them, for we understood each other immediately; those who knew not the Light would stay and delay their advancement into God's kingdom.
I said nothing. There was nothing to say. There was only his ragged and rugged and unwholesome beauty to look upon. Then I would rise and go across the bridge, for it was time for me to go.
I would be the one he blamed, the one he loved also, and I would have to leave, and let that be so and all the while know my truth was not his truth. Perhaps his crossing would come later. I knew it was so. From two different worlds we came and our paths crossed. I might be to him, the one that slipped out of his grasp, and he would be the one whom was drawn out the window after me and so saved from slavery to the status quo on the inside.
If it had been fated so, he and I would be on the bridge this very moment reveling in the new freedoms and horizons to come, when I’d asked him to come, he would have followed me out the window, not been chased out by a band of pharisees and and do-gooders who meant well but sometimes just made things worse. While I am not better than the pharisees and make mistakes, with God on my side, I never make the same mistake twice.
The warrior prince would stand beckoning in the clouds and I would slowly disappear from sight, a ghost like figure knowing it was right to heed the voice of my Father in heaven who called me home..but first the magnificent bridge journey which brought me ever closer to my creator, I felt sad to leave him here, but knowing that a little rain must fall into each life to make love grow. There was higher purpose. As my Father in heaven said, I will place you here, and you will not know why you have been placed there, but it is I, who knows and I see all, and even the sparrow to fall; when it falls, I shall place the sparrow back in the tree. Call and I will answer if doubt ever enters your mind again. And so the peace of God has come. Once on the bridge, then we knew, we had no real reason for sadness..not really. We made up reasons for it and lived those reasons as if they were so important and so true. I faded away and then I was with God and it was too late to be my human self.
My human is saved in the archives nonetheless. My name is written in the library among thousands who have crossed the bridge, never to return, for other worlds and systems beckon brightly. A harvest of joy to attend to. A homecoming like we’ve never imagined. And I too, am the prodigal son, beloved of God.
My work is done here, and a new work commences. I still have a body but each cell is exploding with Light and the lovely announcement God is pleased with my work.