Clarity
The next day was come. He walked among the trees; the events of the diamond were in his mind and yet he wondered little of the how, what and why, for it was ever more the deepening of his stillness that made him commune with the mysteries of (his) life, like in silence one may behold a white lotus opening in the dawn of morn, and perceive with a wordless clarity the heart of things.
And so he wandered, past silvern streams that shimmered in the light; beyond the ruins of a forsaken town whose broken stones lay crumbled in the tallness of the grass, and to a fool he may seem as one lost and astray, but the Timeless was in his heart unfolding and found he the formless Origin of all things in every breath and every step, and so he nourished the power and clarity of his soul.
But when he had wandered long in the expanse of Angkasa, the wood relented and opened upon a wide valley; lustres and green it was, and autumn flowers bloomed, and the earth rose and fell, but halted at the feet of the looming mountains, upon their ridges beeches and birches in echelon tiered, fading through the skirts of clouds. And the wind was moist as he crossed the valley, and at length silvern droplets fell from the sky. But beyond a grove of firs he found refuge in an alcove in the mountain wall. As he sat closed he his eyes and listened to the rhythms of the rain; afar thunder upon summits resounded. When he held the diamond, a current moved through him. He again saw images of the lady; he knew she was running from a darkness. A great tragedy lay behind her; and no hope she had for herself, or for the world it seemed, unless the diamond would be hidden… hidden where it could wait to again be found in days long beyond her day.
The rain had passed, beams of light through the firs weeping branches sifted and into the hollow reached; a merl sang blithe its song. Ri’nuin continued his meditative wandering; a rainbow in the valley shone, and a shaft of golden light fell upon a distant curve of the mountain’s foot, and he decided that unto there he should walk.
Golden droplets upon the grasses shimmered and the sky had cleared, but at last the day was growing old. He gathered dandelion leaves and ate his steamed buns, and the water that he drank from leaves and blades of grass upon his tongue tingled, for the vital blessings of the Mother and rain celeste.
The sun was setting and shadow in the valley grew, but beyond the curve of the mountain’s foot fell a light dark and red, and the valley there shone of nascent dusk, and the shoulders of mountains glowed maroon.
In red light was he bathed as he came beyond the bend, a large red sun filled before him blazing sky.
He beheld the ground before him sloping steeply down, and fell into the wood far below, whose autumn leaves fluttering in the light of waning day appeared a flaming sea.
In the scree a hidden water trickled, and gentle winds upon the mountains crooned.
And at length the light of stars was kindled, and the waning moon her pale light shone into the black stretches of the latened sky.
He unrolled his sleeping bag but made no fire.
The night was cold but his breath slow and retained; summoning sufficient enough internal power to heat his body.
The moon sank behind the mountains of the west, but her cold light from below summits yet into dark heavens reached.
Birds then sang a quiet song when the sun ascended with the first streaks of golden light, and summoned day anew.
He ate, and drank he from his flask, and walked down the slope of the hill.
He bathe in a river stream; naked sat he in the drying sun, holding the diamond in the palm of his hand, sheening like dew immortal.
The day was quiet; silvern streams flowing into nameless dales, and the snowy peaks of silent mountains thrusted into flawless skies. Heavens unveiled, unshrouded welkin; he beheld a white eagle cast in golden light.
He had wandered long, several days in truth, through the woods of Ceitidh and had gone beyond the stony lap of Angkasa, seeking to awaken understanding in his mind of what had come to pass. But he merely felt his Vow, and a poem of the Lady awoke within his heart:
O Lady Wanderer in her dress
its weft woven off the moon
silvern threads coalesce
in her hair stars are strewn
Robes sacred around her lady form
flowing silently in the night
o maiden sacred born
gifted with the Sight
A Lady Mystic
in a gown of moonlight woven
of moonlight is her crown
w´ diamond stars; tears eternal frozen
In the Nameless she is at Rest
when life was yet at one
ere East could compare the West
ere the rise of dusk and dawn
No silence and no sound
no thought nor thoughtless mind
to not be lost nor found
no darkness nor stars that shined
O Lady Arisen beyond the Dream
in the mountains all alone
her robes in the wind would gently stream
among the silent stone
Then he knew that he would Wander, wander in the spring, and allow what would seek his Vow, nameless as it was, to find him.
༊
Thank you for having read the second chapter of The Silver Path. The chapter demonstrates the book emphasises meditative wandering and a deep mystic connection with a spacious natural environment. In this sense, the work is certainly not intended to be a page turner.
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