Jonathan Livingston Seagull

“They are saying in the Flock that if you are not the Son of the Great Gull Himself”, Fletcher told Jonathan one morning after Advanced Speed Practice, “then you are a thousand years ahead of your time.”
Jonathan sighed. The price of being misunderstood he thought. They call you devil or they call you god. “What do you think, Fletch? Are we ahead of our time?”
A long silence, “Well, this kind of flying has always been here to be learned by anyone who wanted to discover it; that’s got nothing to do with time. We’re ahead of the fashion, maybe. Ahead of the way that most gulls fly.”“That’s something,” Jonathan said, rolling to glide inverted for a while. “That’s not half as bad as being ahead of our time”.
Richard Bach
Jonathan Livingston Seagull

The Seagull Speaks Creative Commons Copyright

Creative Commons License
Original work on The Seagull Speaks by Michael A Wride is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivs 3.0 Unported License.

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

For the Messengers

In the depths of the night,
When silence reigns,
Will the words come to you,
Like the rising wind.

You will use those words,
To reclaim the sheep on the hillsides,
Who find themselves lost in the snow.

You will help guide them along a new path,
That they already know how to follow,
And your words will be solid and perfect and wise.

You will always know what to say,
Because the words will come from the inner-most core of your being,
And the people will begin to know that what you have to say is the truth.

“A light in the darkness,
The truth,
Despite their lies”

Previously, you didn’t understand the significance of the words you received,
And wrote down.

But these words existed within you,
From all eternity,
From the beginning,
From a thought that flickered,
And then burst into flames,
And still walks within you,
Flowing through your veins.

And in your inner sanctums,
Reside the words that are written for all time.

They have been placed like the most precious jewels,
In the most ornately decorated caskets that you could ever imagine,
Waiting to be opened.

And you will continue to awake in the middle of the night,
With your spirit swelling with abundance, with joy, with pride, with wonder,
Within you!

And the words will come,
And you will know them instantly,
For they have always existed,
Since the beginning of time and space.

And it is through you all that many people will know the truth,
Of the cleansing power of the spirit and of all creation,
Seemingly from without,
But from deep within.

And the lost ones will call you,
And you will help the shepherds on the hillsides to bring the sheep home,
And all the wayward ones who bleat and shuffle in the dark and in the cold.

The ones who are lost,
The ones who cry.

And the words will come,
Again and again,
Like the inexorable tide,
Like they did for Myrddin in the old days,
When his spirit also guided him.

This is the day of your dreaming,
The beginning of your true calling,
To become a messenger,
One who understands,
One who knows the truth,
And teaches it,
Whether it is accepted or not,
By the fearful ones,
Who turn away from it.

For you are the fighters,
The warriors,
Bringing down the sword of truth.

And know that the work is good,
And that the load you carry is light.

1 comment:

  1. thanks for finding me :)
    i'll enjoy my stay in you world, seems we surround ourselves with similar beauties.
    with love