That night Adialon prayed again in gratitude. He prayed, thankful for the life granted him. He prayed in gratitude for the people in his village, who cared so much for him. He prayed in thanks for others who had the same ability he had, to dream, whether or not they were angels. He prayed in gratitude for the help they had been to him, in saving him from the darkness. He thanked his Maker for the marvelous, powerful gift of song which had held the darkness at bay while he moved toward the light. He thanked Him for his sister, Melorelah and her wonderful, calming influence. He spent a long time there, kneeling before his Maker, pouring his soul out. There seemed to be no end to the list of things to be grateful for. He knelt for so long that his legs lost the feeling in them, and his arms and hands became numb…
Adialon received his wish that night. He dreamed he was atop a hill overlooking a grassy plain. As he awoke into his dream, he sat up, and then arose to his feet. He looked down the hill to his village, where his kinsfolk slept. A surge of emotion welled up in him. He did not long to be with them, but he felt as though he had left a great part of himself in their midst.
As indeed I have, he thought, remembering his Heart. Perhaps this is what I shall ever feel, away from each of them. Until we meet again, dear ones.
He raised his hand in token of a silent farewell.
‘There’s no need to say goodbye just yet,’ said a voice behind him.
Adialon turned in surprise.
There the Boy stood with a small smile on his face.
‘You’ll see them again.’
‘I know I shall,’ Adialon replied. ‘Whether in this life or in the next, be it according to the will of God.’
‘I’m curious,’ said the Boy. ‘Why do you feel such sadness at being parted with them? You don’t want to be among them anymore.’
‘I suppose because I am wary of leaving such a vital part of myself with them, unprotected and unbeknown to them. It seems I am taking a frightful risk.’
The Boy shook his head. ‘You’ve given your Heart the best protection it could have- no one but your sister knows about it. You know she’ll never tell anyone.’
‘How is it you are able to discern my every thought, Boy?’
The Boy smiled. ‘That’s part of my ability.’
‘What else can you do?’
‘I can do anything I want to do.’
‘Anything? Anything you desire?’
‘Yes.’
By an unspoken agreement, they both sat down upon the ground, facing one another.
‘We come to the question I asked your friend, the one who was adamant in her claim that she was no angel,’ said Adialon. ‘Why do you tether yourself here on earth, when you so readily could depart for heaven? What holds you back?’
‘The same thing that holds you back- the fact that people need me here, and need us here.’
‘But why? Is not God watching over all of us? Can He not watch over those we leave behind?’
‘Yes. But that’s not the only thing to think about. There are things that we might need to do still, part of our reason for coming here in the first place. Things that only we can do.’
‘And if we have done what we were sent here to do? What then?’
‘Then we just have to wait.’
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
Saturday, September 25, 2010
Friday, September 24, 2010
The Dreamer Pt. Nine
Within the blazing white light he saw four figures, from whom the light seemed to be emanating. Each of them knelt on the ground, heads bowed, eyes closed and arms folded. Together they formed a circle facing inward.
They are praying! he thought in awe. Even in the midst of this deathly blackness, they are praying.
And I shall join them!
He moved forward, intending to kneel just outside the circle, for it was very tightly formed and he did not want to disturb them. As he moved within a few steps, however, they shifted around on the ground, leaving an open place for him.
They can feel me. He knelt on the ground among them, feeling unworthy to be in their presence. For who was he to dwell among angels, whose light he could not, at first, bear to behold? Who was he to presume to kneel here among them, whose very presence kept the darkness at bay?
He folded his arms and bowed his head.
He could think of nothing to ask for; instead he gave voice to the gratitude brimming within.
…I thank thee for carrying me through the darkness. I thank thee for giving me the gift of song. I thank thee for the marvelous light which has saved my life. I thank thee for these, thine angels round about me. Always hast thou been near me. Always hast thou watched over me. May I in some way repay thee for all which thou hast done for me. May thy will ever be done…
He did not know how long he knelt there, pouring his soul out to his Heavenly Father. All he knew was that he wanted to pray, and to keep praying, forever. It felt like no other time he had prayed, for he felt closer to heaven in this ‘eye of the storm’ than he ever had in less dangerous circumstances. It was almost as if he needed the darkness to have the intense desire to cling to the light. It was also as if these shining beings, these angels filled with light were in as much need as he was to pray. And he felt certain that it was their combined prayers that held the darkness at bay, just as his song had kept him from fainting while he had traveled through it. As he continued to pray, he began to be filled with a desire to know the identities of these angels among whom he knelt. Who were these angels, and how did they come to have such a light about them? How were they able to sustain such a marvelous brilliance when it had taken all he had had to merely hold the darkness at bay? And who was he to wonder?
At that moment he felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder. His eyes opened in surprise.
One of the angels, a female, had placed her hand on him. Her eyes looked into his for a moment, and he felt that she could see deep into his soul. Her countenance was so bright, so beautiful, that his heart was nearly overcome with emotion. He could not speak.
‘It’s okay,’ she whispered to him. ‘It’s going to be okay now. You’re safe here.’
He smiled his gratitude to her. How had she known that his heart was filled with turmoil when he had not spoken?
‘There aren’t secrets here when we’re filled with the light,’ she said, answering his unspoken question.
At last his tongue was freed, but before he was able to give voice to the questions that burned within him, she raised a hand.
‘Let’s go over here where we can talk without being too noisy for them,’ she said, indicating a spot a few paces away.
When they had both retreated from the other three angels, Adialon gave his voice free reign.
‘How did you hear my thought, O angel? How are you able to keep the darkness at bay with such ease? Who are you, and where do you come from? How do you burn with white light without being consumed?’
‘You are nearly filled with it too, but you haven’t realized it,’ she said to him.
‘How can this be? There was a boy who was with me before I was engulfed by the darkness, who told me much the same thing.’
‘Was it that boy?’ she asked quietly, pointing back to where the remaining three angels still knelt.
Adialon searched their faces intently for a moment.
‘Yes!’ he exclaimed. ‘The angel in the center has the face of the boy with whom I spoke.’
‘Why do you keep calling us angels?’ she asked curiously.
‘Is that not what you are, in truth? How else could you shine forth so brightly? I find it difficult to believe that mere people could do the same.’
‘People can be angels, and angels, people,’ she told him.
‘Then you are angels,’ he concluded. ‘Whether you realize it or not.’
The angel shrugged. ‘Maybe. I guess to some people we are.’
‘Then you are closer to the throne of God than we are! Why do you not return to Him when you are so close? What is it that holds you here, when it must be said that you belong somewhere else? Could you not pray that He take you to him? Do you not want to return?’
Adialon noticed a subtle change in the angel’s eyes. He did not at first know what it was, but she seemed to be looking at him with new eyes, as though seeing him for the first time.
She was frightened! Adialon reeled in shock. An angel, frightened! What was there on earth that could frighten such a being?
‘I’m not an angel,’ she said shakily. ‘I’m just a girl. A girl with some special abilities, but that’s all.’
‘A girl,’ he repeated, unbelieving. He wanted to shake her. It could not be true.
‘It is true, Adialon,’ said another voice. He turned and saw the Boy walking toward him, his light hidden again.
‘Boy! How can you be anything other than angels? I do not understand it!’
‘You’re taking all of this in much too quickly. You need to take a break from it. I will take you back to the place you fell asleep in.’
Adialon took several slow, deep breaths.
‘Perhaps you are right. It is, no doubt, for the best.’
‘That’s right,’ the Boy said encouragingly. ‘Come on, now.’
They began to move away from the others. Adialon did not look back, for he was falling into shock. The darkness melted away as they moved through it. Soon it had all dispersed.
The Boy began to ask him questions about his homeland. How many people lived in his village? What sorts of things did they do for exercising, for working, for fun? Were there many animals? What kind of animals did they have? Was it warm there, or did the weather change with the seasons? Were there many lakes and streams, oceans and rivers? Were there great mountains and rolling hills, or were there great expanses of plains as far as the eye could see? Were there many children in their villages? How many children in each family he knew? Did they keep animals as companions?
Before long Adialon fell into a kind of half-stupor. He would stumble along beside the Boy, completely at a loss as to where to put his feet or how to steady himself with his arms. He had forgotten how to walk. At times the Boy would put a hand on his shoulder to steady him, other times he would give an encouraging word.
‘You’re doing great.’
‘Keep on going, we’re almost there.’
‘Watch out for that rock.’
‘Come around the tree this way.’
It seemed as though an entire age was passing as they traveled. Adialon felt so weak, as though he had lost all strength in addition to losing his balance.
He could not think of what he would do when he returned to where he had slept. He did not feel as though he had the strength to gather food, or to hunt meat, for he was yet loathe to go back to the village.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ the Boy said. ‘It will be taken care of.’
He accepted the answer without question.
In time they reached the grove.
There sat on the ground a large, hand woven basket, filled with fruits, herbs of the field, and nuts of various kinds.
‘The people of your village care a great deal for you,’ the Boy observed.
‘Yes,’ came Adialon’s simple answer.
‘I’ll leave you here to sleep. We’ll see you soon. Try to stay busy, okay?’
‘Yes,’ Adialon said again as he sat down upon the ground. After a moment he turned to ask the Boy when he would meet them again, but the Boy was gone.
He lay down as he had at the beginning of the dream, closed his eyes, and awoke. He sat up, looking around him. There on the ground before him was the basket of food.
He realized that he was ravenously hungry.
He took his time, feeling as though he was too weak to rush. He savored the sweetness of the fruit, peeling, cutting and eating each piece. He enjoyed the taste of the herbs, and the nuts. As he ate, his sensitivity to his surroundings, the scent of the trees and grass, the wind blowing in his hair, the sight of the late afternoon sun going down, returned. He was alive again, and more so than before.
Adialon found, for the first time in a long while, that there was something he longed for other than death.
He longed to dream again.
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
They are praying! he thought in awe. Even in the midst of this deathly blackness, they are praying.
And I shall join them!
He moved forward, intending to kneel just outside the circle, for it was very tightly formed and he did not want to disturb them. As he moved within a few steps, however, they shifted around on the ground, leaving an open place for him.
They can feel me. He knelt on the ground among them, feeling unworthy to be in their presence. For who was he to dwell among angels, whose light he could not, at first, bear to behold? Who was he to presume to kneel here among them, whose very presence kept the darkness at bay?
He folded his arms and bowed his head.
He could think of nothing to ask for; instead he gave voice to the gratitude brimming within.
…I thank thee for carrying me through the darkness. I thank thee for giving me the gift of song. I thank thee for the marvelous light which has saved my life. I thank thee for these, thine angels round about me. Always hast thou been near me. Always hast thou watched over me. May I in some way repay thee for all which thou hast done for me. May thy will ever be done…
He did not know how long he knelt there, pouring his soul out to his Heavenly Father. All he knew was that he wanted to pray, and to keep praying, forever. It felt like no other time he had prayed, for he felt closer to heaven in this ‘eye of the storm’ than he ever had in less dangerous circumstances. It was almost as if he needed the darkness to have the intense desire to cling to the light. It was also as if these shining beings, these angels filled with light were in as much need as he was to pray. And he felt certain that it was their combined prayers that held the darkness at bay, just as his song had kept him from fainting while he had traveled through it. As he continued to pray, he began to be filled with a desire to know the identities of these angels among whom he knelt. Who were these angels, and how did they come to have such a light about them? How were they able to sustain such a marvelous brilliance when it had taken all he had had to merely hold the darkness at bay? And who was he to wonder?
At that moment he felt a hand come to rest on his shoulder. His eyes opened in surprise.
One of the angels, a female, had placed her hand on him. Her eyes looked into his for a moment, and he felt that she could see deep into his soul. Her countenance was so bright, so beautiful, that his heart was nearly overcome with emotion. He could not speak.
‘It’s okay,’ she whispered to him. ‘It’s going to be okay now. You’re safe here.’
He smiled his gratitude to her. How had she known that his heart was filled with turmoil when he had not spoken?
‘There aren’t secrets here when we’re filled with the light,’ she said, answering his unspoken question.
At last his tongue was freed, but before he was able to give voice to the questions that burned within him, she raised a hand.
‘Let’s go over here where we can talk without being too noisy for them,’ she said, indicating a spot a few paces away.
When they had both retreated from the other three angels, Adialon gave his voice free reign.
‘How did you hear my thought, O angel? How are you able to keep the darkness at bay with such ease? Who are you, and where do you come from? How do you burn with white light without being consumed?’
‘You are nearly filled with it too, but you haven’t realized it,’ she said to him.
‘How can this be? There was a boy who was with me before I was engulfed by the darkness, who told me much the same thing.’
‘Was it that boy?’ she asked quietly, pointing back to where the remaining three angels still knelt.
Adialon searched their faces intently for a moment.
‘Yes!’ he exclaimed. ‘The angel in the center has the face of the boy with whom I spoke.’
‘Why do you keep calling us angels?’ she asked curiously.
‘Is that not what you are, in truth? How else could you shine forth so brightly? I find it difficult to believe that mere people could do the same.’
‘People can be angels, and angels, people,’ she told him.
‘Then you are angels,’ he concluded. ‘Whether you realize it or not.’
The angel shrugged. ‘Maybe. I guess to some people we are.’
‘Then you are closer to the throne of God than we are! Why do you not return to Him when you are so close? What is it that holds you here, when it must be said that you belong somewhere else? Could you not pray that He take you to him? Do you not want to return?’
Adialon noticed a subtle change in the angel’s eyes. He did not at first know what it was, but she seemed to be looking at him with new eyes, as though seeing him for the first time.
She was frightened! Adialon reeled in shock. An angel, frightened! What was there on earth that could frighten such a being?
‘I’m not an angel,’ she said shakily. ‘I’m just a girl. A girl with some special abilities, but that’s all.’
‘A girl,’ he repeated, unbelieving. He wanted to shake her. It could not be true.
‘It is true, Adialon,’ said another voice. He turned and saw the Boy walking toward him, his light hidden again.
‘Boy! How can you be anything other than angels? I do not understand it!’
‘You’re taking all of this in much too quickly. You need to take a break from it. I will take you back to the place you fell asleep in.’
Adialon took several slow, deep breaths.
‘Perhaps you are right. It is, no doubt, for the best.’
‘That’s right,’ the Boy said encouragingly. ‘Come on, now.’
They began to move away from the others. Adialon did not look back, for he was falling into shock. The darkness melted away as they moved through it. Soon it had all dispersed.
The Boy began to ask him questions about his homeland. How many people lived in his village? What sorts of things did they do for exercising, for working, for fun? Were there many animals? What kind of animals did they have? Was it warm there, or did the weather change with the seasons? Were there many lakes and streams, oceans and rivers? Were there great mountains and rolling hills, or were there great expanses of plains as far as the eye could see? Were there many children in their villages? How many children in each family he knew? Did they keep animals as companions?
Before long Adialon fell into a kind of half-stupor. He would stumble along beside the Boy, completely at a loss as to where to put his feet or how to steady himself with his arms. He had forgotten how to walk. At times the Boy would put a hand on his shoulder to steady him, other times he would give an encouraging word.
‘You’re doing great.’
‘Keep on going, we’re almost there.’
‘Watch out for that rock.’
‘Come around the tree this way.’
It seemed as though an entire age was passing as they traveled. Adialon felt so weak, as though he had lost all strength in addition to losing his balance.
He could not think of what he would do when he returned to where he had slept. He did not feel as though he had the strength to gather food, or to hunt meat, for he was yet loathe to go back to the village.
‘Don’t worry about it,’ the Boy said. ‘It will be taken care of.’
He accepted the answer without question.
In time they reached the grove.
There sat on the ground a large, hand woven basket, filled with fruits, herbs of the field, and nuts of various kinds.
‘The people of your village care a great deal for you,’ the Boy observed.
‘Yes,’ came Adialon’s simple answer.
‘I’ll leave you here to sleep. We’ll see you soon. Try to stay busy, okay?’
‘Yes,’ Adialon said again as he sat down upon the ground. After a moment he turned to ask the Boy when he would meet them again, but the Boy was gone.
He lay down as he had at the beginning of the dream, closed his eyes, and awoke. He sat up, looking around him. There on the ground before him was the basket of food.
He realized that he was ravenously hungry.
He took his time, feeling as though he was too weak to rush. He savored the sweetness of the fruit, peeling, cutting and eating each piece. He enjoyed the taste of the herbs, and the nuts. As he ate, his sensitivity to his surroundings, the scent of the trees and grass, the wind blowing in his hair, the sight of the late afternoon sun going down, returned. He was alive again, and more so than before.
Adialon found, for the first time in a long while, that there was something he longed for other than death.
He longed to dream again.
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
Thursday, September 23, 2010
The Dreamer Pt Eight
Adialon hurried toward the place where he and the Boy had last spoken. When he was within a few paces, he became aware of a dark cloud before him, and suddenly was afraid.
He did not know where it came from or why he did it, but he started singing an old lullaby his mother had sang to him when he was very little.
A child of Heavenly Father am I
I am worth worlds above
And if I always stay near the light
I will be embraced by His love
As he sang Adialon could feel the darkness becoming thicker. Though he became more afraid, he sang all the clearer, willing the darkness to disperse.
No darkness can ever withstand
The light that flows from His throne
And if I always stay near the light
I never shall be all alone
Now the darkness was all around him. Though he was deathly afraid now, he kept singing, feeling that it was his only weapon against such an unfathomable foe.
The angels are always near me
To help me on my way
The nearer I come unto the light
The brighter shall be each day
The darkness seemed to be thickening, hemming in around him on every side.
He is always nearer
Than we think He’ll be
The nearer we come unto the light
The more we shall be free
He began to see flashes of light from further within the darkness.
Though the darkness fights me
As I strive toward the light
The brighter my own light becomes
As I choose the right
The flashes of light were coming nearer. Adialon continued to sing, going over the same verses again and again as he moved through the darkness. He was unable to think of anything else to do, for the darkness seemed to stifle every other thought.
Then from the midst of the darkness, a light burned brighter than any before it and held. Adialon moved instinctively toward it, as a drowning man moves toward a piece of driftwood. As he came closer, the darkness thinned, little by little. The light became bright and brighter, until there seemed to be only a thin curtain of darkness between he and the light. He stumbled forward another step or two, and broke through the curtain. Adialon threw up his arm to shield his eyes, for after being in the darkness his eyes were not prepared to view anything so bright. Within the blazing white light he saw four figures, from whom the light seemed to be emanating. Each of them knelt on the ground, heads bowed, eyes closed and arms folded. Together they formed a circle facing inward.
They are praying! he thought in awe. Even in the midst of this deathly blackness, they are praying.
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
He did not know where it came from or why he did it, but he started singing an old lullaby his mother had sang to him when he was very little.
A child of Heavenly Father am I
I am worth worlds above
And if I always stay near the light
I will be embraced by His love
As he sang Adialon could feel the darkness becoming thicker. Though he became more afraid, he sang all the clearer, willing the darkness to disperse.
No darkness can ever withstand
The light that flows from His throne
And if I always stay near the light
I never shall be all alone
Now the darkness was all around him. Though he was deathly afraid now, he kept singing, feeling that it was his only weapon against such an unfathomable foe.
The angels are always near me
To help me on my way
The nearer I come unto the light
The brighter shall be each day
The darkness seemed to be thickening, hemming in around him on every side.
He is always nearer
Than we think He’ll be
The nearer we come unto the light
The more we shall be free
He began to see flashes of light from further within the darkness.
Though the darkness fights me
As I strive toward the light
The brighter my own light becomes
As I choose the right
The flashes of light were coming nearer. Adialon continued to sing, going over the same verses again and again as he moved through the darkness. He was unable to think of anything else to do, for the darkness seemed to stifle every other thought.
Then from the midst of the darkness, a light burned brighter than any before it and held. Adialon moved instinctively toward it, as a drowning man moves toward a piece of driftwood. As he came closer, the darkness thinned, little by little. The light became bright and brighter, until there seemed to be only a thin curtain of darkness between he and the light. He stumbled forward another step or two, and broke through the curtain. Adialon threw up his arm to shield his eyes, for after being in the darkness his eyes were not prepared to view anything so bright. Within the blazing white light he saw four figures, from whom the light seemed to be emanating. Each of them knelt on the ground, heads bowed, eyes closed and arms folded. Together they formed a circle facing inward.
They are praying! he thought in awe. Even in the midst of this deathly blackness, they are praying.
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
The Dreamer Pt. Seven
‘I come here every night when I dream. I have come ever since I was a toddler- a one- or two-year-old,’ the Boy added at Adialon’s confused look. ‘I have never lost my ability to see, because I treasure it as a precious gift, though a heavy gift.’
‘Indeed,’ Adialon nodded. ‘I feel as though I am rediscovering an old gift. I used to dream when I was younger, but have since lost it, the ability or the aptitude.’
‘You haven’t lost it. You’ve just forgotten it.’
‘Are they not the same?’
‘No. One is about the physical world, one is about memory.’
‘Ah. I see your reasoning. So what happens at this time?’
‘There is a lost little boy wandering alone up this next street. I'll go to comfort him and take him home. What about you?’
Adialon knew instinctively that he needed to learn all he could about this world, and he also knew that this boy, if anyone, could teach him.
‘I will come with you.’
‘This is a dangerous world,’ the Boy warned him. ‘If you stay, you will be under constant attack, whether you know it or not.’
‘You have survived thus far,’ Adialon pointed out. ‘Will you teach me to do the same?’
The Boy nodded slowly. ‘Yes.’
The Boy strode down the pathway of stone, Adialon following. In a moment they turned a corner onto the next- ‘Street,’ Adialon thought aloud, remembering what the Boy had said. A little two or three year old boy sat on a raised part of the street, weeping piteously.
Adialon watched closely to see what the Boy would do. Power blazing forth is hardly what the child needs, thought Adialon.
The Boy squatted on his heels next to the child, who looked up with red, swollen eyes, tears streaming down his face.
‘Hey there,’ he murmured. ‘It’s going to be okay.’
The child looked solemnly up at the Boy for a moment. Then, to Adialon’s wonder, he reached up his arms toward the Boy, who gently picked him up.
‘Come on, buddy. Let’s get you home.’
Adialon followed as the Boy carried the child, curled up with his face buried in the Boy’s shoulder.
Time passed as they crossed one street and turned onto another, until Adialon had lost all sense of direction. The Boy must know where he is going. Soon the little boy had stopped crying. In only a few moments more the child had fallen into a deep slumber, his fears and sorrows forgotten.
Such a simple thing to do, Adialon thought, to reach out and care for someone else. We are much the same, really. Both giving of ourselves. Both concerned for those in our sphere of influence.
‘We’re almost there,’ said the Boy.
The Boy had taken only a few more steps when he stiffened, looking around him in sudden alarm. He quickly turned to Adialon. ‘Take him!’ he said, handing the child over to Adialon, who accepted the child into his own arms unquestioningly. The Boy pointed to a dwelling farther up the street. ‘He lives there. Hurry!’
The Boy then turned away, his hands tightening into fists as though readying himself for a fight.
Adialon did not stay to find out what would happen. He hurried to the dwelling the Boy had pointed out, and rapped smartly on the dwelling’s closed portal. Almost immediately the portal opened, to show a diminutive, raven-haired woman, whose face was streaked with dried tears. At first the woman seemed wary, almost afraid of him, but then her eyes fell to the child in his arms.
‘Sammy!’ she cried. ‘Oh, Sammy, my poor boy!’ She reached out to take the slumbering child into her own arms. She held him close, rocking him slowly back and forth. Her eyes then returned to him.
‘Thank you! Thank you so much! I have been so worried. I took him with me to visit my friend and we were talking in her yard; I put him down for moment, talking to my friend, and when I looked down he was gone.’
‘Twas my pleasure, lady,’ he said awkwardly. ‘In truth, it was not I but my friend who found him.’
‘Will you please tell him thank you for me?’ she smiled through her tears.
‘I shall.’
When the portal had closed, Adialon turned, looking up the street from whence he had come.
The Boy was gone.
Adialon hurried toward the place where he and the Boy had last spoken. When he was within a few paces, he became aware of a dark cloud before him, and suddenly was afraid.
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
‘Indeed,’ Adialon nodded. ‘I feel as though I am rediscovering an old gift. I used to dream when I was younger, but have since lost it, the ability or the aptitude.’
‘You haven’t lost it. You’ve just forgotten it.’
‘Are they not the same?’
‘No. One is about the physical world, one is about memory.’
‘Ah. I see your reasoning. So what happens at this time?’
‘There is a lost little boy wandering alone up this next street. I'll go to comfort him and take him home. What about you?’
Adialon knew instinctively that he needed to learn all he could about this world, and he also knew that this boy, if anyone, could teach him.
‘I will come with you.’
‘This is a dangerous world,’ the Boy warned him. ‘If you stay, you will be under constant attack, whether you know it or not.’
‘You have survived thus far,’ Adialon pointed out. ‘Will you teach me to do the same?’
The Boy nodded slowly. ‘Yes.’
The Boy strode down the pathway of stone, Adialon following. In a moment they turned a corner onto the next- ‘Street,’ Adialon thought aloud, remembering what the Boy had said. A little two or three year old boy sat on a raised part of the street, weeping piteously.
Adialon watched closely to see what the Boy would do. Power blazing forth is hardly what the child needs, thought Adialon.
The Boy squatted on his heels next to the child, who looked up with red, swollen eyes, tears streaming down his face.
‘Hey there,’ he murmured. ‘It’s going to be okay.’
The child looked solemnly up at the Boy for a moment. Then, to Adialon’s wonder, he reached up his arms toward the Boy, who gently picked him up.
‘Come on, buddy. Let’s get you home.’
Adialon followed as the Boy carried the child, curled up with his face buried in the Boy’s shoulder.
Time passed as they crossed one street and turned onto another, until Adialon had lost all sense of direction. The Boy must know where he is going. Soon the little boy had stopped crying. In only a few moments more the child had fallen into a deep slumber, his fears and sorrows forgotten.
Such a simple thing to do, Adialon thought, to reach out and care for someone else. We are much the same, really. Both giving of ourselves. Both concerned for those in our sphere of influence.
‘We’re almost there,’ said the Boy.
The Boy had taken only a few more steps when he stiffened, looking around him in sudden alarm. He quickly turned to Adialon. ‘Take him!’ he said, handing the child over to Adialon, who accepted the child into his own arms unquestioningly. The Boy pointed to a dwelling farther up the street. ‘He lives there. Hurry!’
The Boy then turned away, his hands tightening into fists as though readying himself for a fight.
Adialon did not stay to find out what would happen. He hurried to the dwelling the Boy had pointed out, and rapped smartly on the dwelling’s closed portal. Almost immediately the portal opened, to show a diminutive, raven-haired woman, whose face was streaked with dried tears. At first the woman seemed wary, almost afraid of him, but then her eyes fell to the child in his arms.
‘Sammy!’ she cried. ‘Oh, Sammy, my poor boy!’ She reached out to take the slumbering child into her own arms. She held him close, rocking him slowly back and forth. Her eyes then returned to him.
‘Thank you! Thank you so much! I have been so worried. I took him with me to visit my friend and we were talking in her yard; I put him down for moment, talking to my friend, and when I looked down he was gone.’
‘Twas my pleasure, lady,’ he said awkwardly. ‘In truth, it was not I but my friend who found him.’
‘Will you please tell him thank you for me?’ she smiled through her tears.
‘I shall.’
When the portal had closed, Adialon turned, looking up the street from whence he had come.
The Boy was gone.
Adialon hurried toward the place where he and the Boy had last spoken. When he was within a few paces, he became aware of a dark cloud before him, and suddenly was afraid.
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
Friday, September 17, 2010
The Dreamer Pt. Six
He was in the same place he had left, outside the dwelling- place. There the boy stood with his back to Adialon. The light that surrounded him before was gone.
Or hidden, Adialon thought.
‘I know who you are,’ said the boy.
‘Who am I?’ Adialon asked, curious as to the boy’s answer.
The boy turned to face him. ‘You’re a man of courage. You’ve fought a lot of battles with your enemies, and have lost a lot of them, but haven’t ever quit. You have saved your family from being wiped out. Everyone in your village owes their life to you, whether they know it or not.’
‘I suppose that is true; however, I was simply doing what I could for my kith and kin.’
‘Family and friends,’ the boy said, nodding. ‘But that’s not all you’ve done.’
‘What is it you imply?’
‘You have laid your soul down as an open sacrifice for everyone you know. Not just your body, but your whole soul. You have given up everything you want for the benefit of everyone else. You have been completely selfless in what you have done. You have fought for so long and spread yourself so thin that you cannot feel any more strength inside you to fight with.’
‘You are not wrong,’ Adialon said. He sat down upon a large rock. The boy sat on another rock across from him.
‘Since you already know so much about me, you must know my name.’
‘But it would be rude to not ask you anyway,’ the boy replied. ‘So, what’s your name?’
‘I am called Adialon where I have come from. What are you called?’
‘They call me Boy.’
‘That is all? Just Boy?’
‘Yes. I have another name, but it’s hidden.’
‘Has it always been hidden?’
‘Ever since I was very little.’
Adialon nodded. He decided not to press the matter. He then looked around him, at the trees and the sky.
‘What world is this?’ Adialon wondered aloud.
‘It is two worlds at once,’ the Boy replied. ‘The dream world, and the spirit world. Anything can happen here. Anything at all.’
‘Then it is a place where worlds meet?’
‘Worlds, and times too.’
‘Do we come from the same world, or perhaps the same time?’
‘Not the same time. Maybe different times of the same world, but I don’t know.’
‘How were you able to do that, before? How were you able to show yourself to the man, and the little girl, back yonder? Were we not, are we not still dreaming?’
‘Yes,’ the Boy said. ‘But we’re dreaming what is really happening. Our dreams are real.’
‘Real dreams. Then they are not truly dreams. They are in fact-’
‘Reality. Yes, they are.’
Adialon pondered this for a moment. Then his questioning began anew.
‘How did you blaze forth, like a torch in a dark place? How did you do such a thing without burning yourself to ash?’
‘My light comes from inside me; so does yours.’
Adialon looked himself over. ‘I see no light.’
‘You have to see it with your spiritual eyes. Maybe you haven’t developed them well enough to see yet. And that’s how others will see you here. When you share your light, it grows. The more it grows, the more people can see it.’
‘How do you know so much of this world? I sense that you are very wise, and yet so very young.’
‘I come here every night when I dream. I have come ever since I was a toddler- a one- or two-year-old,’ he added at Adialon’s confused look. ‘I have never lost my ability to see, because I treasure it as a precious gift, though a heavy gift.’
‘Indeed,’ Adialon nodded. ‘I feel as though I am rediscovering an old gift. I used to dream when I was younger, but have since lost it, the ability or the aptitude.’
‘You haven’t lost it. You’ve just forgotten it.’
‘Are they not the same?’
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
Or hidden, Adialon thought.
‘I know who you are,’ said the boy.
‘Who am I?’ Adialon asked, curious as to the boy’s answer.
The boy turned to face him. ‘You’re a man of courage. You’ve fought a lot of battles with your enemies, and have lost a lot of them, but haven’t ever quit. You have saved your family from being wiped out. Everyone in your village owes their life to you, whether they know it or not.’
‘I suppose that is true; however, I was simply doing what I could for my kith and kin.’
‘Family and friends,’ the boy said, nodding. ‘But that’s not all you’ve done.’
‘What is it you imply?’
‘You have laid your soul down as an open sacrifice for everyone you know. Not just your body, but your whole soul. You have given up everything you want for the benefit of everyone else. You have been completely selfless in what you have done. You have fought for so long and spread yourself so thin that you cannot feel any more strength inside you to fight with.’
‘You are not wrong,’ Adialon said. He sat down upon a large rock. The boy sat on another rock across from him.
‘Since you already know so much about me, you must know my name.’
‘But it would be rude to not ask you anyway,’ the boy replied. ‘So, what’s your name?’
‘I am called Adialon where I have come from. What are you called?’
‘They call me Boy.’
‘That is all? Just Boy?’
‘Yes. I have another name, but it’s hidden.’
‘Has it always been hidden?’
‘Ever since I was very little.’
Adialon nodded. He decided not to press the matter. He then looked around him, at the trees and the sky.
‘What world is this?’ Adialon wondered aloud.
‘It is two worlds at once,’ the Boy replied. ‘The dream world, and the spirit world. Anything can happen here. Anything at all.’
‘Then it is a place where worlds meet?’
‘Worlds, and times too.’
‘Do we come from the same world, or perhaps the same time?’
‘Not the same time. Maybe different times of the same world, but I don’t know.’
‘How were you able to do that, before? How were you able to show yourself to the man, and the little girl, back yonder? Were we not, are we not still dreaming?’
‘Yes,’ the Boy said. ‘But we’re dreaming what is really happening. Our dreams are real.’
‘Real dreams. Then they are not truly dreams. They are in fact-’
‘Reality. Yes, they are.’
Adialon pondered this for a moment. Then his questioning began anew.
‘How did you blaze forth, like a torch in a dark place? How did you do such a thing without burning yourself to ash?’
‘My light comes from inside me; so does yours.’
Adialon looked himself over. ‘I see no light.’
‘You have to see it with your spiritual eyes. Maybe you haven’t developed them well enough to see yet. And that’s how others will see you here. When you share your light, it grows. The more it grows, the more people can see it.’
‘How do you know so much of this world? I sense that you are very wise, and yet so very young.’
‘I come here every night when I dream. I have come ever since I was a toddler- a one- or two-year-old,’ he added at Adialon’s confused look. ‘I have never lost my ability to see, because I treasure it as a precious gift, though a heavy gift.’
‘Indeed,’ Adialon nodded. ‘I feel as though I am rediscovering an old gift. I used to dream when I was younger, but have since lost it, the ability or the aptitude.’
‘You haven’t lost it. You’ve just forgotten it.’
‘Are they not the same?’
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
Monday, September 13, 2010
The Dreamer Part Five
A wave of loss swept over him at what had been. Tears again came to his eyes as he knelt by the rock.
It is I who have changed. Adialon folded his arms and bowed his head with the tears pouring down his face.
‘Oh my Father in Heaven…’
That night he dreamed of a small dwelling place. Before the dwelling’s front entrance, a tall, thin man sat. In his hand he held a small twig, its end glowing. He raised the twig and placed the end of it between his lips. After a moment, he removed the twig and blew a cloud of smoke into the air.
Adialon’s mouth opened in astonishment. This man can breathe fire!
At that moment a portal opened in the dwelling’s wall, and a small girl appeared in the opening.
‘Daddy?’
The man turned and screamed at her to get back inside. The girl, now terrified, turned and fled into the dwelling. The man arose and followed after her, a look of intense rage on his face. Though Adialon did not understand the child’s salutation, he could not allow this man to harm such an innocent soul. He followed silently after the man into the dwelling.
The child was cowering against the wall, tears running down her face, her small arm raised in defense.
‘No, Daddy!’
The man’s arm was raised to strike her. Adialon moved forward to stop him, but before he had come between man and child he felt an immense power of some kind rush past him. A brilliant light blazed before the man, who, much like the child had, cowered in sudden fear.
Adialon raised his arm instinctively to shield his vision.
Then his eyes were drawn downward by sudden movement. The child was reaching toward the light, her face aglow with rapture. From within the light he saw two shining arms emerge, which reached down and picked the child up from the ground. The angel held the child close, the child’s tear-streaked face now buried in the angel’s chest.
The angel suddenly turned his head and looked into Adialon’s eyes.
It was the boy’s face that he saw.
He awoke abruptly, breathing hard. He arose from his bed of grass and twig and paced back and forth, trying to grasp what he had seen.
The boy has become an angel? How is this possible? Has he died, thereby reaching the throne of God, and been sent from heaven to return to earth? The boy is dead!
He shook his head, disgusted with himself.
Perhaps Melorelah had been right. Perhaps my dreams, this time at the least, are nothing but dreams after all.
But it felt so real! It must be real! It simply must be!
He lay back down, battling within himself.
There is but one thing I can do, he decided. I must re-enter the dream world, and find the boy, wherever he may be. He laid his head back down upon the rock…
He was in the same place he had left, outside the dwelling- place. There the boy stood with his back to Adialon. The light that surrounded him before was gone.
Or hidden, Adialon thought.
‘I know who you are,’ said the boy.
‘Who am I?’ Adialon asked, curious as to the boy’s answer.
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
It is I who have changed. Adialon folded his arms and bowed his head with the tears pouring down his face.
‘Oh my Father in Heaven…’
That night he dreamed of a small dwelling place. Before the dwelling’s front entrance, a tall, thin man sat. In his hand he held a small twig, its end glowing. He raised the twig and placed the end of it between his lips. After a moment, he removed the twig and blew a cloud of smoke into the air.
Adialon’s mouth opened in astonishment. This man can breathe fire!
At that moment a portal opened in the dwelling’s wall, and a small girl appeared in the opening.
‘Daddy?’
The man turned and screamed at her to get back inside. The girl, now terrified, turned and fled into the dwelling. The man arose and followed after her, a look of intense rage on his face. Though Adialon did not understand the child’s salutation, he could not allow this man to harm such an innocent soul. He followed silently after the man into the dwelling.
The child was cowering against the wall, tears running down her face, her small arm raised in defense.
‘No, Daddy!’
The man’s arm was raised to strike her. Adialon moved forward to stop him, but before he had come between man and child he felt an immense power of some kind rush past him. A brilliant light blazed before the man, who, much like the child had, cowered in sudden fear.
Adialon raised his arm instinctively to shield his vision.
Then his eyes were drawn downward by sudden movement. The child was reaching toward the light, her face aglow with rapture. From within the light he saw two shining arms emerge, which reached down and picked the child up from the ground. The angel held the child close, the child’s tear-streaked face now buried in the angel’s chest.
The angel suddenly turned his head and looked into Adialon’s eyes.
It was the boy’s face that he saw.
He awoke abruptly, breathing hard. He arose from his bed of grass and twig and paced back and forth, trying to grasp what he had seen.
The boy has become an angel? How is this possible? Has he died, thereby reaching the throne of God, and been sent from heaven to return to earth? The boy is dead!
He shook his head, disgusted with himself.
Perhaps Melorelah had been right. Perhaps my dreams, this time at the least, are nothing but dreams after all.
But it felt so real! It must be real! It simply must be!
He lay back down, battling within himself.
There is but one thing I can do, he decided. I must re-enter the dream world, and find the boy, wherever he may be. He laid his head back down upon the rock…
He was in the same place he had left, outside the dwelling- place. There the boy stood with his back to Adialon. The light that surrounded him before was gone.
Or hidden, Adialon thought.
‘I know who you are,’ said the boy.
‘Who am I?’ Adialon asked, curious as to the boy’s answer.
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
Friday, September 10, 2010
The Dreamer Pt. Four
‘The boy may have seen the others who were there; I did not see that far into his mind. And I do not know who he was, except that I felt a kinship with him. But his mind! What an incredible thing it was.’
‘How do you mean?’
‘In some ways it was a very wise mind- like that of the elders, well-versed in the ways of life, full of knowledge, very empathetic to those in pain, and so forth- and in other ways, very childlike. He did not understand the desire that some have to hurt one another, to take without asking, to love without loving. Also, I did not know exactly what it was or where it came from, but I felt a power residing within him.’
‘A power? A power to do what?’
‘Anything. Anything he desired to do, he could do. And no one could stop him if he did not want to be stopped.’
‘A terrifying thought, that anyone could be so powerful.’
‘Perhaps. More exhilarating to my mind, in the hands of such a goodly soul. Imagine the difference such a soul will make in the world.’
‘Would make, you mean, if he were real.’
‘No. He was real- is real. I could feel him, Melorelah. Even as I feel you, or our people in the village down below us.’
‘Where did he come from? Did you sense that in his mind?’
‘Only two locations occurred to me while we were in each other’s minds. He is either from another time, or from another world.’
‘What did you see while you were in his mind? Anything to show you hints of where or when he came from?’
‘I saw many things, most of which I had no understanding for, or which only confused me. I saw him weeping a great amount, in his own mind- as though he had internalized his sorrow. I saw the bodies of those who had cared for him the most; his parents, now dead from some unknown, deathly poison or illness. I could see it in their still, cold faces. The boy was weeping, not knowing what has killed them but feeling that he should have been able to stop it.’
‘The poor child! I wonder what he will do now.’
‘I know not, but I feel that I shall dream of him again. Perhaps even tonight.’
Melorelah looked upon him, sadness written upon her face and in her eyes. ‘Where shall you spend this night, Adi? Among our people?’
‘No. I shall remain here, where I may ponder without distraction upon the experiences I have had.’
She looked as though she wanted to say something to him, but then stopped.
‘We love you, Adialon. I pray you, do not stay long away.’
‘I shall return as soon as ever I can,’ he promised. They embraced, and Melorelah turned to leave.
‘I shall ever pray for you, my brother.’
‘And I, you.’… He watched as she began to pick her way down the mountainside. When he could see her no longer, he turned and began to make his way to the top of the mountain. He knew of a large grove of trees at the top of the mountain, and it was to this he directed his steps.
An hour later he stood before the beautiful grove. The trees swayed gently in the breeze. He breathed in the cool, fresh air, closing his eyes for a moment to better enjoy the peace and serenity.
As he entered the grove, he saw the rock that he had visited, three years earlier. The scene was very familiar to him. Familiar, and yet strangely foreign, as though something fundamental had changed.
A wave of loss swept over him at what had been. Tears again came to his eyes as he knelt by the rock.
It is I who have changed. Adialon folded his arms and bowed his head with the tears pouring down his face.
‘Oh my Father in Heaven…’
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
‘How do you mean?’
‘In some ways it was a very wise mind- like that of the elders, well-versed in the ways of life, full of knowledge, very empathetic to those in pain, and so forth- and in other ways, very childlike. He did not understand the desire that some have to hurt one another, to take without asking, to love without loving. Also, I did not know exactly what it was or where it came from, but I felt a power residing within him.’
‘A power? A power to do what?’
‘Anything. Anything he desired to do, he could do. And no one could stop him if he did not want to be stopped.’
‘A terrifying thought, that anyone could be so powerful.’
‘Perhaps. More exhilarating to my mind, in the hands of such a goodly soul. Imagine the difference such a soul will make in the world.’
‘Would make, you mean, if he were real.’
‘No. He was real- is real. I could feel him, Melorelah. Even as I feel you, or our people in the village down below us.’
‘Where did he come from? Did you sense that in his mind?’
‘Only two locations occurred to me while we were in each other’s minds. He is either from another time, or from another world.’
‘What did you see while you were in his mind? Anything to show you hints of where or when he came from?’
‘I saw many things, most of which I had no understanding for, or which only confused me. I saw him weeping a great amount, in his own mind- as though he had internalized his sorrow. I saw the bodies of those who had cared for him the most; his parents, now dead from some unknown, deathly poison or illness. I could see it in their still, cold faces. The boy was weeping, not knowing what has killed them but feeling that he should have been able to stop it.’
‘The poor child! I wonder what he will do now.’
‘I know not, but I feel that I shall dream of him again. Perhaps even tonight.’
Melorelah looked upon him, sadness written upon her face and in her eyes. ‘Where shall you spend this night, Adi? Among our people?’
‘No. I shall remain here, where I may ponder without distraction upon the experiences I have had.’
She looked as though she wanted to say something to him, but then stopped.
‘We love you, Adialon. I pray you, do not stay long away.’
‘I shall return as soon as ever I can,’ he promised. They embraced, and Melorelah turned to leave.
‘I shall ever pray for you, my brother.’
‘And I, you.’… He watched as she began to pick her way down the mountainside. When he could see her no longer, he turned and began to make his way to the top of the mountain. He knew of a large grove of trees at the top of the mountain, and it was to this he directed his steps.
An hour later he stood before the beautiful grove. The trees swayed gently in the breeze. He breathed in the cool, fresh air, closing his eyes for a moment to better enjoy the peace and serenity.
As he entered the grove, he saw the rock that he had visited, three years earlier. The scene was very familiar to him. Familiar, and yet strangely foreign, as though something fundamental had changed.
A wave of loss swept over him at what had been. Tears again came to his eyes as he knelt by the rock.
It is I who have changed. Adialon folded his arms and bowed his head with the tears pouring down his face.
‘Oh my Father in Heaven…’
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
See
Tell me what you see, he says to me.
I see, I say quietly, darkness, for I am in a hole,
And have been here for a very long time.
There are others in this hole of mine with me.
I can feel them all around me
And then it comes to me that there is a rock by my side.
I can feel its presence. I put forth my hands, and feel my way towards it.
My hands touch its cool, dry surface
I wish to be out of my hole
I reach up the rock, as far as I can, and find a place to hold onto
I pull myself up, placing my feet upon the rock as well
Slowly but steadily I climb up my rock
After hours, days, weeks, months, years, I have made it out of the hole
I am free!
Wait, he says, you have forgotten something.
What? I ask, surprised.
What about everyone else in the hole?
I have forgotten them
You have a light, he says. You must share your light with others
He is right. I know he is right.
What about you, I ask.
I’ve done a lot of bad things, he says, shaking his head.
So have I, I tell him. So have I.
He shakes his head again. What I’ve done is bad
There’s no coming back from where I have gone.
That is not true, I say to him. You can always come back.
You just have to believe you can.
He does not believe me, and shakes his head once more
I do not know what to say to help him, but then it comes to me-
I can share my light with him
I then go to my quarters, and retrieve it- one piece of my heart.
Returning to him, I give it to him to keep.
Tears come to his eyes as my light within blazes forth.
As it shines, the light in his heart, the light he never knew he had,
Begins to shine too.
I see, I say quietly, darkness, for I am in a hole,
And have been here for a very long time.
There are others in this hole of mine with me.
I can feel them all around me
And then it comes to me that there is a rock by my side.
I can feel its presence. I put forth my hands, and feel my way towards it.
My hands touch its cool, dry surface
I wish to be out of my hole
I reach up the rock, as far as I can, and find a place to hold onto
I pull myself up, placing my feet upon the rock as well
Slowly but steadily I climb up my rock
After hours, days, weeks, months, years, I have made it out of the hole
I am free!
Wait, he says, you have forgotten something.
What? I ask, surprised.
What about everyone else in the hole?
I have forgotten them
You have a light, he says. You must share your light with others
He is right. I know he is right.
What about you, I ask.
I’ve done a lot of bad things, he says, shaking his head.
So have I, I tell him. So have I.
He shakes his head again. What I’ve done is bad
There’s no coming back from where I have gone.
That is not true, I say to him. You can always come back.
You just have to believe you can.
He does not believe me, and shakes his head once more
I do not know what to say to help him, but then it comes to me-
I can share my light with him
I then go to my quarters, and retrieve it- one piece of my heart.
Returning to him, I give it to him to keep.
Tears come to his eyes as my light within blazes forth.
As it shines, the light in his heart, the light he never knew he had,
Begins to shine too.
Free to Make Mistakes
Free. To Fly. To run. To give.
Free to share. To love. To live.
To be all that I can be.
To see as far as I can see.
To know all that I must know.
Free to grow and grow and grow.
I desire to fly higher.
I desire to run farther.
I desire to give all that I can give.
I desire to share my soul.
To love pure, and good, and whole.
To live a life that saves other lives.
To be a force for good.
Not a model of perfection,
But a model of striving for perfection.
Not someone who doesn’t make mistakes,
But someone who makes many mistakes, and learns from them,
And then makes more mistakes, and learns from them in turn.
Free to share. To love. To live.
To be all that I can be.
To see as far as I can see.
To know all that I must know.
Free to grow and grow and grow.
I desire to fly higher.
I desire to run farther.
I desire to give all that I can give.
I desire to share my soul.
To love pure, and good, and whole.
To live a life that saves other lives.
To be a force for good.
Not a model of perfection,
But a model of striving for perfection.
Not someone who doesn’t make mistakes,
But someone who makes many mistakes, and learns from them,
And then makes more mistakes, and learns from them in turn.
The Dreamer Pt. Three
‘Have you not noticed, Adialon, that your life has been one miracle after another? Have you not noticed that every time you are close to death, something happens to keep you breathing? That every time you are surrounded by the darkness and yet keep going, your life is saved by the light at the last moment? How many times, Adialon?’
‘Innumerable,’ he muttered. ‘Of a truth, innumerable.’
‘Then how can you doubt that God will carry you in this, as he has in times past?’
He shook his head slowly. ‘I do not doubt that God will carry me; I know that he will. It is my strength to endure that I doubt, for I can bear my pain no longer.’
‘Your wounds will heal, Adi,’ she said softly.
‘I speak not of this flesh and bone, but of the spirit within them!’ he cried. ‘It is torn and shredded, bruised and battered; no mortal balm can possibly grant me healing!’
‘And you have used your miraculous bird to carry a message to our Father God? What message did you send Him, Adialon?’
‘I have begged Him to take me Home! To strike me down by His Almighty hand and take me to His bosom!’
‘Oh no, brother! Say not that you have thus tempted God!’
‘It is how I feel! Would you rather that I lied to that Being who knows all? He has commanded us to send our prayers on high, and I shall obey.’
‘We pray in gratitude and humility, brother, we pray that our wills may align with His,’ said Melorelah as she finished bandaging his arm.
‘I can no longer accept His will,’ he said bluntly. ‘I have been pushed beyond what I can endure. I was giving my all, my utmost, to do the tasks that were mine to complete, to give thanks to my Father in Heaven, to share my hard-earned light with others, to be the example to our brothers and sisters in the village. And after all of that, when all I want is to return Home, I am still here.’
‘You are focused, entirely too much, on death, Adi. It is destroying you, slowly and painfully, every moment. Focus on life! For your own sake, focus on life! There is still much you are called to do. Your ending may be soon, but you must find something to live for while you are still here. Your eternal welfare depends upon it!’
Adialon mumbled something.
‘What, Adialon?’
‘I know it,’ he repeated. ‘I am trying to find something to live for.’
‘I think you will find it the more you continue to try,’ she said encouragingly.
Adialon was silent for a moment. When he spoke, she had to draw even nearer to hear his whisper.
‘I may have stumbled upon it.’
‘What have you found?’
Adialon again became silent. Then he turned to her slowly. ‘Do you remember when we were children? Do you remember how the elders would take each of us aside at times and speak with us, about our feelings, our thoughts, our hopes and fears, our dreams?’
‘Yes, I remember that very clearly. It was good for all of us, I think. It helped to connect the younger generations with the older.’
‘Yes, it did. We were taught to be mindful of them, of our thoughts and feelings.’ He paused. ‘The elders were especially interested in our dreams, I remember. At least, they were very intrigued by mine. I remember some of them, mostly the younger set of elders, who were frightened by my dreams and what they might mean, as though they thought they were more than just dreams- visions, if you will. But the remainder were intrigued by them. They would question me for upwards of an hour at a time, having me describe my dreams, sometimes going over the same dream, or one part of a dream, over and over. I did not realize it at the time, but once I started having dreams, people in the village began to treat me differently, somewhat. It was as though they did not know how to act around me.’
‘It is true, Adialon,’ Melorelah sighed. ‘Some of us were frightened, some awed, and some inspired. You helped to shape the course of the entire village.’
‘Were you frightened by me?’
‘No. You were my strong, powerful, indestructible older brother. I was proud of you then. I am more proud of you now, for it takes great strength to share your wounded heart with another, no matter how close.’
Again Adialon looked at her strangely. This time Melorelah caught it.
‘What is it?’
Adialon shook his head. ‘We were speaking of my dreams. I had them less and less as I gave away my Heart of hearts. And on the eve of the day that I gave away the last piece, I had my last dream. I will tell you what I dreamed, if you wish to hear.’
Melorelah nodded.
‘I dreamed that I was in a shimmering fog, like a cloud of light. I was walking through the fog, it seemed an interminable length of time, when I came to the realization that there were others in the fog with me. I could somehow feel them near. After another lengthy period, the light-fog began to gather into human-sized shapes. Soon they began to solidify into real people all round me. As I walked among them, trying to talk with one here, another there, I came to another realization- they could not sense me near. After walking among them for a time- unheard, unseen- I felt someone’s eyes on the back of my head. I turned to look, and there he was, a boy unlike any I had seen. Like many of those among whom I walked, he was dressed very strangely, in a loose, multicolored robe that hung open at the top, and leggings the color of water. But unlike all the others, he looked right at me, and I knew that he could see me, for pure intelligence flowed between us.’
‘Pure intelligence? You could see into his mind?’
‘And he into mine. I felt as though my mind were laid bare before him. Such an experience I have never had.’
‘But who was he? Why were you the only ones to see each other? Why did he look only at you?’
‘The boy may have seen the others who were there; I did not see that far into his mind. And I do not know who he was, except that I felt a kinship with him. But his mind! What an incredible thing it was.’
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
‘Innumerable,’ he muttered. ‘Of a truth, innumerable.’
‘Then how can you doubt that God will carry you in this, as he has in times past?’
He shook his head slowly. ‘I do not doubt that God will carry me; I know that he will. It is my strength to endure that I doubt, for I can bear my pain no longer.’
‘Your wounds will heal, Adi,’ she said softly.
‘I speak not of this flesh and bone, but of the spirit within them!’ he cried. ‘It is torn and shredded, bruised and battered; no mortal balm can possibly grant me healing!’
‘And you have used your miraculous bird to carry a message to our Father God? What message did you send Him, Adialon?’
‘I have begged Him to take me Home! To strike me down by His Almighty hand and take me to His bosom!’
‘Oh no, brother! Say not that you have thus tempted God!’
‘It is how I feel! Would you rather that I lied to that Being who knows all? He has commanded us to send our prayers on high, and I shall obey.’
‘We pray in gratitude and humility, brother, we pray that our wills may align with His,’ said Melorelah as she finished bandaging his arm.
‘I can no longer accept His will,’ he said bluntly. ‘I have been pushed beyond what I can endure. I was giving my all, my utmost, to do the tasks that were mine to complete, to give thanks to my Father in Heaven, to share my hard-earned light with others, to be the example to our brothers and sisters in the village. And after all of that, when all I want is to return Home, I am still here.’
‘You are focused, entirely too much, on death, Adi. It is destroying you, slowly and painfully, every moment. Focus on life! For your own sake, focus on life! There is still much you are called to do. Your ending may be soon, but you must find something to live for while you are still here. Your eternal welfare depends upon it!’
Adialon mumbled something.
‘What, Adialon?’
‘I know it,’ he repeated. ‘I am trying to find something to live for.’
‘I think you will find it the more you continue to try,’ she said encouragingly.
Adialon was silent for a moment. When he spoke, she had to draw even nearer to hear his whisper.
‘I may have stumbled upon it.’
‘What have you found?’
Adialon again became silent. Then he turned to her slowly. ‘Do you remember when we were children? Do you remember how the elders would take each of us aside at times and speak with us, about our feelings, our thoughts, our hopes and fears, our dreams?’
‘Yes, I remember that very clearly. It was good for all of us, I think. It helped to connect the younger generations with the older.’
‘Yes, it did. We were taught to be mindful of them, of our thoughts and feelings.’ He paused. ‘The elders were especially interested in our dreams, I remember. At least, they were very intrigued by mine. I remember some of them, mostly the younger set of elders, who were frightened by my dreams and what they might mean, as though they thought they were more than just dreams- visions, if you will. But the remainder were intrigued by them. They would question me for upwards of an hour at a time, having me describe my dreams, sometimes going over the same dream, or one part of a dream, over and over. I did not realize it at the time, but once I started having dreams, people in the village began to treat me differently, somewhat. It was as though they did not know how to act around me.’
‘It is true, Adialon,’ Melorelah sighed. ‘Some of us were frightened, some awed, and some inspired. You helped to shape the course of the entire village.’
‘Were you frightened by me?’
‘No. You were my strong, powerful, indestructible older brother. I was proud of you then. I am more proud of you now, for it takes great strength to share your wounded heart with another, no matter how close.’
Again Adialon looked at her strangely. This time Melorelah caught it.
‘What is it?’
Adialon shook his head. ‘We were speaking of my dreams. I had them less and less as I gave away my Heart of hearts. And on the eve of the day that I gave away the last piece, I had my last dream. I will tell you what I dreamed, if you wish to hear.’
Melorelah nodded.
‘I dreamed that I was in a shimmering fog, like a cloud of light. I was walking through the fog, it seemed an interminable length of time, when I came to the realization that there were others in the fog with me. I could somehow feel them near. After another lengthy period, the light-fog began to gather into human-sized shapes. Soon they began to solidify into real people all round me. As I walked among them, trying to talk with one here, another there, I came to another realization- they could not sense me near. After walking among them for a time- unheard, unseen- I felt someone’s eyes on the back of my head. I turned to look, and there he was, a boy unlike any I had seen. Like many of those among whom I walked, he was dressed very strangely, in a loose, multicolored robe that hung open at the top, and leggings the color of water. But unlike all the others, he looked right at me, and I knew that he could see me, for pure intelligence flowed between us.’
‘Pure intelligence? You could see into his mind?’
‘And he into mine. I felt as though my mind were laid bare before him. Such an experience I have never had.’
‘But who was he? Why were you the only ones to see each other? Why did he look only at you?’
‘The boy may have seen the others who were there; I did not see that far into his mind. And I do not know who he was, except that I felt a kinship with him. But his mind! What an incredible thing it was.’
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
Monday, September 6, 2010
Why
I sit here thinking on the significance of the life I’ve led.
I wonder what, before I lived, my Savior to me said.
I’m sure he shared the marvelous love he’s always had for me,
And showed me all things that my faith permitted me to see.
He knew I would face trials, troubles, tribulations too.
I have no doubt he told me to be strong, and good, and true.
He knew I’d make mistakes, and yet he wants me to come Home,
No matter that I’d wander far, and in the dark I’d roam.
I’ve reached a point that I have found my desire is the same.
I wish my Savior would my whole soul, in His power, claim.
Though I’m glad I’ve lived upon the earth, and touched hearts not a few,
I desire cleansing fire to make pure my heart anew.
And then I wish to stand before Him, made worthy once more.
I look upon His Face, and know He is the One I did it for.
I wonder what, before I lived, my Savior to me said.
I’m sure he shared the marvelous love he’s always had for me,
And showed me all things that my faith permitted me to see.
He knew I would face trials, troubles, tribulations too.
I have no doubt he told me to be strong, and good, and true.
He knew I’d make mistakes, and yet he wants me to come Home,
No matter that I’d wander far, and in the dark I’d roam.
I’ve reached a point that I have found my desire is the same.
I wish my Savior would my whole soul, in His power, claim.
Though I’m glad I’ve lived upon the earth, and touched hearts not a few,
I desire cleansing fire to make pure my heart anew.
And then I wish to stand before Him, made worthy once more.
I look upon His Face, and know He is the One I did it for.
Re-grip
I again re-grip on the Iron Rod I’d once released.
My angels have held on for me ever since my strength decreased.
I’ve come to know that angels do always me surround
To help me stay close to the marvelous light I once had found.
I have felt that the stakes are high in this war we fight.
It becomes ever harder, for I know the wrong from right.
My angels lend me strength when there is none I can feel
And when I cannot discern between dreams and what is real.
I know not how my life will end or what will come before
But I know what I shall do when I stand at heaven’s door.
I shall knock with all my strength, and if my strength fails then,
I shall wait until my strength returns, and I shall knock again!
My angels have held on for me ever since my strength decreased.
I’ve come to know that angels do always me surround
To help me stay close to the marvelous light I once had found.
I have felt that the stakes are high in this war we fight.
It becomes ever harder, for I know the wrong from right.
My angels lend me strength when there is none I can feel
And when I cannot discern between dreams and what is real.
I know not how my life will end or what will come before
But I know what I shall do when I stand at heaven’s door.
I shall knock with all my strength, and if my strength fails then,
I shall wait until my strength returns, and I shall knock again!
Friday, September 3, 2010
The Dreamer Pt. Two
'It was my Heart of hearts that they were searching for. I therefore did what I had to do- I shattered the priceless jewel, my precious Heart, into a thousand pieces, and gave each piece to a different person.’
‘To whom, Adi?’
‘To those who needed the protection the most,’ Adialon said simply. ‘They hold those pieces to this day. Thus, our people live in peace and are protected from the enemy even now.’
‘But what if the pieces had been discovered? What untold danger would that have placed those of our people who held them in?’
‘They were well hidden. So well hidden, that those who held them were unaware of it- are unaware of it still.’
‘But then, what do you hold in that pouch, if they hold those pieces still?’
‘A Heart of hearts regrows when it has all been given away. With Thrifka’s help, I will give this new heart directly to my Father in Heaven- to my God. It is one piece short of being fully regrown, but I cannot wait any longer.’
‘You will give it all?’
‘All.’
‘But that could very well imply that you will be taken, with your heart, to Him.’
‘That is my hope.’
A piercing shriek rent the air once more as an enormous eagle swooped down to land on Adialon’s leather-clad arm. ‘Loreh, will you help me?’
‘Of course I will help you, Adi. What do I do?’
‘Take the pouch from around my neck, and place it on his.’
‘Will he not bite me?’
‘He is well trained. He will not bite you.’
Melorelah took the pouch’s cord and pulled it over his bowed head, then reached over to place it on Thrifka’s already lowered neck. The bird did not move until Melorelah was done. Then he dipped his beak faster than the human eye could see and caught the pouch’s cord.
‘Fly, Thrifka! Fly home to the God who gave us life!’ The great eagle flapped his mighty wings once, twice, thrice, and then in a blinding flash of white light, was gone.
‘What happens now, Adialon? We wait?’
‘I wait, and you return to our people.’
‘I cannot leave you here, Adialon! Not on this lonely, gray mountain. Not alone, and injured, and depressed.’
‘You must leave me, Loreh. I must approach my Father alone.’
‘At least permit me to bandage this for you!’
‘Eternal healing is the only healing I desire now’-
‘Please, Adialon!’
He sighed. ‘Very well. I would that you work quickly!’
‘So it shall be, my heart.’
Adialon’s eyes grew wide at her words. Melorelah did not see, for she was searching her saddlebags.
As she worked over his wound, she inquired of him, ‘What would it take to make you want to stay? I know that you have experienced incredible things. You have been immersed in the light of God. You have felt angels’ arms carry you through each day. You have been witness to the power of Satan; you have nearly been overcome by it, and yet have been saved at the last moment, by that wonderful light. You have experienced the blackest levels of hell. You have known the eternal joy of heaven. It is heaven that you long for, so much that it hurts you, deep inside. What would it take for you to desire to stay on earth, in a place where both are present? A place where they threaten to tear your soul apart?’
‘I know not,’ said Adialon. Then he sighed. ‘I do know, truly. It would take a miracle.’
She regarded him silently for a long moment.
‘What is it?’ Adialon asked finally.
‘Have you not noticed, Adialon, that your life has been one miracle after another? Have you not noticed that every time you are close to death, something happens to keep you breathing? That every time you are surrounded by the darkness and yet keep going, your life is saved by the light at the last moment? How many times, Adialon?’
‘Innumerable,’ he muttered. ‘Of a truth, innumerable.’
‘Then how can you doubt that God will carry you in this, as he has in times past?’
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
‘To whom, Adi?’
‘To those who needed the protection the most,’ Adialon said simply. ‘They hold those pieces to this day. Thus, our people live in peace and are protected from the enemy even now.’
‘But what if the pieces had been discovered? What untold danger would that have placed those of our people who held them in?’
‘They were well hidden. So well hidden, that those who held them were unaware of it- are unaware of it still.’
‘But then, what do you hold in that pouch, if they hold those pieces still?’
‘A Heart of hearts regrows when it has all been given away. With Thrifka’s help, I will give this new heart directly to my Father in Heaven- to my God. It is one piece short of being fully regrown, but I cannot wait any longer.’
‘You will give it all?’
‘All.’
‘But that could very well imply that you will be taken, with your heart, to Him.’
‘That is my hope.’
A piercing shriek rent the air once more as an enormous eagle swooped down to land on Adialon’s leather-clad arm. ‘Loreh, will you help me?’
‘Of course I will help you, Adi. What do I do?’
‘Take the pouch from around my neck, and place it on his.’
‘Will he not bite me?’
‘He is well trained. He will not bite you.’
Melorelah took the pouch’s cord and pulled it over his bowed head, then reached over to place it on Thrifka’s already lowered neck. The bird did not move until Melorelah was done. Then he dipped his beak faster than the human eye could see and caught the pouch’s cord.
‘Fly, Thrifka! Fly home to the God who gave us life!’ The great eagle flapped his mighty wings once, twice, thrice, and then in a blinding flash of white light, was gone.
‘What happens now, Adialon? We wait?’
‘I wait, and you return to our people.’
‘I cannot leave you here, Adialon! Not on this lonely, gray mountain. Not alone, and injured, and depressed.’
‘You must leave me, Loreh. I must approach my Father alone.’
‘At least permit me to bandage this for you!’
‘Eternal healing is the only healing I desire now’-
‘Please, Adialon!’
He sighed. ‘Very well. I would that you work quickly!’
‘So it shall be, my heart.’
Adialon’s eyes grew wide at her words. Melorelah did not see, for she was searching her saddlebags.
As she worked over his wound, she inquired of him, ‘What would it take to make you want to stay? I know that you have experienced incredible things. You have been immersed in the light of God. You have felt angels’ arms carry you through each day. You have been witness to the power of Satan; you have nearly been overcome by it, and yet have been saved at the last moment, by that wonderful light. You have experienced the blackest levels of hell. You have known the eternal joy of heaven. It is heaven that you long for, so much that it hurts you, deep inside. What would it take for you to desire to stay on earth, in a place where both are present? A place where they threaten to tear your soul apart?’
‘I know not,’ said Adialon. Then he sighed. ‘I do know, truly. It would take a miracle.’
She regarded him silently for a long moment.
‘What is it?’ Adialon asked finally.
‘Have you not noticed, Adialon, that your life has been one miracle after another? Have you not noticed that every time you are close to death, something happens to keep you breathing? That every time you are surrounded by the darkness and yet keep going, your life is saved by the light at the last moment? How many times, Adialon?’
‘Innumerable,’ he muttered. ‘Of a truth, innumerable.’
‘Then how can you doubt that God will carry you in this, as he has in times past?’
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
The Dreamer Pt. One
‘See! I have brought you the leaf blood of a fair fireflower from the mountain of Gnularosh,’ she whispered hurriedly. ‘Drink it, and you will be healed of this dreadful illness, this terrible longing for death!’
Adialon looked upon the flask Melorelah held in her fair hands. His eyes turned to look sorrowfully into hers. ‘It is not for me to drink, Melorelah, but for you. I desire not healing, but an ending and a beginning. The healing is for you.’
Tears began to glisten in Melorelah’s sapphire eyes. ‘Your time is not yet, Adialon! Stay, and help those you still can!’
Adialon’s eyes tightened in sudden agony. ‘Do not speak it! I cannot bear it!’
‘But Adi!’
‘No! I will not return, for I have completed my task and paid dearly for it. It was not enough that I lost my right hand,’ he held up the still throbbing stump, ‘not enough that I must hunger and thirst after my goal, night after night, not enough that every breath brings a shudder from my innards. I am through!’ The tears began to leak from the corners of his eyes. ‘Do you understand, Melorelah? I am through, for I have given all I have to give. There is nothing left.’
Adialon slumped against the boulder in despair. Melorelah took his hands in her own, then drew them up to her tear- streaked face. ‘Dearest brother, dearest heart, I beg of you, do not lose hope!’
‘What hope is left, Loreh? It is gone now. I feel that I am drawing ever closer, day by day, to falling prey to the darkness. It appears attractive to my eyes.’
‘Stay far from it, brother! Come back to the light, and find your joy again!’
‘The light is joy indeed, Loreh, but the darkness is peace. I long for that peace as a bird longs for the sky, or a fish longs for the water.’
‘You must not leave, Adi!’ she cried. ‘What hope is there for us, without you? We need your strong spirit, your quick wit, your goodly heart. We need your song, your wise words, your inner light.’
‘The light is nearly gone’-
‘Then share it! Share it again, as you used to, and it will grow. I know it!’
‘I know it also, Loreh,’ he said softly. ‘I know it also. Would that I did not!’
‘What is it about knowing your greatness, your influence that hurts you inside? Why does it not fill you with your old joy, your old love for life?’
‘Because it is not my joy! Nor is it my love, my influence, or my greatness! It does not belong to me, but to that God whom has given us breath. And it hurts, Loreh, it hurts to feel such burning emotions at every turn, with no reprieve. It is far too much of an incredibly good thing.’
‘What would it take to make you able to bear these things? What would it take to make you want to stay, to live your life among the living?’
‘If I could know- not simply desire, but know- that my time had nearly come, I could bear to stay.’
‘Perhaps it has come; perhaps you are not ready for it, Adialon.’
‘Then woe is me. I desire to leave but am unable to do so, I am born to fly but have clipped my wings. How do I repair them now, Melorelah? How can they be regrown?’ He buried his face in his hands as the tears cascaded down his cheeks.
Melorelah held his shaking form in her arms and wept with him, asking in her heart for some way to help this precious soul…
. . . . . . . . . .
‘Call for your bird, Adialon. Would you not enjoy seeing him again?’
Adialon raised his head slowly. ‘I would like to see Thrifka, yes. There is a message I would have him carry.’
He arose from the ground and drew the thumb and pointer finger of his left hand to the corners of his mouth. Melorelah covered her ears as the piercing shriek rent the air. Twice more he blew his whistling summons, then sat back down upon the rock.
‘Will he hear your call, Adialon? He is likely many leagues away.’
‘He will hear,’ Adialon said softly. ‘He always hears when I call, for he carries a piece of me with him wherever he goes. He will hear.’ As he spoke, an answering shriek from an untold distance reached their ears.
‘It is incredible! How is this possible, Adialon? I knew that eagles have great hearing, but this?’
‘I could have whispered his name from twice the distance and he would have heard and answered my call. As I told you, he carries a piece of me with him.’
Adialon reached into his tunic and pulled out the pouch that hung around his neck, then looked at Melorelah. ‘Do you know what this contains?’
She shook her head, puzzled. ‘How could I? Unless- but you would not’- her jaw dropped. ‘No! Adialon! How could you- how have you-
‘I searched far and wide as I completed my task, Melorelah. I have found all but one of them- the pieces of my broken Heart of hearts.’
‘And what can you possibly intend to do with them?’ she asked, horrified. ‘You know the tales of our people far better than I. You must know the danger that lies in gathering one’s heart when it has been given away, with love, to others. I never knew that you were the one protecting our people from the enemy all these years past. It is true, is it not? It was to protect us that you left, three years ago.’
‘Yes, it was. It was my Heart of hearts that they were searching for. I therefore did what I had to do- I shattered the priceless jewel, my precious Heart, into a thousand pieces, and gave each piece to a different person.’
‘To whom, Adi?’
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
Adialon looked upon the flask Melorelah held in her fair hands. His eyes turned to look sorrowfully into hers. ‘It is not for me to drink, Melorelah, but for you. I desire not healing, but an ending and a beginning. The healing is for you.’
Tears began to glisten in Melorelah’s sapphire eyes. ‘Your time is not yet, Adialon! Stay, and help those you still can!’
Adialon’s eyes tightened in sudden agony. ‘Do not speak it! I cannot bear it!’
‘But Adi!’
‘No! I will not return, for I have completed my task and paid dearly for it. It was not enough that I lost my right hand,’ he held up the still throbbing stump, ‘not enough that I must hunger and thirst after my goal, night after night, not enough that every breath brings a shudder from my innards. I am through!’ The tears began to leak from the corners of his eyes. ‘Do you understand, Melorelah? I am through, for I have given all I have to give. There is nothing left.’
Adialon slumped against the boulder in despair. Melorelah took his hands in her own, then drew them up to her tear- streaked face. ‘Dearest brother, dearest heart, I beg of you, do not lose hope!’
‘What hope is left, Loreh? It is gone now. I feel that I am drawing ever closer, day by day, to falling prey to the darkness. It appears attractive to my eyes.’
‘Stay far from it, brother! Come back to the light, and find your joy again!’
‘The light is joy indeed, Loreh, but the darkness is peace. I long for that peace as a bird longs for the sky, or a fish longs for the water.’
‘You must not leave, Adi!’ she cried. ‘What hope is there for us, without you? We need your strong spirit, your quick wit, your goodly heart. We need your song, your wise words, your inner light.’
‘The light is nearly gone’-
‘Then share it! Share it again, as you used to, and it will grow. I know it!’
‘I know it also, Loreh,’ he said softly. ‘I know it also. Would that I did not!’
‘What is it about knowing your greatness, your influence that hurts you inside? Why does it not fill you with your old joy, your old love for life?’
‘Because it is not my joy! Nor is it my love, my influence, or my greatness! It does not belong to me, but to that God whom has given us breath. And it hurts, Loreh, it hurts to feel such burning emotions at every turn, with no reprieve. It is far too much of an incredibly good thing.’
‘What would it take to make you able to bear these things? What would it take to make you want to stay, to live your life among the living?’
‘If I could know- not simply desire, but know- that my time had nearly come, I could bear to stay.’
‘Perhaps it has come; perhaps you are not ready for it, Adialon.’
‘Then woe is me. I desire to leave but am unable to do so, I am born to fly but have clipped my wings. How do I repair them now, Melorelah? How can they be regrown?’ He buried his face in his hands as the tears cascaded down his cheeks.
Melorelah held his shaking form in her arms and wept with him, asking in her heart for some way to help this precious soul…
. . . . . . . . . .
‘Call for your bird, Adialon. Would you not enjoy seeing him again?’
Adialon raised his head slowly. ‘I would like to see Thrifka, yes. There is a message I would have him carry.’
He arose from the ground and drew the thumb and pointer finger of his left hand to the corners of his mouth. Melorelah covered her ears as the piercing shriek rent the air. Twice more he blew his whistling summons, then sat back down upon the rock.
‘Will he hear your call, Adialon? He is likely many leagues away.’
‘He will hear,’ Adialon said softly. ‘He always hears when I call, for he carries a piece of me with him wherever he goes. He will hear.’ As he spoke, an answering shriek from an untold distance reached their ears.
‘It is incredible! How is this possible, Adialon? I knew that eagles have great hearing, but this?’
‘I could have whispered his name from twice the distance and he would have heard and answered my call. As I told you, he carries a piece of me with him.’
Adialon reached into his tunic and pulled out the pouch that hung around his neck, then looked at Melorelah. ‘Do you know what this contains?’
She shook her head, puzzled. ‘How could I? Unless- but you would not’- her jaw dropped. ‘No! Adialon! How could you- how have you-
‘I searched far and wide as I completed my task, Melorelah. I have found all but one of them- the pieces of my broken Heart of hearts.’
‘And what can you possibly intend to do with them?’ she asked, horrified. ‘You know the tales of our people far better than I. You must know the danger that lies in gathering one’s heart when it has been given away, with love, to others. I never knew that you were the one protecting our people from the enemy all these years past. It is true, is it not? It was to protect us that you left, three years ago.’
‘Yes, it was. It was my Heart of hearts that they were searching for. I therefore did what I had to do- I shattered the priceless jewel, my precious Heart, into a thousand pieces, and gave each piece to a different person.’
‘To whom, Adi?’
© 2010 by Adam Scott Campbell. All rights reserved.
Your Rock
Somewhere hidden, deep below, a monster feeds and grows
On one’s unvoiced feelings that no one has ever seen.
A passing word, a phrase or two, the effects of which no one knows.
But the danger is still lurking, for its host’s life the evil thing means.
One might seem cool, confident, poised and void of doubt.
But like many things, only what is inside matters in the end.
That thing that is inside you will eventually come out.
Then all will see what you really are, and know you’re not a friend.
What can you do then, when your face has been unmasked?
Will you still stand tall as you did once inside your mind?
An evil soul that has been unveiled will never be proud again,
For living a lie will bring what’s coming all in time.
When your love is lost, your joys gone, your ‘friends’ all but dead,
Where will you turn for comfort, where will you look for peace?
What will happen when that crying shoulder removes from under your head?
When you sleep on thorns and cactus instead of warm soft fleece.
A tower of straw will not stand- unless woven tightly together.
So also will you stumble and fall without a helping hand.
You cannot survive a storm of snow, a blizzard of destroying weather,
Unless you build your house on a rock, instead of on the sand.
Choose your company with plenty of thought, choose your company well.
From whom you’ll get your climbing gear- for it may save your life.
Likewise, surround yourself with those things your soul won’t sell.
Use many poles for your soul’s tent to save yourself from strife.
On one’s unvoiced feelings that no one has ever seen.
A passing word, a phrase or two, the effects of which no one knows.
But the danger is still lurking, for its host’s life the evil thing means.
One might seem cool, confident, poised and void of doubt.
But like many things, only what is inside matters in the end.
That thing that is inside you will eventually come out.
Then all will see what you really are, and know you’re not a friend.
What can you do then, when your face has been unmasked?
Will you still stand tall as you did once inside your mind?
An evil soul that has been unveiled will never be proud again,
For living a lie will bring what’s coming all in time.
When your love is lost, your joys gone, your ‘friends’ all but dead,
Where will you turn for comfort, where will you look for peace?
What will happen when that crying shoulder removes from under your head?
When you sleep on thorns and cactus instead of warm soft fleece.
A tower of straw will not stand- unless woven tightly together.
So also will you stumble and fall without a helping hand.
You cannot survive a storm of snow, a blizzard of destroying weather,
Unless you build your house on a rock, instead of on the sand.
Choose your company with plenty of thought, choose your company well.
From whom you’ll get your climbing gear- for it may save your life.
Likewise, surround yourself with those things your soul won’t sell.
Use many poles for your soul’s tent to save yourself from strife.
Invisible Bonds
Some think that those who live in the U.S.
Are free to roam from East to West.
They think in America, there are no more slaves,
But in the economy, slavery still raves.
Each day people have things they buy.
On everything, tax makes the price rise.
Never think a price is what it is.
Our leaders take from a man what was his.
And if you don’t pay tax from the mail,
Our greedy government puts you in jail.
More laws are made to make us obey.
This is why I say we are slaves.
I believe that we must fight back.
Put back in this country what it used to not lack.
Middlemen everywhere triple the cost.
Of everything we buy, so our money is lost.
They call America a republic of choice.
Most are proud of our flag, on their houses they hoist.
Some call it democracy, but I must disagree.
It’s the government that rules, solely.
We need to make it how it used to be,
To truly be the land of the free.
Get rid of the tax, and not even a ‘low rate’.
Then maybe people will lose some of their hate.
This country was founded by means of a war.
A war fought to say that we’d be taxed no more!
What has become of our right to choose
Whether or not we’d pay unjust dues?
Since our Fathers really meant for us to be free,
Then it is OUR choice whether taxed we will be.
Are free to roam from East to West.
They think in America, there are no more slaves,
But in the economy, slavery still raves.
Each day people have things they buy.
On everything, tax makes the price rise.
Never think a price is what it is.
Our leaders take from a man what was his.
And if you don’t pay tax from the mail,
Our greedy government puts you in jail.
More laws are made to make us obey.
This is why I say we are slaves.
I believe that we must fight back.
Put back in this country what it used to not lack.
Middlemen everywhere triple the cost.
Of everything we buy, so our money is lost.
They call America a republic of choice.
Most are proud of our flag, on their houses they hoist.
Some call it democracy, but I must disagree.
It’s the government that rules, solely.
We need to make it how it used to be,
To truly be the land of the free.
Get rid of the tax, and not even a ‘low rate’.
Then maybe people will lose some of their hate.
This country was founded by means of a war.
A war fought to say that we’d be taxed no more!
What has become of our right to choose
Whether or not we’d pay unjust dues?
Since our Fathers really meant for us to be free,
Then it is OUR choice whether taxed we will be.
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