The Oracle, Life’s Affix’s

 

 

In the land of Acirema on the late great planet Htrae in the star system long forgotten to time, but not lost to history, lived The Last Oracle. As he wondered thru out the land, stopping to listen and to answer questions put forth to him from those in passing. He carried no book in which to read or write within; he held no staff in hand in which to upon lean. He wore no sacred garments. His face showed an elegance of youth passed, lines of contemplation mark by his journeys.

 

 Moreover, he held within his essence the wisdom of the ages past, present and future, which carried thru his eyes and words of thoughts. He was no wiser or nobler than any other that stood before him and knew it, where most around him did not. He would not be what many wanted him to be or hoped he was. He held no pride of false hope, and offered a trilogy unlike any of those accessible to humanity before. It was the same message yet few and far in-between saw this relationship between them.

 

On a day of much walking under a lingering sun and longing for rest, to ease his travels, he came upon a rippling pond of deliverance; its icy blue water was border by a thick jade carpeting of neatly manicured growth swaying in the breeze, inviting his presence.

Kneeling under the shade of a mighty oak with hands in fold, he dipped into the pond to taste its enjoyable and much appreciated nectar from its giving temperament. Refreshing his thirst, a feeling of content slipped forward, offering that much-needed rest.

 

Soon others approached him, gathering around him. They gathered on the edge of his present more or less gazing and wondering silently. Was he the one that they had heard the rumors about? Was he there for them, was he sent to them, or was he just a traveler in passing, stopping to rest, wanting the solitude. Waiting for him to finish his drink, their silence was deafening.

 

As he wiped the nectar from his lips now quenched and they asked, “Are you the one that speaks without the written word in your sight? Are you the last oracle, the keeper of truth not accepted that walks alone by choice?” “Yes I am, why do you ask this of me, have you a question to ask of me?”

 

The kind spirit replied,” yes I do, what meaning would you affix’s to your life lived.” The Last Oracle stood gazed in to the eyes of the questioner before him and stated without hesitation. “That’s a simple statement of request you asked of me; I am a planetarium, in a reflection of thought, not religious yet spiritual in its nature.”

 

“I see that in the universe and its vastness of space was there in flows, the energy of a consciousness, of causation and this is my father. I see in the earth with its abundance of life, surging forth as that of an awareness of effects in matter and this is my mother. I see everything in between; being human as either my brother or my sister.

 

I listen to my father, hear my mother and share all their thoughts and recourses with my sisters and brothers. As I take, note to them and pay attention to what they say as well. All humanity on a whole and every individual alone are the stewards of all life and this planet. There is one planet with a limited amount of resources in which to use and abuse, and all nations and its people must choice wisely in doing so.

 

God/s is not dead; god/s was never alive. What were alive, were fears, superstitions and ignorance. Which led to ceremonies, rituals and customs controlling humanities direction, thru factors of pride, a false sense of ancestry? Now their times are ending and they are no more, for now they hinder more than ever.

 

The false pride must die along with the triad of deception. They are now every day becoming more of a force influencing the downfall of all humanity and its destruction as well. This trilogy is no longer humanities expectations, its saviors, but rather its future distrusters and destroyers. There are too many gods on too many sides, if god/s is that diverse, I choose the reverse, and I have none. This is my truth, this is my faith, this is my belief, and most of all and this is my essence of self-being. This is my attachment to life.

 

Have I answered your question or questioned your answer?” Silence fell upon his ears as he walked away towards the next destination in his ongoing journey. Hearing not the minds behind him racing with new-found thoughts from his words, not written before he spoke, he looked back to see. That off away from the others, one spirit was sitting under a tree of thought.

 

With feather, in his hand and not quite in the dark, yet not in the light, he was writing on to the pages worn to shreds beneath his pointed pen. The words were perceived to be proclaimed as truths spoken. That he had heard that day spoken from the hearts beat thru the lips pulse of The Last Oracle. When your consciousness awakes, and you see your mistakes, that is what it takes; those are the stakes at hand.

 

“The Last Oracle wondered with a whisper, “Would my message be lost in its translation, as it has so many times before when written in stone. When will they see what it has written in their soul, printed in their memories, read with the sight of an inner vision, heard with ears turned inward? This is what they carry to translate and inscribe upon, the same as I. The thoughts of truth penned with the ink of reality on to leaves of consciousness to be examined by the soul’s essence.”

 

This was his message, this is what he said, was any of it heard? It mattered not to him, it could not, this, was not his aspirations. Their awakening was not, his lose sleep, and it was theirs. As to when they were ready to perceive its consultation, to wake up from within their being of self, he said not, as he walked away towards the sliding sunset. For he had left them with what they already had within them, the truth of their existence and life’s experience, unfiltered by heritage unjustly imposed.

 

 

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Life's Affix's