LOOK BOTH WAYS
31
Always another prophet shall arise and bring fresh fever from the skies, the thought slowly came to him, as he grinned—and always another woman shall be awakened to her natural submissive female; the lust and worship of her natural mystic anatomy and human nature. And so she will be saved with all unnatural thinking men she saves to their natural male-hood.
Then he glanced up at the sky and smiled softly.
For of the Father and the Son, the Holy Spirit is the norm, he thought then—but in natural Oneness shall the natural male-female always be quintessential to natural humankind happiness.
He looked about himself, as he walked. Tall sand dunes lined the close horizon either side of his chosen path, where up ahead lay a very old valley steeped in time by high ridges and mountains of lime, older earth and its secrets. He wondered then how he knew the valley was very old. Of all the places he had been, this one felt the most like his home, although nothing, as yet, seemed familiar.
Kings and Queens, young and old slept on, yet undisturbed in the valley of same, he knew, their royal beds unknown and not visited since time immemorial. Then he puzzled, as to how he knew that, but he knew he did.
His gaze roamed the far and near sky and he smiled softly, wondering if it ever rained there. Not a green tree or leaf had he seen. Not a single drop of crystal clear cool water had touched his lips, yet it still felt like home, at least a little more than had the others, although he had no idea why. All he could see was dry desert sand, mountains and ridges, small and large stones, and assorted pieces of scattered broken wood that looked very old.
He paused, squatted down on his haunches and lifted one of the many small pieces of wood in his hands, feeling it with his fingers. It felt comfortable. It felt known. It felt familiar. Then he applied a little pressure with his fingers and it broke, one into even three.
Split a piece of wood, the thought gently came to him; and I am there.
He slowly let the three pieces fall to the ground, knowing that that was where their home was, now. He smiled. But where was his? And what was his name?
He looked both ways, as he rested briefly from his journey and saw the many flat stones of various shapes and sizes that lined the well-trodden pathway. He reached out and picked one up, the size of a plate then balanced it on its edge.
Lift up the stone, he thought; and you will find me there.
He puzzled, as he lowered the almost flat stone gently back to the ground, dropping it the last inch or so. It fell into its original place precisely. He smiled. Perfect. Its fit where its old home had been was absolutely perfect.
He rose slowly to his feet, yet he was not tired. Then he began to walk forward again, always forward. He never looked back, for he had already been there and knew it could offer him nothing. He only looked forward, and only as far as his eyes could see clearly, knowing that beyond that was unknown, and therefore uninteresting, and therefore was any man’s guess, and that any male wouldn’t even bother.
As he wondered he walked, and as he walked he wondered why men and women thought that they needed so much, simply to be happy upon the earth. He knew they were born into their lives with nothing, other than that with which they came, as natural males and females, and with just as natural human natures.
He knew also they should leave the same way, only much more knowledgeable, much more wise, and hopefully, much happier upon leaving for having gotten that which they came for, than they had been when they first arrived.
Then he smiled gently and wondered how he knew all of that. Then his smile softened and saddened, somehow feeling that more often than not, they did not get what they came for, leaving lonely and empty and unhappy than when they had first come.
Suddenly, he slowed in his casual gait. Then he ceased walking completely, his gaze riveted on the near entrance to the valley. He thought he could see a place of plenty and green, of tall trees and blue water and happy people, but then he blinked several times and it was gone, simply because it never was. Still, he had hoped. He was thirsty for its presence in his life right then.
He grinned and began walking slowly forward again, remembering he was only human after all, and that what seemed near was often found far away, and what seemed far away and unreachable was often found nearer to the heart and flesh of bones than the next closest natural feeling.
The ridges steeped high on either side, as he entered the royal foyer. A strange feeling slowly came over him, not familiar or known, but just strange.
He paused and looked both ways, then up at the ridges on either side, and then finally, up at the sky. None looked the same and nothing looked familiar, only known. He walked slowly onward, wondering what that strange feeling had been. It had only been a feeling, not an emotion or a thought, but just a feeling of right that he was going in the right direction, even though he could not justify it with thinking reason or logic or analysing.
He smiled softly, trusting in the processes and flow of his own life, knowing that it flowed like a river under the pull of the final arbiter… gravity, and, even though the direction was not always known, it still ever flowed naturally forward, always under its own momentum of a feeling of right to go this way or that, with no intended injustice toward anything or anyone encountered along the way.
As always, he pondered, a river sought its own natural level, needing no assistance in following its ever-changing path, never straight, but always of least resistance. Anything flowing with the river simply went along and enjoyed the ride, feeling that the river knew where it was going, even if they did not.
Then he smiled sadly; knowing that it was only when the direction of a river was attempted to be influenced that it resisted all efforts of same. And when it felt it was being dammed, only then did it feel the building pressure and directional confusion and finally break its levies, to become scattered and lost, divided and no longer united and flowing free. And only then would its natural momentum of flow cease to be. No more would it and could it go with the flow.
He looked both ways and then at the dry dirt and sand around his feet, knowing it had been a long time since a river of any sort or size had flowed there.
Then he smiled. He did not have to wonder how he knew that. It was a desert and had been for a very long time, not the same one he had been in for thirty years, but one just as dry of humanity. Then suddenly he laughed upon looking down at himself wearing a smart business suit, while walking through the baron wilderness and dry.
Horses for courses and clothes for a reason, he grinned, knowing his life’s clothes always had reasons for its seasons, seasons for its reasons, no matter where he happened to be walking at the time.
He rounded the bend in the valley and suddenly paused again, his eyes staring and focussed at the scene of people and plenty that greeted his weary gaze. Then he smiled, thinking that, as before, after he had blinked the mirage would simply not be there, tricks of the mind.
He grinned as he blinked and opened his eyes, but the vision was still there, real and true. He chuckled, remembering that thoughts convinced the mind to play tricks on the eyes, and that feelings never lied. He was thirsty, but he had never given up hope.
People in long flowing garments gathered around a large spring of water. Some garments were white. Others were black, and all flowed from head to toes, and both unseen.
Trees of tall top leaves and straight trunks guarded the water’s edge, while riding and pack animals of humping shape and form ringed two circular rows on tethers, making noises common to their type.
Eyes only greeted him, as he casually approached them, for that was all of them that could be seen, but then they widened and whitened upon seeing his garb, and glanced quickly and often at each other regarding his difference.
He smiled at them and waved, knowing he was only different, that was all, and knowing also that they did not know that.
They chatted in more volume, as he closely approached them. Some of them chuckled. Some of them laughed. Some scowled and were suspicious of eye, while some of them did nothing, but just watch him closely, simply because of his difference.
It was a camp of eyes, he smiled inside and out, simply because eyes were all he could see. All were covered from crown to ground in silk free flowing, soft and cool. Coloured headbands adorned the silk covering of their foreheads and faces, but not their eyes… not their eyes.
‘Hello!’ One said excitedly in a language he did not know, but he understood their meaning as he came to a halt before them, then wondered how he could.
‘Hello!’ He greeted them back, and just as enthusiastically, amazed at the strange feelings in his throat and the sound of his voice as he spoke. Then one who had not greeted him came forth and approached; his eyes not smiling and not enthusiastic to make his acquaintance.
‘What do you want?’ He heard and he understood, as the man stood with his hands on his hips.
‘Water and friendship and company fine,’ he answered with a smile and was heard.
‘What else?’ The tall man demanded to know.
‘Of knowledge of where my home is and what is my name,’ came his reply that the man sensed was truth. But his eyes widened, nevertheless.
Another, but of smaller frame and height then came to stand beside the man who had questioned, but did not place their hands on hips, and their eyes were not hard, but soft of the feminine kind, yet she said nothing, only watched, unblinking.
He smiled at her and then again at the man, as the two of them looked him up and down again. They glanced quickly at each other, then back at him, and again searched the difference of his clothes with the only part of their bodies he could see. And again they looked at one another and one shook their head.
It was the man, but his suspicion had not disappeared from his gaze.
They gathered around him then, from in front and around all sides. Some eyes were soft; some were hard, while some were simply curious.
‘Where have you come from?’ Said one who had not spoken.
‘Back there,’ he pointed behind his shoulder and grinned.
‘Where are you going?’ Said another new voice.
‘Home,’ he grinned quietly.
‘Where’s that?’ Asked the proud man with his hands on his hips.
Good question, he smiled inside and out, hoping upon hope that it wasn’t far, but all he did was shrug his shoulders and smile. Some looked at him strangely, while others shook their heads and looked at one another.
He sighed, and smiled tiredly, knowing he could not hold them in contempt for something they just did not know, just as he did not know his own name or where his home was, and could never hold himself in that way, always.
‘Aren’t you hot?’ Sounded a new voice, not with suspicion or laughter, but with concern.
‘Yes,’ he replied honestly, while the one beside him just softened her eyes as she looked.
‘Would you like water and food and rest with us a while?’
‘Yes,’ he answered gratefully, and the one’s eyes beside him softened even more so.
Then the greeting party broke up and all went about their business. He followed the one with the helping hand heart and sat with him, while the soft eyes fetched him a bowl and some food.
The water tasted like purity in the spirit it had been offered, while the food settled quickly in his belly in gratitude and contentment. Two more soft eyes then joined and stood with the other, chatting softly, and giggling, but they lowered their eyes when he looked. Then they left he and the man and began to pack up to leave.
‘There is desert out there,’ the man said to him in a knowing voice of experience gained the hard way.
‘Yes,’ he answered, drinking more water, knowing there was desert everywhere and anywhere he seemed to end up these days, and that he could be alone, completely alone, in a crowded room, or even in a large double bed. Then he puzzled and wondered why he had thought that.
Then the first soft eyes brought him more food in a wooden bowl polished from ancient use. He smiled and took it from her, as she handed it down to him. Her eyes were dark and they were deep, and he smiled up into them with sincere gratitude. Then she went away.
The man sitting beside him looked strangely at him for a few moments, before returning to eating his food.
‘Your home could be a long way,’ the man said quietly and wisely.
‘Yes,’ he knew it could be true, but the water tasted great.
‘Or, it could be only a short way,’ the man then stated optimistically.
‘Yes.’ One could always hope, he thought, as he looked at his dusty shoes and wondered musing how long they would last walking on stones and in fine sand.
‘Or, it could be right here,’ the man said with a quiet smile in his voice. Then added, ‘in the wood of the trees, or beneath the stones on the ground. Stranger places have been called home to those without one.’
He smiled and nodded and then ate some more of the meat of those he had seen tethered. Then he wondered how he knew that, but it tasted good anyway, so he did not bother pursuing the thought, knowing he certainly qualified as one of those without roots at the moment, and without a name as well.
He drank some more water when eyes of soft feeling returned and handed him the leather-bound drinking satchel. He filled his dish and handed it back to her, then watched closely, as she took it from him, with her eyes deepening. Then she lowered her gaze from his and looked down at the ground. Then she turned away and left again.
‘You are widowed?’ The man then asked reverently.
He looked up from his food bowl and glanced at the man, whose gaze was on the white band of his finger. He smiled and returned to his food.
‘No,’ he said smiling, although he did not know why he was smiling and ate more dried meat. It tasted good, but dry.
‘You are married?’ The man then asked quietly, as he poured more water into his own dish when offered by the soft eyes of the one who materialised from nowhere to stand beside him and to his left. Then she left, but not without glancing quickly at him before doing so. This time it was he who glanced idly at the white band on his finger, while he ate.
‘No,’ he answered quietly and with a smile. At least, he didn’t think he was. He certainly did not feel he was. He knew that much, at least. Then he wondered how he knew that much. The meat was dry. It was certainly dry meat and went well with the arid surroundings. But it seemed moistened somehow, with the spirit of company in truth in which it had been given.
‘Are you betrothed?’ The man then asked, as he, too, struggled in tearing a piece of the same dry meat apart with his strong white teeth. He succeeded and began to chew forcefully.
He grinned softly. Some things were hard to chew on, he thought amused, while others were still hard to swallow. But at least it was food where there had been none and he was grateful.
‘No,’ he answered, then chewed just as forcefully on his own piece of dry meat, smiling as he realised that every drop of saliva had willingly deserted his mouth.
Then the soft eyes of the one who had served them both returned and began collecting the eating utensils. She was tall and flowed white robes from head to toe, with a yellow band around the white cloth covering of her forehead. But her eyes were alive with life. He had seen them. She had seen him see them and knew he had, and, he knew she knew he had.
She was perfect, he smiled inside, absolutely perfect. He suspected then also that his host and benefactor sitting beside him knew exactly the same thing. Suddenly the man stood to his feet, throwing the remains of the dry meat into the sand. He yelled orders to the others, then turned to face him square on. His eyes were soft and hard at the same time. The man did not blink.
‘You should be,’ he said. Then he turned and approached the nearest humping shape and form, which rested settled on its knees.
The man climbed into the wooden seat and sat down heavily, then took hold of the rope around the animal’s neck. It grunted irritably when the man’s feet kicked it finally into a standing position, first with the hind feet, and then with the front, like a seesaw, and looking not too stable when it accomplished that.
He could see all others doing the same thing and moving off, while his host before him just sat astride the spindly beast and looked carefully down at him. His flock on their own spindly-legged animals began to gather around him. His group seemed to be the last to leave. He looked both ways, and then all around him.
All of the others had gone. He smiled up at the man sincerely, then continued chewing on the meat. It was very, very dry. The man grinned at his mouthing efforts.
‘A man alone has no home,’ the man then quietly said down to him, as if revealing a long-known secret, which he was passing on in reverence and absolute trust.
Tell me about it, he thought, amused at his own situation and plight to discover where it was and what his name was.
‘With a woman a home can be made anywhere,’ the man then quietly said, as if giving him the secret to the universe to carry to the grave with him.
He nodded, agreeing with the man, but only if the woman was a natural gender-dominant, feeling female.
‘Maybe you can’t see your home by looking where you are pointing,’ the man then said with a grin and a grunt, as his untrusting steed shied suddenly beneath him. He quickly reined it in and then clipped hard it on the neck, forcefully with his open hand. The beast settled.
He looked up at the animal, then at the man atop it. Then he nodded and smiled, drinking the last of his water from the dish. It tasted good after the dry meat.
‘Because you are looking where you are pointed,’ the man added, now that the beast had been tamed. Then he turned it by yanking on the rope and kicking it furiously until finally it obliged and moved away. The man waved, then led his group away.
Quite a wandering philosopher, he thought warmly, as he watched them slowly fade into the distance of the valley of royalty and then disappear around a bend in the path. It was a slow fade, but he had nothing better to do than to watch.
He had dry meat and he had fresh water. They had left him blankets and different clothes of the type they had been wearing. He smiled as he glanced down at his suit. He had often wondered how long it would last, not to mention his shoes.
Yes, he smiled softly at his fate, or his destiny. He could never quiet figure out which to name it, as it happened unplanned around him in the present moments of now. His needs seemed to be taken care of. His wants were still left wanting, such as where his home was and what his name was, but his needs were fine where he was, exactly where he was, almost.
Don’t look where the finger points, he thought, as he tried to recall the man’s exact words to him; or you’ll miss the heavenly glory that is happening around you. Then he chuckled in good humour, knowing that that was not quite what the man had said, but it was what he had meant.
He sighed, knowing that it did not matter who said the words, or the type of words, or even who thought up the words or their shape or size. What really mattered, he knew, was whether the intent of the words held any real value to the intended receiver’s life and times and future happiness.
Then he thought once more about fingers and where they were pointed, and white wedding bands of what once was and now was not, knowing that what could have been, is not what should have been, and that what might have been, is what was not, which left him with only the here and the now to find his home and what his name was.
He looked both ways and then ahead of him, where he pointed, knowing there was nothing and no one behind him that could offer anything toward his life and happiness, or where his home was, or what his name was.
Mountains to either side, nothing behind him and nothing, but seemingly dry and endless desert in front of him… dry, dry desert.
He had been there and done that and knew it was time to move on.
‘More meat, Sir?’ came a voice suddenly from behind him.
He turned, startled, and then he smiled and relaxed, as the one with the soft eyes, through the graciousness of his host long gone, smiled back at him with her gaze alone.
She was perfect, absolutely perfect. He knew that. He knew she knew it, too. And, he knew she knew he knew she knew that. Then he looked about himself, at the green trees, at the cool clear water, at the bags of food she had by her feet, and at the spindle-legged beast that stood packed heavy with her belongings and remained quiet behind her. While she stood just as still, her female eyes only visible and smiling his own thoughts back to him.
He shook his head, wondering where his home was, as he looked at the cool water and the tall green palm trees of his existence of the moment. He smiled back at her and glanced down at the ground, at the rocks there, and at the pieces of ancient wood scattered about his oasis in the middle of his desert.
Split a piece of wood, he recalled, knowing; I am there. Lift up a stone and you will find me there.
‘Welcome home!’ she said crying and held out her fine hand, slipping a gold ring back on his wedding finger. Then she offered her hand for him to take, while her eyes smouldered pure female and glistened for him.
His own moist gaze then smiled back, and he stirred physically, as he reached out and held her hand in his, exactly the way he wanted to, exactly the way she wanted him to. He was humbled and amazed and astounded at the heart and the subtle wisdom of his host and benefactor long gone… simply astounded.
He smiled widely then, as he felt one single pair of tears leave his eyes and roll down his cheeks as a team. He squeezed her strong hand in his own, feeling her squeeze him back, and just as strongly, knowing he had finally found his home… and, that He was it.
Then he grinned. Now all he needed was a name.
She squeezed his hand again, only stronger this time. He met her grip with equal and necessary force only and smiled deeply, as his amazement for all things and all people grew by the second.
He was astounded and amazed, amazed and astounded, while she squeezed a third time, but this time, she seriously meant it.
I have come to start a fire, he thought, as he just stood there holding her warm hand; and I will guard it until it rages.
He hugged her lovingly and personally in their initial introduction, still amazed and astounded. He stirred physically and he stirred strongly against her silken mound, feeling her female body respond.
Perfect, he thought, as he pressed her there, exactly the way she was pressing him, absolutely perfect.
‘Oh, God!’ she moaned, as she hugged him fiercely to her shapely silken familiar form. ‘I’ve missed you! It’s so good to have you home!’
One tear followed the other, but he still smiled. Then he looked, both ways, into the future and into the past, and then back into the now, and then he kissed her, exactly the way he wanted to.
Finally, he released her to hold her at arm’s length and admire the gasping feminine and natural female fire in her eyes that existed, solely for him. That blazing fire told him that she now knew the ultimate truth of him, as a male, that all he needed to be a male for her was to simply be needed as one in the first place.
She was perfect, he thought, absolutely perfect.
‘Where have you been for forty years and as many nights?’ she asked him with glistening eyes and a pounding heart to match his own racing.
‘Oh… just wandering, around,’ he said, smiling shyly, and happy to be home again in the desert, but not alone. Then he kissed her again, hard, exactly the way she wanted him to.
‘Oh, Jesus!’ she groaned beneath his lips and mouth.
He smiled inwardly and drowned in her kiss, knowing all he needed now… was a name.
‘Are you home to stay?’ she asked.
His hard crushing kiss was his answer.
‘Oh, Jesus!’ she moaned again, as he breathed her sweet and humid breath into his lower male belly.
Then suddenly, for just a brief moment, he felt as if time had stopped and stood still. The past, the future and the present became one, as it always had been. So easy to change, but so time-consuming, he thought amused. And then he smiled, happy and for that moment of the now, completed.
Yep, he thought and smiled, pressing her intimately and feeling the natural heat of her urgent mound flood into his loins—all he needed now was a name.