From Sun and Moon and all the stars, from glistening seas, high mountains, desert solitudes, and vast, fruitful plains, and from the hearts of mankind, and of creatures everywhere, goes up in wordless yearning, a prayer for redemption:
O Mighty Source of all that is: From sorrow, lead us to everlasting joy;
From darkness, lead us to infinite light;
From death, lead us to immortality!
AUM, Peace, Amen.
A fledgling bird once flew out into the world. “Gain strength and wisdom,” its parents told it, “and what you acquire, share with others, even as we have shared with you. For you are a part of all that is.”
Thus, Lord, we left You countless eons ago. Ours was a holy mission. You charged us to learn great lessons from life: to be fruitful in the gifts You had given us; to expand and multiply them.
Alas, we abandoned our mission. Instead, we hoarded selfishly. Nor did wisdom come to us when, repeatedly, we lost everything we had. For the young bird, in flight for the first time, gloried in its new-found strength. It began to think, “How foolish I would be to share my strength with anyone! What else is wisdom, if not to keep what is mine for myself?”
And so we, like that bird, entered upon the second stage of the soul’s long journey away from its home in God: the stage which is called The Revolt.
That bird’s brief day was like eons of our time. When afternoon came, it entered a storm cloud and soon found itself struggling for its life. Wind and rain lashed at its wings. The more it fought back, the weaker it became.
“Give yourself into my hands!” cried the wind. “To your strength, I can then add my own.” At last, the little bird heeded this counsel. Then, suddenly, it found itself soaring joyously, high above the clouds.
Hours passed, and night fell. The little bird grew afraid. “How,” it cried, “can I fly in this darkness?” And the night whispered, “Fear not. For lo! peace awaits you in the unknown. Surrender to me, and your strength will be renewed.”
And after a time the tiny rebel surrendered and found the night’s counsel true. And rain, and sky, and grassy fields all sang: “Behold, your very strength to fly has never been your own. Look to the source of all power, if you would conquer fear and weakness.”
And the bird asked, “Where can I find that source?” And they answered, “Seek it in the farthest depths of Being, in your own Self.”
