Ad Infinitum Book One Master of the Nine Steps Read online

PART THREE

  The light beamed forth

  To touch my world

  Surging

  Impulses

  The key of consciousness

  Unlocked the door

  Opening

  The light penetrated

  My eyelids fluttered

  "*You are awake*"

  A voice said softly

  "*Good*"

  "I have had

  A strange dream"

  I said

  As I touched my side

  I felt for the wound

  But

  It was not there

  "My dream was of savages

  And their rituals

  Ceremony

  Spears

  And my blood"

  I looked up

  At her as she kneeled

  Beside me

  "It must have been

  The heat"

  I said

  As I stood up

  She said nothing

  She stood

  Beside me

  And

  Took my hand

  And I,

  With the other,

  Stretched it out

  Toward the many paths

  In question

  My hand swept the horizon

  "How did you get here?"

  I asked

  "And

  How will we leave?"

  As the sweeping hand

  Turned my body

  I saw behind—

  A pole

  "*Let us go

  This way*"

  She said

  Pointing to her right

  There seemed to be

  Fresh stains on it

  "My world still suffers

  From the heat"

  I said to myself

  I turned back

  And holding her hand

  We moved off

  In the direction

  She indicated

  "I must have been delirious"

  I thought

  As we walked along

  "Hallucination,

  Closing off consciousness

  To the reality of my world

  Still—

  It has done no harm

  For I feel

  Energetic"

  No longer the stumbling

  The dragging

  The falling

  "Yes,

  The restoration

  Of rest"

  The lady singled

  A path

  From the crossing of paths

  One to lead us

  from the maze

  Time passed quickly

  No longer the mental hindrance

  Of slowing feet

  And heavy breathing,

  Sweat dripping

  Companionship

  Several hours

  Gone

  And the paths

  Thinned out,

  Only a few

  Crossing

  The plains began to roll

  The wheat waved hello again

  The sky was a darker blue

  And rode upon the shoulders

  Of white fluffy clouds

  A bubbling stream gurgled

  Following below

  Following the path

  Little animals peered

  From their homes

  And sailing birds

  Wheeled upon the sky

  Walking along

  And the white white silk

  Never soiling

  But always light and joying

  Fluttering slight

  Making silent noises

  Louder than her words

  Days upon

  And I thought she would never speak

  But then one morning

  As the sun rose

  And shattered the darkness on the mountain

  To the left

  And as the birds

  Began the morning note

  And life emerged

  From sleeping hideaways

  She began to talk

  A steady voice

  Slow with patience

  "*For many days

  I have traveled

  The mountains

  The plains

  The paths

  And again the plains

  The jungles

  To the fringe

  I left my mountain nation

  Where my people live on top of the world

  Though sometimes in the deepest valleys

  And though my trip was a long time planned

  I left with a heavy heart—*"

  She paused momentarily

  As we crossed

  A rippling stream

  "*A short time before I left,

  Evil plotters rose up

  And now my father is dead

  A great man has died

  He was a ruler

  He ruled strength and power

  He ruled with wisdom

  Ruling love and compassion

  He ruled men and women

  And had a control

  In love

  Over all living beings in his nation

  The morning I left

  The nation mourned his death;

  And though I am with

  The infinite mode

  Still

  I am a relative consciousness

  Unable

  At times

  To bring forth the happiness of the day—

  A conflict,

  A paradox of existence

  Accompanied my journey

  And when

  I met you

  Upon the fringe

  Still

  I was in conflict;

  Inner thought,

  Cloaked by silence,

  Was my strongest weapon*"

  She smiled

  And I

  Replied with silence

  But finally

  The ostensible

  I said

  "I'm sorry about your father,

  And I know

  For him - the scales are balanced,

  And for those who did the deed—

  The scales shall be balanced;

  Still

  I understand not

  Why you made the journey

  To the fringe?"

  "*Simply,*" she answered,

  "*I followed the plan

  Of a dream

  Sound foolish?

  No-

  They are messages

  From the other side,

  And

  I know

  When they must be

  Fulfilled

  And it is

  Mostly

  They come from

  A high source

  Of knowledge—

  So,

  I planned,

  I journeyed

  And you came,

  Even

  As I knew

  You would

  But I traveled

  With a heavy heart*"

  She paused

  Once again

  With a longing Look

  But only

  For a short time

  And then she spoke

  Of other things

  Light and cheer

  Words gracing life

  And boasting happiness—

  I could tell

  She knew the meaning of today that day

  And hand in hand

  We continued on

  The winding path

  The wind blew

  And dark clouds rolled

  Thundering skies

  In light and dark

  And as we traveled the path

  In storm

  Upon

  The night came

  And there was lightening

  Bright lightening

  Shaking the dark

  And waking the night

  "Dawn

  Rising dawn

  Breaking the way

  And comes the day<
br />
  Oh sunshine

  Oh rain

  Oh fog—

  Lifting blanket from the grass

  Shine shine sunshine

  How beautiful your rays

  This day

  Your day

  Today

  Path path

  Walking path

  To the meadows

  Of running grass"

  Our feet met the meadows

  Of grass

  Green grass

  Roaming

  Meadows of life

  Grass and flowers

  Flowers flowers

  Colors all"

  How beautiful were the coloring fields

  Crossing streams

  Feet

  Bare feet

  Love of life

  Scenting flowers

  And joy beneath the weeping willow

  "*To love happiness

  For all

  Is true love*"

  We laughed

  And talked of life,

  Later

  She sang a song

  And we enjoyed the present

  For what it was

  That day

  We continued on

  And—

  A sparse barrage of trees

  Shot up

  Surrounding us

  The meadows met the mountains

  And the mountains were at our front

  While the meadows flanked us

  Beginning a fringe

  Speaking of many topics

  She spoke of war

  And I agreed

  With her opinion:

  "*War is a useful means

  Of experience (of gaining knowledge)—

  The truth of sadness

  And loss of those you love

  Yes,

  Useful for the savage,

  The wild man, or the beast

  All climbing the chain

  (Climbing for perfection);

  But for the cultured,

  Knowledged man

  War is useless

  And serves only

  The ego of governments

  Or the false beliefs of religion,

  And not the man

  "*Yes

  Cultured man too

  Is climbing the chain

  But by the time he is cultured

  And sophisticated in mind

  His need for the knowledge of war should have been fulfilled*"

  As we furthered our journey

  The path began to climb

  The air was crisp

  And smelled of pine

  Little animals

  Wary

  Watched the travelers;

  Myself

  And the lady in white—

  Graceful and smooth and patient

  Walking

  Talking

  She spoke of events

  To come

  And the past

  "*I remember a poem

  Which once

  I read:

  I am the present I live for now

  Live with me and I'll show your how

  Live not with the past, a moment ago

  A week, a year, a century or so

  Live not with the future of future days

  For the future is a means of many ways

  Here then

  Is a factor for happiness:

  Learn from the past

  Plan for the future

  And live with them both for the present*"

  "Maybe,"

  I said

  As I pondered

  Her words

  "But I never stop

  Thinking

  Of the day

  When I shall find the sun"

  "*It is good

  Keep your ambition

  And your goal

  But do not live in the future—

  Becoming too involved

  Will destroy

  A strong will*"

  I said nothing

  And thought

  To think later

  On what she had said

  Ahead—

  Gurgling over rocks

  A mountain stream

  And just below—

  A pond

  We approached

  Hand in hand

  And looking at me

  She said

  "*Tell me

  Of you*"

  We sat down

  Beside the stream

  Resting

  Eating pine nuts

  Living

  Breathing the fresh pine-scented air

  And watching the fish swim

  "Even as you—

  I am

  And have been forever

  Simply,

  Still I am

  And will be forever

  I have always traveled the infinite cycle

  And always will

  Finding and losing my sun

  Searching sometimes

  Without knowing for what;

  "I have had infinite experiences

  Still I expect

  And find new ones

  An infinite more

  For this is the way of life

  "And now

  Again

  I am searching for the sun

  "Perhaps

  You can help

  But

  You must not speak in riddles

  Like the voice of Ad Infinitum"

  "*The voice of Ad Infinitum*"

  She said thoughtfully

  She paused—

  "*I will help

  If I can*"

  She finally said

  "*But being curious

  Tell me of this voice*"

  "The voice

  Yes

  The voice of mystery

  That none can hear

  But me,

  Speaking in parables

  Of multifaceted

  Interpretation

  "It has been with me

  From the beginning of the darkest age—

  A small light,

  But too small"

  She pondered a moment

  My words

  "*Then

  It is your voice

  Because it speaks only to you,*"

  She said

  "*And therefore

  Can come only

  From the inner existence

  "*It rises from the depths

  Of your soul

  It comes from the very flame,

  Yes,

  It comes from the center,

  From the very source

  Of your being

  "*It comes from the spark

  That gives every soul

  Its life

  "*It comes from the infinite force,

  Creating

  Relating

  Striving to be heard

  By the soul's ear

  Of every man

  Yet,

  So few

  Can receive*"

  She paused a moment,

  A twinkle in her eye

  "*Dear sir*"

  She said

  "*I think

  You are closer

  To your goal

  Than you know,

  For

  What you describe

  Can only be—

  The voice

  Of infinite wisdom*"

  "Why then the mystery?"

  I asked

  "Why the puzzles?—

  Why so taunting?"

  Again

  She took

  My hand,

  "*The voice

  You hear*"

  She said,

  "*Comes to you

  Upon the path

  Of a thousand lifetimes,

  Filtered with mystery,

  But

  Trying to teach*"

  "Perhaps you are right"

  I said

  "But the riddles are still

  Of no help"

  Swirling a
bout our toes

  The water forged its way

  Down the mountain

  We sat silent

  Again

  Watching Nature

  And each other

  I leaned back

  Upon the grass

  Inflated cream puffs

  The clouds

  Passed lowly

  Slowly

  And others

  Very high

  Above

  In the blue sky

  Life stirred

  The day was pleasant

  And the water swirled

  "*Crystal clear water

  Running the stream

  The fish

  The frog

  The snake

  Running the beaver

  The deer

  The elk

  The moose

  Running the brook

  The pond

  The river

  The ocean

  Clear clear water

  Running the clouds within the sky

  Crystal clear water

  Running the stream

  Running man

  Summing the energies

  Focusing the mind—

  The step between,

  Magnification

  And the sun rises*"

  We splashed the water

  Bathing so cool

  And playing beads

  Tickling trickling

  Back again

  Back

  Falling

  Fell

  Again to be splashed

  Ripples moved

  Upon the washboard pond

  Bounding rebounding

  Back again back

  Trees and logs

  Sticks and twigs

  Mud

  Beautiful mud

  Dam Dam

  Beaver dam beaver

  Beaver built

  Majestically built

  Splashing joyously

  We splashed

  Heaving

  Happiness tears of the world

  We rose

  And crossed the stream

  We bounded on

  We laughed the pure laughter

  We talked

  We sang the song

  We walked on

  Into the day - that day

  We passed trees and boulders

  Little homes of little animals

  Blue jays with cocked black hats

  Flew

  From tree to tree

  For the joy of food

  Steep

  Then level

  The path

  Tracking many tracks

  Gladly we tracked

  Hand in hand

  Arm in arm

  Now together

  Now separate

  But always bound

  We traveled on

  Distancing

  The desert away

  Closer

  To her home

  We came

  "You spoke of enforcing a goal"

  I said,

  As the path

  Rounding a bend

  Overlooked a forest meadow

  (I was thinking

  Of a previous

  Conversation)

  "*Yes

  I must travel

  To the coastal cities

  And there attempt to bring wisdom

  To the cultured savage—

  This goal must be done

  Before I travel on*"

  As she spoke of the coastal cities

  I noticed above

  High above

  In the sky

  A huge black bird

  Circling

  long

  and

  slow

  He stooped to a dive

  And swooping

  Swooped low

  Then up again he flew

  His beak shone

  And so his feathers

  As

  Of a hole in space

  "I wish my goal

  Could be

  So simple," I said

  Stooping

  He swooped again

  Coming closer

  "*Perhaps someday

  It shall,*" she answered

  The bird

  Flew higher

  In the sky

  Became a black dot

  And disappeared

  We continued on

  Through the forest

  And eventually

  Becoming narrower

  The path stole its way

  Away

  Through a darkened woods

  Crowding pines

  Crowded out light

  But now and then

  The light broke through,

  Beaming upon the path

  Magnifying

  Reflecting particles of dust

  Many times

  The light beamed upon

  A dead or dying tree

  Lying

  Across the path

  While others

  Crowded in

  To take its place

  The turning twisting winding

  Narrowing widening

  Darkened and beamed upon path

  Found its way

  Through the living forest

  Once in a while

  We crossed

  Through mountain meadows

  (The spatial miracle of the mountains)

  Where trees refuse to grow or crowd

  And continually refreshing

  Were streams and ponds

  Clear mountain water

  A sparkling force

  Along the way

  As we traveled

  The path

  The numbering days

  Multiplied

  Becoming weeks

  Upon

  And then one day

  As the dawn broke

  And coloring light

  Fell

  Upon lofty peaks and ranging woods;

  While rounding a bend

  Deep in the forest

  And

  High in the mountains

  We came upon her village

  Lying below

  In a huge mountain valley

  Unheeding the teeming life below,

  Smoke spiraled forth from chimneys

  Up up

  It dissipated

  And disappeared

  Dogs barked

  And children played

  Men and women were not to be seen;

  Not quite ready for the coming day

  The streets of mountain earth

  Were puddled with water

  Of a recent rain

  The homes were cabins

  Made of logs

  (Some of planks)

  Some were painted

  But most

  Not

  They stood

  Like forest mansions—

  Firm

  In the valley

  Brisk

  Upon their mountain foundations

  Waiting only

  For the fall of time

  Seeing the village

  She quickened her pace

  A little

  The path

  Sloping

  Turned the bend a little more

  And began the descent

  Winding

  Toward the village

  As we approached

  She took my hand in hers

  And with the other

  Palm up and extending

  She motioned the valley and the village

  "*This is one

  Of the many

  Of the mountain empire*"

  She smiled

  And kept a steady pace

  Her being

  Vibrated cheeriness

  As we entered the village

  People

  Came forth

  From their homes

  Introductions handshaking and storytelling

  Renewing of friendships


  Made up

  The entire day

  Most of the people

  Were glad

  For her return

  Even

  A few tears were shed

  For the occasion

  The day progressed

  From home to home

  And twittering talk

  And finally

  With the twilight—

  Shaded colors

  Orange

  And rose

  Reflecting clouds

  Mirrors

  In the sky

  Illuminating

  The trees

  In varying shades

  Of the twilight

  The day

  Passing from sight

  And slowly came the darkness

  The dusk fell

  And the night cracked open

  Stars twinkling

  Pinholes in the night

  And the moon lit its light,

  The dance hall opened

  And a mountain party

  Was given

  To welcome her home

  Dancing and singing

  Took place

  And

  Merriment

  Decorated the hall

  While

  Fiddles

  Sang their tune

  To the mountain night

  Old men gathered

  In the corners

  And tales of old were told

  The party lasted

  On and on

  Til the coming of dawn

  And then

  As the sun

  Rose

  Beaming its colored rays

  Into the valley

  Slowly

  The celebrating ended

  And the people

  Trundled home

  On carts and rolling stones

  Having said 'farewells'

  To all the people

  We set out

  Upon the path

  Traveling toward her house

  Which was set in the side of the mountain

  Overlooking the village

  Talking leisurely

  As we walked

  Upon the brown path

  And breathing in

  The brisk mountain air

  The moon was setting

  To the far end of the valley

  And an owl was hooting

  In the distant forest

  "*My home is unlike

  The others,*" she said,

  "*It is made of marble

  And things*"

  And indeed

  It was

  Upon arriving

  It stood before us

  A stately home,

  Marble pillars and walls

  A marble balcony

  Overlooking a fountain

  Overlooking a long yard

  Overlooking the village

  An old man upon a huge marble porch

  Taking my hand

  She took me forth

  Away from the house

  Across the yard

  Across a small garden

  There

  Beneath a huge oak tree

  Was the grave

  Of her father

  It was very splendidly set—

  Amidst the flowers and grass

  And green trees around

  A simple headstone

  With nothing

  But his name

  Beside the grave

  Stood a statue,

  Impressive statue

  Of a man searching

  Watching

  Waiting—

  Silent in bronze

  And in his hand he held a plaque

  To cite

  The words

  Of the epitaph:

  I, the people of his empire, of the world, dedicate

  this plaque to a very great man; who left me too soon.

  THE DEMISE

  To be a great man you must know hell as well as heaven. You must know the sorrows as well as the joys of the people. You must be able to rise up and look down into the core of their mighty world to seek out and assuage their problems. To be a great man you must let wisdom guide your thoughts; guide them into manifestation. I look. So often I look and yet no longer do I see the greatest man in the world. Look closer. I look closer. I scrutinize. I peruse the pages of the world. "Where is he?" I cry. Then mournfully I conclude that no longer shall I read his great lines of wisdom.

  Yesterday might be yesterday. Yesterday might be a week ago, a year ago, or it might be a hundred generations ago. Yesterday might know infinity. Yesterday might be

  tomorrow, and tomorrow is tomorrow; and this is why; yesterday and tomorrow, all the fates (thoughts) of the world combined and rose up to take from the sight of all the greatest man in the world.

  Oh God! I cry for this man. I weep for his love. I mourn his death. He was not just a man. He was not just a president. Yesterday he was the greatest man on Earth.

  The statue stood hard and cold

  With its hard cold message

  For the world

  To read

  Again

  I read it

  And saying nothing

  We turned

  And crossed to the house

  The old man sat hunched

  In a rocking chair

  Smoking a pipe

  So serenely

  Man old man

  Upon the porch

  Her father's brother,

  Friend

  "Greetings

  To you

  Sir

  I am

  From the desert

  And still

  It is

  And I have a few grains

  Upon my shoes"

  Talking

  Communicating ideas

  On different subjects

  But mostly

  Of the man since gone

  The old man,

  It seemed

  Always turned the subject

  Until

  Again

  He was discussing his brother-

  The lady's father

  He was bitter

  Discouraged

  Resentful

  That his brother had been taken

  From life

  Within the world

  Yet,

  I thought

  The old man dwelled

  Too much

  On the life past

  "Build

  On your brother's foundation

  For the future"

  I thought

  Without intentions

  Of saying it

  Perhaps

  The death

  Was too recent

  But

  Whatever the reason

  It was not

  The time for me

  To try

  To change his ways

  Finally

  We finished

  Our talk

  And rising

  The lady and I

  Entered the house

  Within

  Were colors

  In mingling

  Standing time

  Curves

  Designs upon

  Lines new and old

  Rising

  Fabrics on fabrics

  And rolling cloth

  Wood on wood

  Wood met metal

  Schemes and patterns

  Arrangements timed

  How slow the world

  Sparkling

  Glass and crystal

  Mirrors

  On the wall

  Colors of gold

  Soft soft light

  Room and room

  Again

  Style of splendor

  To make styling shine

  Low fine curves

  Such lines

  Running fine

  Redundant

  But timed

  "*A simple house

  For

  A si
mple man*"

  She said

  Several days passed

  Visiting the house

  The village

  The land

  And the people—

  The joy of warmth

  Friendly

  Kind

  The kind of love

  Of people

  Loving

  And being loved

  (Experiencing

  What mankind is possible

  Of spiritually achieving)

  We continued on

  But came the day

  Too soon

  And she spoke of my sun

  Sitting on a ledge

  High above her home

  Overlooking the valley

  Down below

  In the village

  Little people

  Dotted

  Moving so far away

  All around—

  The woods in tune

  Birds sang

  And the sun shone brightly

  "*The easiest path

  To the sun

  May be the hardest*"

  "Ridiculing riddles

  Again"

  "*No—

  I speak of the Masters

  High in the mountains to the North

  Far

  And many days away

  Upon the highest

  Of all mountains

  "*There

  There trails a treacherous path

  Hard and cold

  But there you might find

  The sun

  "*Long ago

  The Masters left their mountain

  And traveled to a higher plane

  But in a cave

  They left a book

  And in the book

  For those who can

  The rising sun*"

  I thought

  For a moment,

  Then I concluded

  That this was probably

  The path

  Of the prophecy—

  An opportunity

  I would not pass

  "Yes" I said

  "Let us go,

  At the end of that cave

  May be the end of my search"

  She looked down

  At the village

  "*Perhaps,

  But perhaps not*"

  She said

  "Yes

  Perhaps not

  But climbing a mountain

  To search

  For the sun

  Will not compare

  To the searching

  I have already done

  "Yes

  We will go

  And if

  I find not

  The sun

  It will not increase

  The longing

  Of my search"

  I waited

  For her reply

  Still

  She gazed

  Looking at the valley

  (Or perhaps further)

  She sat

  Remaining silent for awhile

  But finally

  She said

  "*You have worked hard

  During this life;

  And as hard

  In lifetimes

  Before

  "*Your searching

  Has brought you

  Close to the sun

  "*And your powers

  Are vast—

  Vaster than mine

  Though your material consciousness

  Does not

  Yet

  Realize it

  "*Yes—

  Your sun is near

  Shining upon an easy path

  Which soon

  You will follow

  "*But soon

  May be longer

  Than the mountain is high*"

  We remained silent

  Several minutes

  Listening to the woods

  Living

  And watching down

  Far below

  The dots

  Then reaching

  Slowly

  I took her hand

  And turned to her

  She looked into my eyes

  And I felt the magnetism

  Of her radiating self

  Moving

  Slowly forward

  And bending down

  I kissed her lips

  A silent breeze stirred—

  Whistling through the pines—

  Soft and cool

  The melody

  We whiled away

  The time

  And soon

  The sun went down

  We rose

  And walked down

  The path

  Again

  To her home

  There

  We stayed the night

  And the next morning

  Rising

  We went about

  Making ready

  For the journey—

  The long, hard journey

  To come