“The Mender! Dakta!”
Wriggling out of the arms of the man who held her, she once more made
her rounds, this time stopping before Steve, and whining as if in
recognition.
Steve looked down into the animal’s face and said:
“Hell! What _are_ you?”
At this Dakta leaped about him in ecstacy and tugged at his coat, until
Steve put out his brawny hand and caressed her head.
Once again came the voice of her master:
“Well selected. Let him sit in front of me, Dakta.”
And dragging Steve by the coat, she brought him in front of her master,
who put out his hand and said:
“Welcome, Brother.”
As the man’s hand touched his, a smile went over the face of Steve and
glorified it, and he silently took his place as indicated.
Once more rang out a command:
“The Light Bearer! Bring the Light Bearer, Dakta.”
This time Dakta made a flying leap into the lap of Pete, and dog and
man gazed into each other’s eyes. Then, as Dakta sprang to the floor,
Pete followed her where she led him, to her master, who held out both
hands and said:
“My Brother!” And Pete passed around and placed his back next to that
of the man.
A final command rang out:
“Select the brothers of each!” And Dakta made her rounds, bringing two
to sit next to the Treasurer, two next to the Leader, two next to the
Mender, and two next to the Light Bearer, coming herself to curl up at
her master’s feet.
His eyes traveled over the men seated about him, now all with their
heads erect and smiles upon their faces, and joy radiating from them
all.
In a voice sweeter than any music, he said:
“Hell becomes Heaven when there is Harmony!
“Is it not so, Brothers?”
The Senses
SEEING:--
From my nest on shore I gaze across the sea to a tiny speck of white
which appears on the horizon--a fluttering sail.
Suddenly, a swiftly darting thing of gray--a puff of smoke--
I strain my eyes in vain, but nowhere can be seen a fluttering sail of
white or the darting thing of gray.
Only the ever-moving sea, gleaming with light!
* * * * *
FEELING:--
What tragedy has been enacted?
How many souls have silently bid adieu to the sunshine and the sea?
To what home is the news carried?
How many hearts are made to suffer?
How many homes bereft?
* * * * *
TASTING:--
I sit and gaze from my nest on land, but only a wall of gray can I
distinguish.
Suddenly upon my lips a taste of salt!
Can it be that I, too, have been submerged and the waters of the sea
caress my lips?
Alas! no! for the gray wall fades away and before my eyes is a sunlit
sea with nothing in sight and upon my lips only my tears.
* * * * *
HEARING:--
From out my nest I gaze upon the sea. Gray it is, from leaden sky.
A deadly silence--then the tramp of myriad feet.
Suddenly the stillness is shattered by a volley and the last honors of
the land are given to my all!!
* * * * *
TOUCHING:--
From outside my nest I gaze upon the sea.
My hands clasp only the leaves of many flowers and dampened earth, when
leaden sky is reft and the tears of the angels of heaven fall upon my
head in understanding,--and are added to the sea!
* * * * *
From out my nest I gaze across the sea.
A sunlit, sparkling sea
A gleaming dancing sea--
“All joy! all hope! be thine,”
It seems to say,
“For life has just begun.”
Fancies
Birds go seeking
Mates,
All on a day made gay.
“Trees are blooming,
Branches waiting,--
Will you come?”
Shy the answer--
Swift surrender--
Roundelays are heard.
Time is flying,
Summer coming,
When the families
Say farewell.
In a pasture green
Fair flowers bloom;
Gay their faces--
Bright their dresses.
Swiftly seeking,
Whirling, wheeling,
Comes a flock
At noon.
“Here are daisies,
Sweetest grasses,
Buttercups and clover,
Let us linger, sip and treasure.”
Summer passes,
Grasses perish,
But in sweetness
Is Springtime cherished.
Daylight passes,
Night approaches,
Lights begin to gleam.
In the houses
One can fancy
Nestlings tucked to rest.
* * * * *
Good night, sea,
Good night world,
All my soul goes out
To thee.
Happy meeting,
Friendly greeting
Upon the milky way.
TRUSTING
Upon the ocean wide
Two little ships set sail.
Over an ocean blue
Two little birds sailed true.
Kneeling upon a nursery floor
Two little children fair.
Under a star-lit sky
A youth and a maiden, shy.
With sightless eyes and folded hands,
Old age murmurs, “God knows best.”
Faith--trust--love--courage!
That is all--God does the rest.
THOUGHTS
Thinking, thinking, thinking,
As the needle travels to and fro
Through sheerest linen--finest lace--
Weaving patterns--all unseen,
Upon its face.
Pictures vivid, pictures dim,
Pictures gay and with sadness grim,
Tiny feet--clinging hands--
All are in the fabric’s sheen.
Unseen tracery takes its place,
To weave again its mystic theme.
THINKING
The only value of thinking
Is thinking of things worth while,
Of thinking of what you want to be,
And thinking of things to do
For the folks--who know not the value
Of thinking of things worth while.
All that you are, or will be,
Is vested in thinking,
And it’s the thoughts worth while,
And the deeds well planned,
Which build your mansion here--and there,
So what are you thinking now--there?
Oh! the hours we spend,
And the days we spend,
In thinking no thoughts at all--
For the only thoughts--which really count--
Are the thoughts of love sent out to all,
For they are the thoughts worth while.
Yesterday--To-day
_A Fantasy in Three Parts_
PART I.--YESTERDAY
Little wisps of clouds I meet as I wander by the sea,--fragile as lacy
petticoats that imprison the form. Useless they seem to be, but as I
watch I think I see a form. Multiplying, I mistake seeming for fact,
and revel in the vision they recall.
Cloudless skies--dazzling sunshine--heavy scent of flowers, and
floating upon the breast of the jeweled sea, a barge--gay with silken
draperies, flowers and the music of many blades cleaving the waves.
Upon a golden couch lies a softly clad nymph. Sapphire are her eyes,
alabaster her arms, coral tinges her mouth and pearls gleam, as the sun
warms and bathes her in its rays.
So motionless she lies that one might think it a magical statue carven
by a master hand--only, in the eyes gleams a force which keeps at
regular beats the play of the blades and sends the craft to the port
desired.
Supporting herself on one arm, she raises high the other and points to
a gleaming palace by the water’s edge, and with a quicker rhythm the
barge sweeps over the water and reaches the landing.
It is a palace of dreams which appears to be holding within its walls
the design of Aspiration.
Alighting from the barge, the nymph seems to float through the air, so
lightly does she glide over the earth, and enters the palace.
In the entrance hall she hesitates and looks--from the left, where
Music beckons, to the right, where Art smiles, and then stands and
gazes at a closed door. It is simple in design and quite plain and
ordinary compared to the rest of the palace, but unlike all the other
doors, which stand open, this is tightly closed. On looking closer,
over the portal can be seen in infinitesimal letters, the words
Knowledge, Wisdom, Power.
In front of this door sits a figure wrapped in flowing garments.
Hesitatingly, the nymph approaches, and addresses the figure in accents
which are full of sweetness and yet are throbbing with will and
determination.
“I would enter. Open the door for me.”
“By what right do you issue that command?” asks the custodian.
“The right of Desire. Is that not sufficient?”
“Nay! not here. The other rooms may be entered and dwelt in by that
alone, but this opens its doors only to aspiration for Qualities, for
it is that knowledge only which can be gained within.”
“Qualities! What are they? I tell you I will enter! You may sit there
forever, if you will, but I shall pass you.”
“Gladly will I stand aside for you when you are able to give me the
pass-word which unlocks the door,” replied its keeper.
“And where shall I purchase that word? No price is beyond me.”
“There is no price. It is just a little word. Seek it diligently and
you will find.”
With a gesture of disdain the nymph swept past and entered the rooms,
first to the left and then to the right, and then coming again to the
closed door, seated herself and said:
“I WILL enter! No matter how long I must remain. What is the use of
this palace to me, if that room is closed? I will have none of it! I
command you to open the door.”
But the figure remained motionless, and finally, wearying of
the silence, the nymph approached and touched the sleeve of the
garment--but, alas! it gave no response, for it was stone.
II.
TODAY
Lying within the embrace of many pillows was a woman, her eyes fixed
upon the sea, which rolled and tumbled below her making a very symphony
of sound.
Her eyes travelled slowly to the horizon, then back to the book which
lay upon her lap. Picking it up she commenced to read:
“Lying within each and every soul is the seed which contains the memory
of all past achievements, all past desires, like a pure crystal which
reflects all within its surface. Just as the crystal will reflect
blurred pictures when it is marred by ill usage, so this seed fails
to give the perfect flower of knowledge when it has met with neglect.
To give it warmth will bring to view all its possibilities, all its
loveliness.
“Make a search for that seed within you which contains all memories.
Review each and every event by pouring upon it the sunshine of
understanding and searching. Look within and ‘Know Thyself’.”
At this the woman put down her book and once again her gaze wandered to
the horizon and within her eyes came a gleam--gazing intently--without
movement.
One watching her would have said she saw something upon that sea, which
stretched before her.
With a swift movement she slips from her pillows, and with wide open
eyes, exclaims:
“The door--the same one of my dreams.”
Entranced, she remains motionless until a sudden gust of wind picks up
her book and flings it at her feet.
Stooping, she picks it up, and then, as her eyes scan the page, there
is a sudden tenseness of the body, as she reads:--
“The key to the ‘Temple of Knowledge’ lies within each soul and he who
seeks, from the heart, shall find. To knock imperiously will summon
the guardians, but to reach the inner chamber it is necessary to enter
first into the closet of your own soul.
“There, in a neglected corner, will be the golden key. It will be in
need of burnishing, perhaps--hidden as it has been all these years,
but just a little effort will bring out its brilliancy. Take it in
your hands, reverently, for it is fragile, as well as pure, and place
it next to your heart. Keep it there until you can feel the warmth
radiating from it, through your entire being. Then, and then only, is
it ready for use, for it is then a Master Key and can unlock any door.”
With a sudden exclamation, the book is clasped more closely, and a
light of understanding breaks over her face.
“So simple! And I have searched so long!--Just love!”
III.
THE REAPING
In the streets flags are waving and banners unfurled to the breeze,
while along the edges are eager, strained faces, watching.
With a shout, the cry rings out, “They are coming!” and then in the
distance is heard the sound of music and the tramping of many feet,
all in unison.
Gradually the marchers make their way past the waiting throngs, and
as they pass, each head is raised in wonderment, and then reverently
bowed, for, arm in arm march the Nations of the World,--all united in
a common bond and no longer enemies, for at their head moves a tiny
child, carrying in its hands a wee banner, but of mighty import,--for
on it in letters of gold is
“The Ruler of all the World”
“LOVE”
Action--Reaction
ACTION
A village nestling among the pines. Only the buzz of insects and hum of
bees, together with the accompaniment of rustling branches, breaks the
silence.
All is peace and harmony.
Hark!
From afar sounds a discordant blatant note. Nearer it comes, ever
growing harsher, until at last, at the end of the street is seen a
mounted horseman, with a bugle at his lips. With one final blast he
summons all the peaceful souls, who crowd about him. He watches them,
as they gather, with an appraising eye, and then with uplifted hand
commands silence.
“All men and boys past the age of twelve follow me.
“In the name of the Law you must obey! Come!”
Raising his bugle, once more he shatters the peace of that little
hamlet and moves on, followed in silence by all the men and boys over
twelve.
No sound but that of moving feet can be heard. No tears, no
lamentations from the stricken statues left behind.
The hush of even-tide--
The drone of insects--
The hum of bees--
The swaying of branches,
Thrilled by the breeze--
and silence once more descends upon the street.
Furroughed ground--
Booming guns--
Shrieking shells--
Smoke-laden air--
Young, old-men boys, automatons of men, ply their trade at the command
“By order of the Law! Obey!”
Daylight passes--
The hues of even-tide caress,
And speak of rest,
but the command rings out:
“Forward! Attack!”
Night comes forth
With gleaming mantle,
And lays it over all that remains--
Furroughed ground!
REACTION
A bugle sounds in a hamlet town, and streaming forth come stricken
souls, who with outstretched arms go forth to meet that straggling band
which passes through the street--but they pay no heed.
Luminous are their faces, radiant their robes, as they gaze straight
ahead, with never a look to the right or the left.
Morning breezes--
Buzz of insects
Hum of bees--
Branches bending
To the breeze.
A Vision
In the far distant East gleams a light--faint but effulgent, and as I
watch it moves slowly, majestically, westward.
Still I gaze, and watch it ever going higher, moving more swiftly, and
growing ever brighter and larger.
Still I gaze:
Swifter becomes its movement, more dazzling its light, and lo! from
what seemed a speck when I first gazed upon that light, has grown a
golden bird with outstretched wings gleaming and sending showers of
golden radiance with each movement.
Westward it moves, ever expanding, ever more dazzling, until at last
all the face of the world has been showered with the glimmering gold
from its wings.
Still I gaze:
High in the heavens is motionless this wonderful golden bird--then,
slowly, with scarcely moving pinions it descends, and with a final
quiver takes under the shelter of its mighty wings a world of sorrow.
Still I gaze:
No movement, but ever the light increasing and dazzling in brilliancy
and beauty.
Still I gaze:
A flutter--an unfolding of the mighty pinions and then a swift flight
upwards--ever swifter--ever higher, until at last all sight of its
wonder is lost.
Then I gaze where it rested, and behold! a new earth of dazzling gold
and everywhere gleaming lights of rainbow tints.
Then I muse:
And from out of the silence comes a voice:
“Thus will the world appear when Peace has folded it within its wings,
and Love shines out from each and every window.”
[Illustration]
Transcriber’s Note:
Obvious errors in spelling and punctuation have been silently corrected
in this version, but minor inconsistencies and archaic forms have been
retained as printed.