LOOK BOTH WAYS
7
Men and women unknowingly pursue and are led like sheep into the dizzy heights and bottomless pits of derangement, he thought, as he searched in vain for something that looked remotely familiar. Without realising their madness, they think that they are wise, but their body and their mind is directed toward their own selves, not toward their natural centre; for their thought is occupied with their self and materialistic ego-thinking deeds, rather than natural God-given feelings.
It is their own fire, he smiled sadly—that will burn them.
Nothing looked familiar. Nothing sounded familiar. And then it did—the angry blasting horns of cars and the shaking fists of their men and women drivers.
He smiled, knowing he need not forgive them, for they know not what they do. True forgiveness, he knew, with love for his fellow man, no matter his or her state of mind or nature—was simply seeing that no wrong was ever done in the first place. So there was never anything to forgive.
A fender brushed his hip, spinning him slightly to the left. He recovered, smiled, and did not even glance at the dark silent eyes that bore him ill will.
Listen to what I am going to tell you, he thought to them all, as they passed this way and that around him with hate of the moment—and believe in the truth, your truth; that which sows and that which is sown will dissolve in the fire, within the fire and the water. And you will hide in your own self-created ism-tombs of darkness forever.
He couldn’t believe his luck. It began to rain, and it did rain. And then it began to pour, and it did pour. Then it began to thunder, and it did thunder, and loudly, too. Then the dark, wet sky bore forth lightning and it was frightening, as old feelings of familiarity washed over him, along with the torrents of hard-driving cold rain.
He lifted his face to the dark night sky with love for his journey of love and he smiled widely, like a man possessed.
And after a long time, men and women shall show forth, he knew—as the fruit of the evil trees being punished; being slain in the mouth of beasts and other men and women at the instigation of the rains and winds and air; and the light that shines above and directs all in the universal playhouse of the heavenly bodies and stars that light up the screen.
‘I tell you!’ He shouted to the fury of the storm and the lightning. ‘That men and women who will listen to my words and read their spaces in between, then will turn away their faces or sneer at them or smirk at these! Truly, I tell you that they will be handed over to the ruler above who rules over all the powers, as their King. Then He will turn them around and cast them from heaven, forever; down to the abyss. And they will be imprisoned in a narrow, dark and lonely place!’
And the rain beat down, and it did beat down, on him, but not alone.
‘Are you crazy? Or just plain bloody stupid?’ The woman’s voice shouted, with a tone that would see him locked in a padded cell, with white clothing whose arms tied behind.
He grinned into a sudden onslaught of cold driving rain. At least it would be dry clothing, he laughed aloud, silently, unto himself and his thoughts.
‘What the hell are you doing in the middle of an intersection and in the middle of the bloody storm from hell?’ The voice shouted above the din of the driving wash and the thunder.
He did not turn to face her, but smiled even harder. He glanced left and right, then all about him. And then he looked both ways. But his head remained facing the front.
If I flee westward I find the fire, he thought. If I turn southward I find it there, as well. If I turn northward the threat of the seething fire of men and women meets me again.
He began to laugh aloud. Then he felt her forcibly take his left arm by the elbow. Woe to you, godless men and women, he thought, as he felt her begin to apply force. You who have no hope, who rely on things that will not happen for you, as you unnaturally, are. He felt her grip tighten on his arm and sensed himself lean, although he had not intended to.
‘Come on!’ She screamed urgently at him, as she, too, was brushed by a steel, uncaring fender and an angry shout and shaking of a fist from the cold eyes of one such as she. ‘You’ll get me bloody killed, too, if we don’t move! Now come on!’
He felt himself move and then immediately bump into metal he hadn’t seen, for his eyes were still upturned to the dark night sky and the driving cold rain. It soaked him through and drenched his underwear to his socks. Yet, he smiled, as he sensed the ground move slowly beneath his squelching feet, within his equally wet shoes.
Woe to you men and women because of the self-status wheel that turns in your societal-ego-conditioned minds, he recalled. Woe to you within the grip of the burning that is naturally in you. Yet, you don’t know; for it will devour your flesh openly and rend your souls secretly, and prepare you for your companions to follow.
‘Jesus, bloody Christ!’ The woman screamed at him, as she dragged him literally from the road. ‘I can’t damn well believe you! Bloody hell!’ She shouted angrily.
He turned then and looked down at her small frame, smiling for the fury that vented forth in such strength from such a small package. The look on her face was painful to see, even for him. Yet, he warmed her with his eyes, or at least, he tried to.
‘You are bloody crazy!’ She shouted, as the thunder crashed over them and the lightning that followed surrounded them in brilliance for only a brief moment; yet, long enough for him to see her eyes see him. And he did see her. And she did see him. He smiled his best smile, his boyish smile—his little-boy-lost smile. And then he realised, he really was lost, again.
Jesus, he thought to himself. Then he grinned sheepishly. Yep, he concluded—lost a-bloody-gain. And then he smiled some more, at her. She was not smiling back, but he was.
Your light, as a divine female, he thought silently—has hidden in the clouds and the garments of women that are put upon you—while he gazed deeply into her eyes. And you are seized by the hope of happiness that does not exist for you. And who is it you have believed? Do you not know that you all dwell among those who should really be you?
His smile saddened.
You baptised your soul as a woman in the water of darkness in thought, he recalled. You walked by your own whims and ignored the happiness you arrived with, as a natural female.
Then she smiled, in the rain, the lightning and the thunder. She smiled, and her gaze toward him, softened. And, she was perfect, absolutely perfect—a natural feeling-dominant female.
Woe to you women who love your ego-intimacy with mankind, yet, pollute your female’s natural intercourse with them, he believed. Woe to you women in the grip of the powers of your conditioned thoughts and not your natural bodies—for those thoughts will afflict you.
‘Do you want to get out of this bloody storm?’ She shouted at him, losing her smile, as the rain drenched her, as well. ‘Or do you want to bloody-well drown, right here on the sidewalk?’
‘Yes!’ He shouted, and he did shout, as if in deep and possessed prayer.
As you pray with me tonight, he thought, as she gave him her lead and he followed squelching beside her—you will find rest, for you will leave behind the suffering and the disgrace of thinking-dominant women.
She tugged him hard and he looked at her, grinning, like a little boy.
And when you come forth from your sufferings and passions and arise as a natural female body, only then you will your natural female receive rest. And then you will reign with me.
‘Come on!’ She shouted and tugged him through the driving, blinding rain. ‘Jesus!’
He stepped up and kept up with her, as she led the way out of her conditioned thinking womanhood and into her unconditional feeling femaleness, fully.
He smiled down at her in her unknown beauty that she and the entire world would soon see.
You will join with me, and I with you, from now on, forever and ever.
‘It’s wet! Isn’t it?’ He shouted down to her.
She turned her head quickly. The look she gave him was worth bottling. He just grinned and dripped beside her, wondering if it was going to rain for forty days and forty nights, and then wondered why that sounded familiar.
At least something seemed familiar, he then thought, dryly. I hope not. I hate being wet!
Lift up the wet rock, he grinned with heart’s warmth to the Good Samaritan who pulled him along, like a stray cat, not wanting to go for a walk—and I will be there, for you. He was wet, he thought, as he hurried to keep up and not be dragged. Look both ways and split the wood and I will be there, he remembered—as I have been. Always and in all natural ways.
Jesus, he reminded himself, with a smile. I hate getting wet. Then his brow puzzled, but only slightly.
She turned and glanced strangely at him, as she pulled him quickly along through the blinding, hard-driving cold rain on her face. She was not smiling, nor was she scowling, but her eyes held so many unasked and unanswered questions.
He knew he had just as many, but what a trip. He smiled at her, anyway, as he lengthened his stride slightly and wondered how such a little woman could move so fast in high heel shoes.
This time, he thought. I will not die for you. I never did. I will live, through you.
‘Oh! Jesus, Christ!’ He heard her curse angrily, as she stumbled suddenly on her towering heels, but then quickly righted herself, yanking him along, even faster.
Yes, he puzzled, without knowing why. Then he looked both ways, as he hurried to keep up. Familiar names, not his, though. Too old fashioned, not modern enough, too easily forgotten—like his. What the hell was his name, he wondered again, then lost the thought, as she almost reefed his arm from its socket.
‘Come on, damn you!’ She shouted angrily over her shoulder, jerking him solidly, like a dog on a very short leash. ‘What are you waiting for, the second bloody coming?’
Waiting for it? Now there’s a hell of a thought, he puzzled briefly. Then he gritted his teeth and set his jaw firmly against the driving cold rain and shifted his centre of balance, helping them both to move in the same desired, destined and natural direction… forward. Then he smiled and wondered if she would have a robe for him to wear.