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As I awaited an end to the seemingly endless, I realized an inevitability. In fact, I realized it was inevitable for me to come to this realization. It was not “reality”, nor was it a “vision”. It was an unavoidable “truth”. I could not elude it because no matter which I chose, every path eventually led to it. Though I felt joy for having been emancipated from an endless web of deceit, I realized now that the predator had just seen me. My emancipation led to my slavery. I realized I was further entangled. I was suddenly hopeful. I was afraid. Was helpless. Disdainful.
I realized that the rainbow comes after thunder, rain, darkness, fear. Its colours create a lovely deception; one which makes me think of inherent beauty, forgetting what preceded it. In fact, it is what preceded it which gives significance to its unavoidable, untouchable beauty.
The fear during the period of the endlessness made me want to see the coloured arc, take comfort in its gentleness, its uplifting backward smile, its familiarity.
At first I was not a Believer. Now I am. I know it was It who created thunder so I could appreciate calm. It was It who revealed to my eyes the image of Satan. What eternal suffering looked like. What “gratitude” meant. It now keeps me out of the perpetual cycle of endlessness others endure. It created happiness for me and I am forever indebted to Its compassion. I cannot see or feel It but I know It is the Creator of every “reality”, “vision”, “truth”. As I became one of Faith I became liberated. Yet I was enslaved by Its everlasting “compassion”.
The thunder hit in triplets, six times with each blast. By the time it was over, colour had meant beauty. Beauty had meant peace.
I was told the rain was over. My fear had been shed. My hope was realized. I had read the Prophecy about the prevalence of good over evil. Now the Prophecy had become a reality. Its “truth” was revealed to my eyes. I was thankful for Its everlasting “compassion”.
Yet the Cycle continued. I was told of a new Prophecy. It predicted an endless rain. One which would force an everlasting enslavement. At first I was not a Believer. Now I am.
When the rain was over, colour had meant beauty. Beauty had meant peace.
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Nima Shirali
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Comments
Excellent Stewart Silverstein | Aug 30th, 2004
Very challenging thoughts. Thank you.
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