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23/04/2019 / Harry Browne

A Fabled Voice Calls by Catriona Murphy

(Meditation of The Little Prince)nice-background-boy-sitting-moon_23-2147618729

On a moon, sat a lonesome boy.
As shadow crept across the surface of the milky-grey, pockmarked terrain, he watched his rotating star disappear behind the Brushelle mountains, leaving him alone in his dappled desert.
A voice spoke to him.
An ancient, fabled voice from a storybook with low tones that could bend boughs, move mountains or the hearts of thousands. It rumbled beneath the alien earth and yet rained down from the constellations above like a soft drizzle in snoozy mornings. It came from everywhere, and the boy found to his humbled surprise, even from within. It echoed a timeless Yahweh, and his fibred bones and sinews Knew it, yet didn’t.
It spoke in a foreign language – tongues, something akin to scripture readings and Latin verses among holy men.
Fear spread into the boy’s stomach and spent his legs to lead. He did not know what to make of this majestic yet elusive voice, but rang in his ears it did, resonate in the mountains and craters of his moon it did. Push into his consciousness and insert itself into his very atoms until he clasped his ears in despair.
The coldness of the moon seeped into the boy’s woolen shawl and he lit his fire in haste, hoping the new element in his environment would plug out the clamour of this voice.
Staring into the fingering flames, he gasped as his body tensed and resisted the flow of the voices inflections, gibberish words, edged with sharp ends and all nuisance.
It was only nearing madness did a part of him surrender, wink out like a flame. He couldn’t identify what it was that died, but died it did.
In the void, a thing beated, which he came to know as his heart, and here he poured all concentration into it, his energy flooded into that cubby hole in his chest and his whole being burst.
Coherent words now flowed seamlessly into his mind.
‘The more you avoid change, the faster it will chase you…’
‘Accepting yourself in every moment, is the pathway to peace…’
The boy asked aloud, ‘Who – what are you?’
The voice answered. ‘I am you and more than you.’
Puzzled, the boy considered his next question carefully. ‘Why are you terrorising me?’
The boy felt the voice blanch in surprise. ‘Terrorise? No, that is not you talking, that is your mind, your identity construct you built before you pushed me away.’
‘I would do no such thing,’ the boy argued.
‘But you have, you tend to your garden, your water and your tree everyday. You feed yourself and yet you do not. I’ve been trying to reach you for some time now. It’s time for us to talk.’
The boy re-adjusted himself by the fire, unsure of what to say but, ‘Alright’.
‘Do you remember how you shivered when you heard the eventide birdsong? Before you were exiled to this moon?’
‘Yes,’ the boy replied uncertainly.
‘Do you remember the canal walks? Water in sunshine and feeding ducks? Do you remember your days of wandering Earth, no more than a fool and flowered by innocence as you passed each border? Do you remember your open heart to strangers and how it inflamed and changed you? Do you remember, young boy, how watching the stars opened your eyes? It’s time to step closer to them, once more.’
A small, sharp pain sliced across his chest in recognition.
‘I’m not sure what you mean,’ he lied.
Lightning cracked across what he thought was a cloudless night.
‘Don’t deny what your heart tells you,’ the voice commanded. ‘Don’t deny the gifts of life, take the road not taken. It’s time to walk amongst the stars again.’
‘What happens if I get lost? Or lose my footing?’
‘You know where to look, you’ve always known where to look. Those who’re meek, with the courage to not know themselves when they venture out, are the ones who find their Home the quickest.’
A vision of a woman in red appeared before the fire, and fans drifted down from the sky like light snowfall, overturning pictures of his life.
His time in Ghana, Croatia and Libya; the Sahara desert hot on his skin.
The four winds called, wanderlust beckoned and the boy had decided on his answer.
He took the woman’s outstretched hand.

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