We have a global media crisis at hand! More than ever we are aware of our responsibility vis-à-vis our readers to report fast, objectively and honestly.
The words "honestly and candidly" are the leitmotiv of our next main story, in which we endeavor to report about another inexplicable and this time positive phenomenon:
A group of 33 children and adolescents managed to advance all the way into the control center of our main printing press. It remains an enigma, how they were able to pass through all the security checks. We are working on an interview with the chief of security.
Our regular readers will know that we recently had bomb -threats due to our very frank reporting from all political hot spots. As a result of this our security system was beefed up three-fold. In the moment it is for us simply inconceivable, how the children managed to accomplish this "friendly" invasion. We call it friendly, because these amazing children proved to our technicians and to our editor-in-chief that they were able to solve all technical problems in a short time, to make all systems and machines function again without a hitch! It is hard to believe, but obviously they are able as well to switch off all systems by invisible remote-control. This is what they did, when our security tried to force them out of the control room: All systems crashed! All systems defunct - as long as they want!
We came to the inevitable conclusion that these young people are helpful, highly skilled and have capacities as yet uncharted.
More than that: Their skills are simply superior to those of any of our experts!
The special edition you are reading right now could only get into print due to the help of these extraordinary young people!
As they refuse to be photographed we request you to believe the written word in front of you. Picture this: We had to promise to them that each and every word written here is true! This was their sine-qua-non-condition for their continued support, for keeping our machines running.
Meanwhile the group is working with our editor-in-chief on a kind of manifesto, a news-flash "For All Indigo-Blue-Tits and Clairvoyants on This Planet" - and all those still in the process of becoming...- whatever that may mean. It is their explicit wish that this message is to be distributed and sent to all still functioning print- and broadcasting-media worldwide.
We have agreed to this.
We feel that there is one more thing that ought to be mentioned: These children and adolescents have a lot of humor and it was - and still is - a joy to work with them!
Their not yet decoded headline-epigraph reads: "Marduk-Indigo"
…And then the technician in charge for the big printing machines spoke thus:
"As you know I’m a technician. I’d like to tell you all that though I don’t understand how they do it, I have seen it with my own eyes: They can do, what we can’t - and certainly not from lack of trying on our side. And then something else: We have no choice with regard to their demand! They actually demonstrated to us that they can stop the big printing machines - without touching any switchboard!"
In this moment one could have heard the proverbial needle falling. Obviously Wolfgang Amadeus Lobsang thought so too. He opened the black attaché case and retrieved a big needle. Artfully he waited until all eyes were on him. He then raised his hand high and dropped the needle.
"Klonk!" screamed 33 children in a perfectly synchronized way and cracked up laughing.
"With regard to stopping the printing machines..." began Wolfgang Amadeus Lobsang with a poker face and pointed with his conductor’s wand at the green-blond-violet terzetto.
"That was not..."opined green
"...blackmail..." said blond
"... but it was only..."added violet
"...real fun!" completed all three together.
The children applauded and laughed. The atmosphere in the conference room started to be more relaxed by several points on the Richter scale.
"You know what?" The editor-in-chief smiled at all the adults and young people in the big room. "I like this conference!" He loosened his tie, opened the top button of his shirt and went on:” Before we ask our dear guests to read out the text they want us to print and disseminate, you are all invited to ask any questions you may have - and I bet you have many - to our guests. They have been so kind to express their readiness..."
Wolfgang Amadeus and the girl in black ripped their hats off their heads and bowed deeply.
Laughingly the editor continued:" Go ahead with your questions, but mind the time: The next special edition is ready to go to print!"
A lot of hands shot up into the air. The editor started to count and then gave up:" I simply call on the first two fastest hands: My secretary, Mrs. Severing and Mr. Kürbler. Your turn!"
The two addressees looked at each other and then spoke perfectly synchronized:” How do you manage to do all this?" They both eyed the girl in black.
"Why do you look at me? The guy next to me here..."she pointed at Wolfgang Amadeus and went on to say:"...is a bit of a braggart, but he knows as much as all of us here...Well, okay. Whatever we are doing cannot be explained by means of empirical science. To give you a hint: We have a vastly expanded D.N.A. The more of the up to now dormant sections of our D.N.A.double-helix-molecule are activated, the more capabilities are becoming available for everyday use, such as telepathy, mind-reading, telekinesis and so on. Capabilities, which have been termed `paranormal´ or `psi´ or labeled in any other stupid way in the past. Additionally we are all interconnected or net-worked or whatever fancy word you may use for the fact that we know each other’s feelings. We know, what other groups of us or certain individuals do or what happens to them. Worldwide."
"May I humbly request permission to add some comments to your brilliant...?”
"Yes, yes, shoot away, leather-pantie." The girl in black generously granted permission.
"It all has to do with a lot of different factors: The geo-magnetic field is getting weaker, the Schumann frequency is changing to 13 Hertz, the precession of the equinox brings us to a special point in the great cycle - but I don’t want to bore you with all that. It’s a fact that worldwide more and more children with an enormous scope of new capabilities are born. That benign tide can’t be stopped anymore. These kids will look through any lie and are deeply connected with nature and all its forms. Ah yes, our immune system is about 5 000 times stronger as that of the obsolete type of Homo sapiens. We can’t get aids and can handle all junk food well. We can analyze, influence and manipulate - in a positive way of course - electronic circuits as well as electromagnetic..."
"... and can talk to angels and elves!" interrupted a little, about 7 year old girl with red hair and freckles in a charming way.
"Exactly, sweetheart." Amadeus bent down to press a kiss onto the freckles.
"But you, uncle," the little girl went on and pointed at the editor,"...you have to stop smoking. Your immune thing is weak and your lung is going kaput!"
The editor stopped smiling and extinguished his cigarette in the overflowing ashtray.
"First of all, I would like to express my happiness that you popped in on us - to help and lighten up the scene. I am impressed." Mrs. Severing smiled. “My next question out of many sounds perhaps stupid: You are obviously able to read minds, to debunk lies instantly and to get all kind of hardware working again...Did you actually acquire these capacities through hard work - I mean like training to walk on a tightrope - or did it just rain down on you?"
Wolfgang Amadeus flashed a smile, which showed his sparkling white teeth and issued the Zen-koan of the day:" In Austria they have a folksy saying, which goes like this:
The Lord bestoweth upon his children everything while they sleep. Yet I can say that many of us had booked a rather rough passage through the volatile oceans of time.
This - I dare say - includes our fair lady here..."
Mrs. Severing really got into it and addressed herself directly to the girl in black:” May I ask for your name? And am I on target with feeling something inside of you that doesn’t like to meet crowds and to speak in public?"
"Yes, your intuition is okay. Call me simply `M´ - that’ll do." `M´ looked happy.
"Yes, it’s true, I’d rather ride on a horse through a forest watching the flight of an eagle than having to deal with all the garbled thought waves humans are in the habit of producing - and I can’t help noticing. Right now it feels good to meet someone being sensitive.
Back to your question: No, for most of us there was no such thing as goodies raining down on us. You can’t acquire it through tight-rope-training either. But what you can do is opening the door...Get a picture of this: Imagine the antennas you are born with are getting an enormous boost in the power of reception. Suddenly you can read or hear all thought-stuff the humans around you produce. If that happens to you while being a child and you try to explain that to your parents and others, you’ll be treated for schizophrenia or A.D.S. and they pump Ritalin or other killers into you...Or you’ll be locked away in a nuthouse - I got a taste of that experience and it’s hell.
Many highly sensitive beings have been thrown into madhouses and turned into zombies - or they can’t handle it all and try to use drugs or alcohol as an anesthesia.
Or they end up as dissenters in jail..."
"I’m truly sorry..." interjected Mrs. Severing.
"Thank you, it’s ok. At the same time all these challenges are there to make us grow. And most of all there are more and more of us and we can feel it. This is making it a little simpler, but definitely not easy!"
"Thank you so much for helping me trying to understand!" Mrs. Severing sent a warm smile to `M´. The two women started to take a liking to each other.
Now only Mrs. Severing noticed that there was a girl with features equally Tibetan like Wolfgang Amadeus Lobsang, who stayed constantly in the shadow of the girl `M´.
It almost seemed that the Tibetan girl quietly and unobtrusively supplied supportive energy to `M´.
"So, please forgive me, we’re running out of time!" The editor said it gently. “It is the wish of our guests to get their text into the present issue of our paper. Can we please see or hear your draft?"
"Well, my personal draft would be very frank and goes like this..." `M´ sent an earlobe-to-earlobe-grin over to Amadeus.
"Folks!!! - With three exclamation marks.
"It is five to twelve and high time for a reality check: Stop allowing the bellwethers of your governments to sheep-herd you.
Stop obeying the string-pullers behind the scenes blindly.
Open your eyes wide and come to your own conclusions: Can you still trust the either collapsing or teetering-on-the-edge global financial system based on greed and maximizing of profits? Do you feel the need for change regarding human society’s structures, which are still based on outdated pyramidal stuff like patriarchy and hierarchy?
Ask yourselves: Are you feeling good and warm in your heart while looking at all this mess?
Should you pay taxes to organized churches riddled with child-molesting priests, who then try to cover their asses with your money in multi-million-dollar-cover-ups..."
"Stop! Please, please, hold it right there!" The editor went as far as making the gesture of praying with his hands. "We really are ready to print your text, but the language, please!"
"Well, all right, here then comes the soft-ice-version with honey-dew-editing..." The girl `M´ smiled and overplayed it a bit in her attitude of considering it to be lackadaisical.
"For the soft-porn - eh, excuse me, the softly edited version I’ll give you the leather- pantie- hero! Please, darling, try to not give me nausea!"
It was understood not only by Mrs. Severing that the girl’s rough edges had something to do with her rough experiences in the past.
"Thank you for the charming introduction, dearie.
We’ll try it with a dose of humor and wit:
`All ye brilliant blue tits everywhere on this burdened planet: We can feel you, we can hear you! Get out of your hide-away, get out of the psycho-ward of the hospital, get out of jail and get out of your hermitage. In case of an emergency just tell the wardens: Unlock and open up! You know that you can be irresistible! Adjust and fine-tune your antennas. Don’t be discouraged by the not-yet-blue-tits: They haven’t arrived there yet, but the vast majority is trying.
Go straight into the schools, invade the universities - like we infiltrated the pentagon and are providing guidance on all major airport-hubs! Do likewise and enter the parliament buildings, the railway stations and walk proudly on all walks of life!
If you can prevent a train from derailing, do it!
If the train derailing is already done and you can still help - go and do it! With other words: Do your thing!
We are sure that you understand perfectly well, what we mean.
"And all ye others, dear fellow beings, who are not yet understanding fully, what we mean: never mind, - we know that most of you are trying - and that’s what counts!
In case the electronic internet collapses, connect to the true, universal internet!
If your mobile ceases to function - as one day it inevitably will - dispose of it in an environment- friendly way, throw away the crutches and remember please that wireless telepathy is one of the many potentials you are born with!
Is your aptitude apterous? No! Recall that your aptitude has the amplitude of multi-winged multidimensionality!
How, you ask?
Okay, here comes the instruction manual: All you have to do is to ask for it sincerely, honestly and patiently.
If things don’t work instantly, you are probably running low on patience.
It is possible that the world of destructive technology-garbage is collapsing. But do not worry: it is just another bubble that’s bursting, because you know: No bubble can expand forever. Just look at the global financial system. Can you still trust it?
In case the geo-magnetic field is decreasing in strength down to Zero and the Schumann frequency simultaneously increasing its frequency up to 13 hertz, then the following scenario could unfold: Not only all data on all computers will be deleted, but all ideas (preconceived and otherwise), thought-structures and traumata of the human race will be erased. This can happen because the average individual as well as the collective consciousness is connected to the geo-magnetic field.
If you don’t believe this, please ask the Russian cosmonauts and the people of NASA: They know since long by experience that astronauts spending a long time in space -meaning at the edge of the magnetic field - have the tendency to go nuts. That’s why the astronauts are wearing secret magnetic belts, which produce a small artificial magnetic field.
In the scenario mentioned above these little gadgets won’t make much sense.
All of this is no reason for panic, when all these old patterns dissolve and the big engine producing it goes for recycling. On the contrary: Just try to imagine that all the Israelis and the Palestinians forget completely, why they are hating each other since long. Or the Americans and the Al Qaeda people. Or....fill in the blanks.
Old patterns disappear and make room for something new. And this something new will be so incredibly full of light and beauty that in the moment it eludes definition.
Indian Yogis speak of the dissolution of the "samskaras" of the last millennia, which in effect would mean the neutralizing of an incredible pressure.
With other words, dear fellow beings: Stay calm! We are just again reaching a special point in our cosmic-terrestrial-evolutionary cycle.
The Homo Sapiens, meaning the human being in its present form, is only a transitional being.*
"This is clear, isn’t it? Whoever looks at the global mess caused by the present-day homo sapiens and still claims that we are the crown of creation, belongs on the stage of a very black-humor-cabaret. Don’t you agree?
Therefore we look at the evidence and conclude: After the present-day-ricochet-shot-homo-sapiens comes something else. We indigo- and crystal children are only the advance guard.
Next comes something we can only look forward to with joyful anticipation. Something we are not yet able to imagine in our wildest dreams.
The less we resist and the more we cooperate, the smoother the transition will be.
So folks, join us and dance with us on the streets! Dance the joy back into the life onto this planet!
To highlight this, I will give you a news flash of the worldwide media-circus, which is functioning again with a little help from us and our friends:
`In spite of continuing mass-black-outs and related technical problems we get reports from many of the global mega-cities that the mood on the streets is inexplicably bright, - like at times of carnival. The people are dancing on the street and are singing the new world-hit of the Galileo-Brothers:
Galileo said it, and he was right:
Just enjoy it, don't get uptight.
The inquisition was wrong, we see the light
We know now what's turning around what all right! ´"
“If I would wear a hat, I would take it off now! Highly interesting!" The editor-in-chief had jumped to his feet.
"I think I can speak on behalf of all colleagues: The mood of the house is very positive! I don’t claim to have understood everything, but somehow the whole thing is absolutely fascinating! Inside of me I feel something like - how do you say?" He looked around searching for help.
"Resonance? Strikes a chord?" the girl `M´ suggested and produced her most charming smile.
"Exactly! Thank you very much! We will print that, okay? Any further questions?"
Mrs. Severing’s hand shot up again.
"Yes, Mrs. Severing?"
"Sorry, if it’s me again, but dear `M´, I simply have to speak up: Thank you! I am deeply impressed. Then please enlighten me: What’s the meaning of the keyword or epigraph Marduk-Indigo? `Indigo´ I start to understand a bit, but `Marduk´?"
….Later we come to the moment when an aborigine, an adolescent member of one of the tribes living on the Andaman Islands is trying to get across to a congregation in a church:
A tsunami is coming and the church is built on low grounds…
Lila starts speaking in a strange voice.
Lila mumbled incoherently.
Kanta continued speaking rapidly:” On top of it we have to be the accompanying guardians of our Lila so as to not loose her! Please don’t ask how, - I know you can do it and help!”
Angela got the urgency in Kanta´s voice, suppressed her questions and nodded courageously her consent.
Ulrike, bewildered as she was, expressed her consent too.
Lila was still mumbling. Her voice was trailing off.
And then it happened.
Her friends noted with surprise that Lila suddenly spoke in a lower voice and with a strange, outlandish accent:
"I no come to disturb your Christmas service. With a heavy heart I say: Sorry!
"I no come here to return offence to those of you, who laughed at me - only trying to help you, when I warned you two sun rises ago.
"I have to stop the talking of your shaman priest and I say: Sorry!"
The simple wooden structure of the church was absolutely packed due to it being the second day of Christmas.
Kanta, Ulrike and Angela saw with eyes closed, how that young aboriginal stood in his faded jeans and sun-bleached tee-shirt in the central aisle of the church. Lila did not just see; she was there with the boy. She could fuse into his field of resonance, could see the turmoil inside of him with empathy:
The boy with the nickname “Dugong Wallah” was desperate, because he had to be here again trying to warn these stubborn people. The Spirit-Of-All-That-Is as well as his tribe’s shaman had told him to do it.
He was ill at ease with these people here in the church. Most of them reacted only with a confrontational attitude. He felt insecure and – yes – almost lost!
Why was he still here, getting humiliated? Why not just leave like the first time he tried?
Dugong Wallah looked at the little children sitting there next to the stubborn adults on both sides of the aisle. There were so cute and wide open to what he had to transmit. There were even pregnant women with their bulging bellies with little beings inside eager to get into this world. Eager to live in this world and not to die before being born into it. No, it did not feel right. He just could not leave. Not yet.
But how to accomplish his mission?
He made this effort to help them and they simply did not get it: The ancestral world view of his tribe with its powerful connection with all that lives, with its capacity to walk-about in Dreamtime was in this moment confronted with the non-comprehending view of the non-tribals. All their technological gadgets did not only not help them at all to get the essential message from All-That-Is, - no: It seemed to increase the atmosphere of disturbance, aggravating their loss of the connection to Dreamtime and the soul. He prayed for help to establish a bridge across the abyss between the two world views.
In this moment of need he doubled his effort to make contact with the only one of the non-tribals besides the doctors and nurses in that hospital, who had been capable of a deeper understanding of him and his tribe’s ways. That tall guy, who had been kind and showed a keen interest in his capacity to call on the dugong sea-cows – and they would actually come. Tall guy then had confessed that he tried since long to be in a similar communion with the dolphins – but with not so much success. He had been ready to learn from him. Yes! A white-skin, who was willing to learn from him the ways of the tribe. He could help to bridge the gap. He needed him here now in spirit for getting the message across: If the church crowd would not move soon and fast, they would all perish.
Lila was battling a multi-frontier war: She had to keep her own emotional turmoil under control, while gently probing into the difficult situation of Dugong Wallah without imposing her presence on him. Unobtrusively she had to work on building up a protective screen shielding the boy from the hostilities sent by some members of the congregation, who just did not yet manage to open up. Gratefully she felt the supporting energy of her three friends in this strange place.
She had the eerie feeling that the boy felt her presence. Of course. He was a natural in this realm. She sensed his dilemma like in herself: He was calling urgently for help, but he was unfamiliar with her patterns as with those of Kanta, Ulrike and Angela.
Indeed Dugong Wallah felt something. But it was at first not to his liking. He was waiting so much for the familiar atmosphere and essence of his friend. Something was there, but it was not the one he called, the one he was waiting for. He vaguely felt some supportive wave, but he needed the tall guy, the bridge!
And now: Another being with a child-like quality – easier to relate to… But hold it, along with it there was finally some male spirit…yes! It was him! Though he felt him wavering due to lack of experience in dream-walking, this male energy was good.
There was light at the end of the tunnel: Now at last there was a chance for bridge-building!
Ekkehard – or the essence of him minus his body – felt totally bewildered finding himself – or what was left of him – in this strange scene. In spite of his confusion he recognized the kindred soul of the island boy, who was called Dugong Wallah by the tribe. Something in him started to grasp the dilemma and the urgency. He was expected to be the missing link, but it all lacked clarity. Indeed he was wavering.
But he got help from his friends. He felt the supportive energy from Lila and her friends. In a moment of grace he was allowed to grasp the fact that this was not about being reunited with his big love in Dreamtime. This was something much larger. They all had combined their heart energy to overcome his clumsiness and had succeeded to drag him here. He finally remembered the keynote: Let go and be filled with unconditional love. Be a channel and trust the guidance. Yes: He could understand both worlds: The ancestral tribal view and the people from his “own” tribe. Let there be a bridge across the abyss between the two worlds, which seemed to be so incompatible.
Dugong Wallah gave a rare smile, because now he felt the tall one and recognized the others as his friends. Their essence was surrounding and supporting him, creating a kind of benevolent buffer-field between him and the strange atmosphere of disbelief in the church.
Lila was receiving the waves of emotions coming down on the boy from the churchgoers: Surprise, disbelief, mockery, thoughts of blasphemy, anger because of the disturbance and more...Some were indignant. Some started to get up from their benches, but the priest waved them down and requested silence so that he could speak to the intruder.
Dugong Wallah and his support team combined their effort of unfolding an emergency bridge to this priest, as he was the spokesman. A bridge on which he could walk towards an understanding of the urgency in this very moment.
"I note that you said sorry. But then why do you come again with your wild story and why should we believe you now more than last time, two days ago?"
"I cannot explain, so I say sorry.
But this is much bigger than me or you.
All-That-Is, what you would call the spirit of all beings and things, has spoken to us, to our tribe and so to me too.
All-That-Is has spoken that he loves all and we have to warn you again. This time he will send signs so you have time - very little time - to see and believe."
The priest observed the tribal boy keenly. He was normally not a man given to visions, but now he felt compelled to remove his glasses and wipe them on his hanky. Strange! Even with the clean lenses it almost looked as if there was something around the boy, as if he was not alone.
Was there some kind of a bluish light around him?
Out of the blue he picked up an incredible thought wave: What if this boy was right?
Suddenly it seemed possible. Something irresistible sweet reminded him of his duty of being a shepherd, who had the responsibility for all these lives in his flock!
Was it not the much better option to follow the boy out of the church and see? If the boy was mistaken, they just had made a little walk. No harm done.
But if he was right – my God! Then there was no time to loose!
The priest finally did have a brief vision: He saw a group of young people of mixed gender standing on a bridge. They were beckoning him to come. They were waving and singing the word “Yes!”
He was trying to digest all this.
The priest did not notice that in his excitement over the intrusion and disturbance he had touched the water glass on the simple pulpit with his elbow and pushed it to the edge. He just wanted to ask about the signs that were supposed to come, but as if the aboriginal had anticipated his question, the latter just pointed at the pulpit and at the altar, on which stood an antique, heavy brass candelabrum on a rather small foot. The choirboys had placed it a bit close to the edge, when they lit the candles.
The world seemed to tremble. The church trembled with it.
The glass came down first and shattered on the simple cement floor.
The priest looked down at the shards in disbelief. Did he push it down himself with the elbow? Suddenly he remembered having felt some tremors quite a while ago.
A second wave of tremors, more pronounced than the first.
The candelabrum on the simple altar was next. It crashed, the candles extinguished in smoke.
Shudders went through the church and up the spines of the congregation.
Suddenly there was total silence in the nave. One could have heard the proverbial needle falling.
"Earth is moving. All-That-Is was right as always: You will now listen to my speak, which comes from deep. We have a little time before the next Earth-moves.
- So you ask yourself: Why this man in his dirty old jeans is coming again with the same story? I cannot explain and I say: Sorry.
- So you ask yourself: Why this man comes again though we laughed, mocked, offended him? My pride as a hunter is hurt. I cannot explain. Sorry.
- So you ask yourself: How come this man and his savage tribe know things that we civilized people don’t know? I cannot explain. I say: Sorry.
- Let me tell you who I am and how I learned to speak some bad English. Yes?”
He waited patiently.
Silence.
The congregation was spellbound.
“You people have ships and houses and TV’s and all that. You have your government. Your government, - not ours.
We have no things like that. We are roaming in the forests, living on fruits, roots, honey, wild boar and fish. We are the Ongi, the Jarawas, the Andamanese, the Sentinelese, the Shompen and others.
Your government say will protect the tribes and our land, which was all good for so long, when tribes were alone on our land.
Maybe government means well, but there are those who take money. We no need money. My people do barter.
The lumber people come into our land with their machines and cut our big trees. They shoot our wild boar.
Your shaman priest wants to speak? He wants to say sorry? Because this church is built with wood stolen from our forest? Wood and gifts given from the lumber people thieves to some church people? No?
I say sorry and please let me speak more.
As boy bad fall, leg broken in three piece. Some of your good people take me to big house in your town, long time sick but later good healing. That time I see good things, learn speak your English. Electric light, books, video and noisy jeeps. Some people good to me.
But then I see: Small tribe coming to your town. They are naked. They always are. Your people laugh; give beer instead of food, mockery instead of respect. Have fun when my people pee and vomit on the street.
I learn a good word: Dignity!
But we tribes are one with nature, with All-That-Is. We know when earth is moving, when big waves will come.
The Hindu temple near here is on a little hill. That is wise. There praying people safe.
This church close to big water. Your shaman priest say: House of God will protect.
I learn more good word: Truth! So see who speaks wrong.
A brother from my tribe was dead in water of Dugong Creek. He made protest against lumber people stealing our land and trees. Your paper saying he drinking. Your paper speak wrong. We know why he is dead.
In our language no word for murder, no word for stealing.
Before your people came, our tribe life good, plenty food.
Your people came, take some land and our sacred Padauk trees, pushing our people away from good place.
Your people bringing church, priest, temple, medicine, liquor, chainsaws, sawmills and money.
Also bringing dirty water, mumps, measles, and syphilis. Many our women and children die.
Our tribes coming smaller and smaller. You say sorry when doling out food?
So you ask yourself: Why then this tribal man coming here, do warning-speak?
All-That-Is was speaking to us to do. So we do.
After this Earth-move more will come, Earth will move more to new path.
Maybe get rid of what in your tribe speak is called arrogance and learn from us to walk the path of dreams, find way to source you people lost.
Some of you will understand and live. Some will go to other side, to my brother of Dugong Creek.
I never speak so many words in my life. Time over.
Now I walk up on hill to my tribe. You all free to come along.”
Without further ado the young man walked out of the church.
For a moment there was utter silence.
A faint, distant sound became audible. Something unheard of. Like a muffled roaring. It came from the direction of the ocean. The sound was swelling.
People started running towards the exit, out of the church, following the aboriginal.
The priest waved to the choir boys, who stood mesmerized near the altar. He frantically screamed at them to follow.
And then the walls came down.
The walls of the entire village built around the church.
The little bell of the church tower tolled one last time, before it went down under the onslaught of the water masses.
While running uphill, the priest heard the bell. Breathless as he was, he recalled an image of one of his choirboys showing a book to him for approval:
To Whom the Bell Tolls.
New meaning to old words.
_______________________________
* Sri Aurobindo: “Man is a transitional being.
