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Just a Man....But so very much more.
I watched him from the peaceful shade of a tamarisk whose branches hugged the boundary wall of mossy stone. There I sat in seclusion waiting for the Master to speak. That's what they call him in reverential awe, but I'm a stranger to these lands so I keep quiet. I'm a man out of my time. A Chronicler of the Ages come back to see just how things played out. I won't interfere, nor try to change what will be. To alter time is to change fates, and nobody wishes to go back to an unrecognisable world. We all get that. But certain events in history just beg to be changed or witnessed.
He was taller than I thought he'd be, and looked younger than his years. But then I'd seen his mother, and she was still beautiful despite her age and mounting concerns. I'd gotten into the gardens by way of paying a bribe to a member of the family. I could have sneaked in but I knew the soldiers would be vetting the crowds. I didn't want to be linked to his campaign, I chose anonymity. And here he was far from his flock, talking to the skies and sounding so forlorn. It was turning cold and I could see the outline of his breath on the air, floating like plumes of smoke desperate to flee and disappear. He was such a plain man, so unimposing and unmemorable. It was only his presence of charisma and words that lingered in others. Not a King at all, an imposing figure others would relate to. But in his actions, his words and conviction he was indeed a Master, and they birthed a legend that was spreading.
"Friend, won't you come out from the shadows?" he said matter of factly. I wasn't sure how he could even tell from this distance that I was there. Perhaps it was the moonlight shining on my silver buttons. Or the sound of my pen as I chronicled my thoughts in the none existent light. The beating of my racing heart? The loudness of my thoughts? The straining of my senses to distinguish what he was saying? Any or all of it, but not that he might know from his omnipresent birthright. No not that.
"Friend, if you be not a foe won't you step out of the dark and come speak a while? I have need of company."
His deep tones rumbled my soul and shook me from my alarm. I'm an observer, nothing more. I represent the future of humanity, they could no more understand me here as I could fully them. Our worlds were poles apart, but still some things were all too familiar. Love, honour, hatred. I moved, feet shuffling and papers left hidden. My arms were spread in supplication, meaning no harm or interference.
"Sir, I'm sorry, I meant no disrespect. I'm just resting a while enjoying the groves in quiet contemplation." I say it in a soft non-threatening voice. He smiles softly. I always stayed far from his camp, never getting noticed.
"Yet you're here. And I too. Two small souls drawn to the light of this one event, an ocean of time between us." He was gazing off at some distant horizon.
"An ocean of time?" I asked.
He turns then, setting those blue-green eyes upon me, a smile beautifying his face. His beard was patchy I noticed, not a polished appearance at all. But he felt welcoming, friendly, trustworthy.
"You're a man out of time like myself are you not?" His penetrating gaze seemed to assess and weigh me in seconds.
"Perhaps you could say that." I was amused. He seemed to be in that way of speaking like close friends, no pomp and circumstance, just intimately relaxed.
"I'm a bottle on a vast ocean." He had tears in his eyes. I saw them welling, and he made no attempt to stop their flow. He continued without provocation.
"I'm a message carrier, and the words I bear have come from a Higher Power. We are not so dissimilar you and I. We both seek answers, though the facts are irrefutable." I let him have a silence uninterrupted, but when he didn't fill it I chose to speak.
"And what facts are they?"
To my amazement he reached over and touched my shoulder. It was as if he burned with the heat of a thousand bulbs, for an energy flowed into me.
"I am the word, so that all might better understand. You too write the word, so that Man may see clearer and know. Does that not make us kindred spirits?"
He kept his hand there, light and commanding. A physical connection rooting me to the moment and requiring a response. I couldn't say outright I was from a very different future, but I couldn't deny I felt a certain kinship. I spoke unsure of how to convey myself. I said;
"I try to understand so that I may better share with others what things really are like. To learn and grow, and to process what it means for us all."
His smile broadened. His hand took mine. Far off were the dying embers of fires and the very distant sounds of late night reverie.
"I too Friend. My own life is one reading and interpreting the message I've been given, so all may better comprehend. Our work is not so different. You are not so far removed, even if you are a man out of time."
"I feel it," I whisper quietly in contemplation. The honesty must tell in my reply. He holds me tighter, and warmth imbues me. At last he spoke.
"Mankind may grow in ways of science, but they will always be infants in matters of the spiritual. For the more they advance on such a great scale, so too they commit even greater attrocities to fellow man and Earth. You know it, and I have foreseen it, but still we cling to hope."
I nodded my head slow, I guessed our eyes were accustomed to seeing these things close up. He must have seen. I didn't mind, if he could show me his tears, I could reveal my inner heart.
"They call you the Master, yet why don't you avert the situation that comes? If you know of it, why don't you run?"
I was half willing him to take off there and then, to run and never look back.
"I can no longer run as you could redefine history. We are each playing out what destiny has in store. If you change what must not be changed, even for personal gain, who else might suffer? What devastation might ensue?"
He sounded so despondent. I realised then that he was a man alone, despite the many followers and fame that engulfed him. He was just a man, trying to do his best and resigned to what was in store.
I leaned into him, letting him know I was there. We stood like this a long while, our hearts beating in unison.
Then he spoke to me.
"Time has come. I go to my fate as you to yours. You shall travel over Time and reach your Age, and I will do likewise and reach Heaven. Tell them I was sincere, but just a man like they."
"And a Master?" I ask.
"No Friend, not that. Never that. There is only one Master, and none of us may lay claim to that. We need shepherds like you who teach us of our past transgressions and who learn from our mistakes. And Man shall always make mistakes. Bigger and bigger ones as you can testify to. This is just one more. It will be forgotten. I will be forgotten but we must do our best. Let each soul advance best they can, and be guided by those who have the wisdom to see."
And I wanted to tell him he was wrong that he was just to be forgotten. I wanted to shout that no way was his sacrifice ever going to be in vain. But I thought of that butterfly effect, and of the wars and atrocities that we had unleashed on the world despite his presence. Had we learned? Would my warning change his fate or that of millions of others? We sat in companionable silence until a crowd started to approach. In the distance I saw priests and Roman soldiers with their torches.
"Friend, you'd better leave," he said rising. "This bottle needs to reach it's final shore."
I fell back into the dark and the shadows. I retrieved my papers and I watched Yeshua go to meet his fate. I couldn't stay. I didn't want to witness what I know would come to pass, but I had to. I was here to chronicle the times, I was here to put the record straight. And in the margins of my notes I quilled...
"Jesus. Just a man...but so very much more"
© .Garry Saunders
#AloneInCrowd
He was taller than I thought he'd be, and looked younger than his years. But then I'd seen his mother, and she was still beautiful despite her age and mounting concerns. I'd gotten into the gardens by way of paying a bribe to a member of the family. I could have sneaked in but I knew the soldiers would be vetting the crowds. I didn't want to be linked to his campaign, I chose anonymity. And here he was far from his flock, talking to the skies and sounding so forlorn. It was turning cold and I could see the outline of his breath on the air, floating like plumes of smoke desperate to flee and disappear. He was such a plain man, so unimposing and unmemorable. It was only his presence of charisma and words that lingered in others. Not a King at all, an imposing figure others would relate to. But in his actions, his words and conviction he was indeed a Master, and they birthed a legend that was spreading.
"Friend, won't you come out from the shadows?" he said matter of factly. I wasn't sure how he could even tell from this distance that I was there. Perhaps it was the moonlight shining on my silver buttons. Or the sound of my pen as I chronicled my thoughts in the none existent light. The beating of my racing heart? The loudness of my thoughts? The straining of my senses to distinguish what he was saying? Any or all of it, but not that he might know from his omnipresent birthright. No not that.
"Friend, if you be not a foe won't you step out of the dark and come speak a while? I have need of company."
His deep tones rumbled my soul and shook me from my alarm. I'm an observer, nothing more. I represent the future of humanity, they could no more understand me here as I could fully them. Our worlds were poles apart, but still some things were all too familiar. Love, honour, hatred. I moved, feet shuffling and papers left hidden. My arms were spread in supplication, meaning no harm or interference.
"Sir, I'm sorry, I meant no disrespect. I'm just resting a while enjoying the groves in quiet contemplation." I say it in a soft non-threatening voice. He smiles softly. I always stayed far from his camp, never getting noticed.
"Yet you're here. And I too. Two small souls drawn to the light of this one event, an ocean of time between us." He was gazing off at some distant horizon.
"An ocean of time?" I asked.
He turns then, setting those blue-green eyes upon me, a smile beautifying his face. His beard was patchy I noticed, not a polished appearance at all. But he felt welcoming, friendly, trustworthy.
"You're a man out of time like myself are you not?" His penetrating gaze seemed to assess and weigh me in seconds.
"Perhaps you could say that." I was amused. He seemed to be in that way of speaking like close friends, no pomp and circumstance, just intimately relaxed.
"I'm a bottle on a vast ocean." He had tears in his eyes. I saw them welling, and he made no attempt to stop their flow. He continued without provocation.
"I'm a message carrier, and the words I bear have come from a Higher Power. We are not so dissimilar you and I. We both seek answers, though the facts are irrefutable." I let him have a silence uninterrupted, but when he didn't fill it I chose to speak.
"And what facts are they?"
To my amazement he reached over and touched my shoulder. It was as if he burned with the heat of a thousand bulbs, for an energy flowed into me.
"I am the word, so that all might better understand. You too write the word, so that Man may see clearer and know. Does that not make us kindred spirits?"
He kept his hand there, light and commanding. A physical connection rooting me to the moment and requiring a response. I couldn't say outright I was from a very different future, but I couldn't deny I felt a certain kinship. I spoke unsure of how to convey myself. I said;
"I try to understand so that I may better share with others what things really are like. To learn and grow, and to process what it means for us all."
His smile broadened. His hand took mine. Far off were the dying embers of fires and the very distant sounds of late night reverie.
"I too Friend. My own life is one reading and interpreting the message I've been given, so all may better comprehend. Our work is not so different. You are not so far removed, even if you are a man out of time."
"I feel it," I whisper quietly in contemplation. The honesty must tell in my reply. He holds me tighter, and warmth imbues me. At last he spoke.
"Mankind may grow in ways of science, but they will always be infants in matters of the spiritual. For the more they advance on such a great scale, so too they commit even greater attrocities to fellow man and Earth. You know it, and I have foreseen it, but still we cling to hope."
I nodded my head slow, I guessed our eyes were accustomed to seeing these things close up. He must have seen. I didn't mind, if he could show me his tears, I could reveal my inner heart.
"They call you the Master, yet why don't you avert the situation that comes? If you know of it, why don't you run?"
I was half willing him to take off there and then, to run and never look back.
"I can no longer run as you could redefine history. We are each playing out what destiny has in store. If you change what must not be changed, even for personal gain, who else might suffer? What devastation might ensue?"
He sounded so despondent. I realised then that he was a man alone, despite the many followers and fame that engulfed him. He was just a man, trying to do his best and resigned to what was in store.
I leaned into him, letting him know I was there. We stood like this a long while, our hearts beating in unison.
Then he spoke to me.
"Time has come. I go to my fate as you to yours. You shall travel over Time and reach your Age, and I will do likewise and reach Heaven. Tell them I was sincere, but just a man like they."
"And a Master?" I ask.
"No Friend, not that. Never that. There is only one Master, and none of us may lay claim to that. We need shepherds like you who teach us of our past transgressions and who learn from our mistakes. And Man shall always make mistakes. Bigger and bigger ones as you can testify to. This is just one more. It will be forgotten. I will be forgotten but we must do our best. Let each soul advance best they can, and be guided by those who have the wisdom to see."
And I wanted to tell him he was wrong that he was just to be forgotten. I wanted to shout that no way was his sacrifice ever going to be in vain. But I thought of that butterfly effect, and of the wars and atrocities that we had unleashed on the world despite his presence. Had we learned? Would my warning change his fate or that of millions of others? We sat in companionable silence until a crowd started to approach. In the distance I saw priests and Roman soldiers with their torches.
"Friend, you'd better leave," he said rising. "This bottle needs to reach it's final shore."
I fell back into the dark and the shadows. I retrieved my papers and I watched Yeshua go to meet his fate. I couldn't stay. I didn't want to witness what I know would come to pass, but I had to. I was here to chronicle the times, I was here to put the record straight. And in the margins of my notes I quilled...
"Jesus. Just a man...but so very much more"
© .Garry Saunders
#AloneInCrowd
