Time

"Time is moving so slowly, Prophet. I'm in the same place I was yesterday."

The Prophet chuckled at the Child's impatience.

"No you're not, child?"

"But I don't see any progress. I think I'm moving, but every time I look up it looks as if I'm in the same place. Time is standing still."

"Trust me, you're moving Child, and let me assure time isn't standing still." The Prophet said.

"Then why don't I see that I'm moving toward my goals?"

"Child, there has been many who started out as you have that  thought as you're thinking right now."

"Did they make it?"

"Of course, they did. Sometimes they faltered, one or two even fell, but they kept on going, even though they didn't feel any movement."

The Child pondered over what The Prophet had said.

"Maybe, they didn't have a Prophet, like I do, to help them along the way." The Child mumbled with a sigh.

The Prophet bent over in fits of laughter. When he had calmed down, he said, "Child, they had help. They too had to learn the timing of their own drumbeats in order to see progress. You're not alone in your quest."

"Do you mean they had a Prophet too?"

"Of course."

"And how do you know they had one, Prophet?  Were you there?" The Child asked.

"Child would you like me to tell you a little story?"

"Oh yes, Prophet," The Child said, forgetting her question. "I love your stories. They seem so real."

"Then, once upon a time, darkness and water covered the earth…" The Prophet began.

Shalom,

Pat Garcia 

Quest

"Quest, oh, this is my quest," the Child sang softly.

"You haven't sung that song for a long time, Child," The Prophet said.

"I know. Tonight it struck me that I've been on the way for quite a while, and this song rose in my spirit."

"Sing a little bit louder. It is balm for my soul."

 The Child raised her voice and sang with fervor,

"This is my quest,

To follow that star,

No matter how hopeless,

No matter how far."*

The Prophet joined in with his baritone, and the sounds of harmony from the two voices calmed the ocean, and the whale closed his eyes as it listened.

"To fight for the right,

Without question or pause,"

To be willing to march into hell for a heavenly cause."*

The Prophet began humming as the Child sang on to the end.

Silence hovered over the ocean, The Prophet, sitting wordlessly on the lily pad, the whale asleep, as the Child whispered, "Do you think I'll make it, Prophet?"

"I have no doubts you will, Child. Why do you ask?"

"Sometimes it seems so hard."

"And yet with each difficulty you display an indomitable spirit to keep going."

"That's cause I have you, Prophet," the Child said, and she yawned.

"Let's say we have each other, Child."

"But you don't need me, Prophet." The Child mumbled.

"Oh yes I do, Child. I need your ability to laugh at yourself, your tenacity, your trust, and your faith to live a fulfilled life with purpose."

"Zzzz," The Child replied. "Zzzz."

 The Prophet chuckled. She had fallen asleep.

"Sleep my Child," The Prophet said tenderly. "Tomorrow is another day."

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

*The Impossible Dream. Songwriters, Joe Darien and Mitch Leigh; Published by 
Lyrics © HELENA MUSIC COMPANY

Kindness

"Kindness becomes you, Mr. Whale," The Child mumbled while asleep.

Dawn had slowly lightened up the sky, but the Child, exhausted from the last struggle with the mean-spirited wave, was still sleeping on the whale holding on to its dorsal fin.

"Where are you, Prophet? Where, oh where, where are you?" The Child sang softly as it slept.

"I am here, Child."

"Where?"

"Ahead of you?"

The Child awoke thinking it was a dream.

"I don't see you."

"Look again. I'm ahead of you."

The Child looked out onto the vast ocean. From a distance, a fire was burning.

"What are you doing, Prophet?"

"I'm preparing breakfast. How does fresh fish sound?"

"With hot oatmeal?"

The Prophet let out a barrel of laughter.

"No oatmeal Child, but a nice hot bowl of tasty seaweed mixed with a tangy sauce."

"Oh Prophet, you can't imagine what I went through," The Child said as the whale neared the lily pad. Sliding off its back, the Child walked on the water to the lily pad talking excitedly. "I flew through the air with the whale, and we mastered two giant waves."

"Three gigantic waves, Child, and before the third wave you cried."

"Who told you?"

"Child, wherever you are, I am. You are never alone."

"How far do I have to go, Prophet?"

"Come eat and then you'll sleep comfortably on your lily pad."  

"For how long, Prophet?"

"Did you enjoy conquering the waves, Child?"

Shalom,

Pat Garcia

Initiative

"Initiative," whispered the wind, "initiative."

"But, what if I do the wrong thing?" The Child yelled back at the wind and cried out, "Prophet, where are you?"

The ocean, vast and wide, The Prophet was nowhere in sight; the heaven, blue and sprinkled with white cumulus clouds, echoed the Child's voice. Alone, yet not alone, unable to see or hear the beloved friend, emotions of helplessness flooded the Child's soul.

"Initiative," repeated the wind.  "Take initiative."

"Prophet," yelled the Child, "Where are you? Please, come back and tell me what to do."

The wind grew stronger; the ocean stirred, and the whale lay asleep with the perplexed Child on its back, frightened.

Suddenly, the largest wave the Child had ever seen began to grow in the shape of a funnel.

"Where are you, Prophet?  Where are you?"

"Initiative," whispered the wind, "take the initiative."

The wave rose and began to spin, gathering speed as it turned.

"Okay, Mr. Whale, either I win or lose, succeed or fail, but I am going to show that wave it can't scare me away," said the Child.

"Initiative," sang the wind, "Take the initiative."

The Child crawled behind the whale's dorsal fin and hugged it, and with legs stretched out, the Child let them down forcefully and struck the whale on both sides.

The whale awoke out of its sleep and bucked up in the air heading directly toward the woven spindle of water coming at him.

And the Child knuckled down, holding on tightly to the whale's dorsal fin.

Shalom,

Pat Garcia