Light on the Page

When light grows most intense and reflects on water, say a river or a stream, you may have the feeling that the water has no other being except that of light. Similarly, my life – my heart or soul – may find a new direction when its wholeness receives the outpouring of a greater heart. Then love begins to write in its own name, a universal language, and no sight or sound, however small, will escape it. And what I create, below, will have the same imprint as what comes from the very source of life, above.

There are different hearts, in truth. The real one is like a beating sun, and the fiercest fires rise from it, though it continues its habit of beating. And these flames are met by others, which dart down from the heart I loved first, before I knew any other. They touch and meet. To speak the language that any other man or woman can understand, no matter where they come from, may become a possibility then. Words arise which will never be used without love, which will never cheat. I may tell you my heart then, and everything that moves in it. And you will see that its beat was never made for repeating.

Found

The lightest water is pure reflection - 

it has no being except its higher part.

And my life reaches its own direction

when its wholeness receives a greater heart.

Then love begins to write in its own name

and not to lose a single sight or sound,

so what I make below will be the same

as that in which the source of life is found.

Beat

Only the fiercest fires burn from the heart,

though it continues its habit of beating.

And the flames are touched by others which dart

from the heart I loved first, slowly meeting.

Let them stay in my mind and bring me words

never used without love, never cheating.

May I tell you my heart, its moving herds,

and its beat, never made for repeating.

Best wishes, today,

Landar

© landar 2010. All rights reserved.

(Earlier in Henkal and Jonas:  Henkal is helping his young unschooled friend to become a zookeeper. Jonas has to pass an entrance test.  Each day, when they meet on the road, Jonas presents Henkal with a new subject he will have to deal with. Henkal is running out of time to sit his own scholarship exam at the university…) 

Chapter Three

The sixth day dawned – the final day on which Henkal could sit the exam for his scholarship to the university. And all his universal knowledge was sitting in his head, ready to leap into his pen that day. The sun rose on the same day for Jonas, who trusted in its warm rays to light him to the zoo and to his entrance test.

Henkal was prepared to meet his friend anywhere along the road. It didn’t matter anymore – the bridges had been passed, all the work had been done. As he approached the sixth bridge he fell in with many city-workers who were walking to work. No two people were the same – everyone’s step had a different meaning, leading to a different purpose. Henkal felt the hidden purpose in his own footsteps.

Suddenly, without warning, he saw every one of these people as his friend Jonas. They had the same hopeful expression on their faces, as if to say, “We believe in you, Henkal”. He shook his head, rubbed his eyes and saw – his real friend Jonas, standing a few paces away below the parapet of the bridge. “This is it, Henkal. Today’s the day!” said Jonas brightly.

Henkal shook him by the hand, like a man on a separate mission. “This is it, Jonas. My road goes up to the right, to the university. Yours goes to the left, over the bridge to the zoo.” “But Henkal,” said Jonas, a look of panic in his eyes, “aren’t you coming with me?” For a moment the world trembled before Henkal’s eyes. His friend and the bridge became a blur. “Jonas! Jonas” he gasped, as if starved of air. “You know I sit my exam today! Everything depends on it – the cities, the art, governments, civilization!” Jonas lowered his eyes. “Yes, Henkal, I forgot.”

Henkal felt dizzy. He took the sheaf of papers from Jonas’ hands – the papers they had prepared all week, to help Jonas in his test. “It’s all here,” he cried, “everything you need to get you through!” He thrust the papers back into Jonas’ hands. “I’m sorry, Henkal, I didn’t know,” said Jonas abjectly. He shuffled the papers together, turned round slowly, and walked up onto the bridge.

Henkal looked at his friend, who was, he felt, like the better part of himself. So trusting, so faithful, so sincere in his desire to be a zookeeper. He saw his friend’s footsteps slow down and stop. How could he have been so stupid? There was no way Jonas was going to pass the test. He could hardly read, let alone put together a legible essay! Jonas could barely string together a dozen words in a sentence! How could he sit before a group of zookeepers and answer questions or talk about a chosen subject? Henkal knew that Jonas would not be able to cross that bridge without him.

He saw his friend standing halfway across the bridge, unable to move, and he saw the loneliest thing in the world. Jonas was a natural zookeeper, he was born to it, and he couldn’t do it by himself. In his mind Henkal tore up all the papers they had written that week. He tore them up and threw them in the canal. He cried out, “Jonas!” and ran up onto the bridge to his friend.

Jonas turned and saw Henkal running towards him. His face lit up and he smiled broadly, no matter what Henkal had to say. “Henkal,” he said, “what is it?” “I’m coming with you!” said the other boy. “I’m coming with you!” “But Henkal! What about your exam?” “This is my exam! Your test is my exam! You are my exam! I’m coming too. We’re going to do it! You’ll do the test but I will be your hands to do the writing and your voice to speak. Do you understand?” “Yes, Henkal. Thank you.”

The two friends crossed the bridge together. They followed the road all the way to the zoo and were there in time for the entrance test to begin.

Jonas seemed to grow noticeably fuller as they entered the zoo. It was as if the colored birds, the scaly reptiles and the wayward animals were all waiting for him to understand them. His arms lost their floating movement as they reached out towards the creatures in the cages and enclosures. Henkal followed the signs to the main office building. He told the secretary that Jonas had come to take the test and that he, Henkal, was there to help. The secretary made them wait in a small room with pictures of zookeepers on the walls. It seemed they were there for two hours before one of the zookeepers called them in to the main hall.

The College of Zookeepers was in attendance. They sat in a row behind a long table. Jonas waved at his uncle who sat on the right. The uncle nodded back to him. The zookeepers looked very serious, as if they were determined to uphold an ancient tradition.

“Who is sitting the test today?” demanded the Chairman. Henkal nudged Jonas and whispered in his ear, “That’s you. Say, ‘I am’.”  “I am,” said Jonas in a tiny voice. “I’m sorry?” said the Chairman. “I am,” repeated Jonas a little louder. “And what’s your name?” “Jonas, sir.” “Oh, yes,” said the Chairman, turning to the uncle. “That will be the nephew we expected.” “That’s right,” said the uncle. “And who is this?” went on the Chairman, looking at Henkal. “I’m here with Jonas today,” said Henkal fearlessly. “I’m his friend. I’m here to help him. My name’s Henkal.” “Well,” said the Chairman, “we don’t usually allow friends. A test is something you do by yourself.” “Yes,” said Henkal, “but Jonas is different. He hasn’t been to school and he can only write a little bit. He doesn’t know how to talk in an educated way. I know it’s unusual but I’d like to write down the answers for him. He’ll tell me what to say and I’ll write it. And for the speaking part he’ll tell me what he wants to say and I’ll put it into words for him.”

“Well, that’s very unusual indeed. We’ve never done things this way before,” said the Chairman. He leaned over and whispered to the uncle. The uncle whispered back. “Your uncle has confirmed this,” went on the Chairman, speaking to Jonas. “And what do you think of the arrangement?” “I’d like Henkal to speak and write for me,” replied Jonas warmly. “He’s the best!” “But the answers will be yours?” “Yes, sir,” said Jonas.

So with the arrangement in place Jonas began the test. They went to another little room with a table in it. One of the zookeepers stayed with them. They began to write the essay on the chosen subject: snakes. Jonas did not stick to what they had said before. He told Henkal about all the hundreds of times he had handled the snakes in the desert. He made it very clear what the snakes wanted and liked and how they felt. Henkal nodded each time and wrote down what Jonas intended. He wrote it in such a way that the words were Jonas’ but the meaning would come through to the zookeepers. His hand seemed to be guided. They worked as one, Henkal and Jonas.

At the end of the hour they had a small break then sat before the zookeepers again. Now began the presentation on the animal of Jonas’ choice: the donkey. Jonas spoke softly into Henkal’s ear: his love of the animal, his understanding of its habits, how he could talk to it. Henkal put this into a flow of words and images which expressed exactly what Jonas meant. After twenty minutes the zookeepers were nodding enthusiastically.

There followed the questions and answers. Henkal needed very little from his friend to say what it was Jonas knew. He spoke with his heart and his mind and it was as if Jonas’ own experience was speaking. Henkal realized how much Jonas had learned while he, Henkal, had been in school.

Then came the nutrition and the habitats and the final rounding-up. The zookeepers spoke to Henkal and Jonas as if they were one person.

“Thank you,” said the Chairman at the end. “Will you wait for our decision?” The two boys returned to the little room they had waited in earlier. They waited for what seemed like hours.

Meanwhile the zookeepers discussed the case. “He really knows his stuff,” said one. “Who does?” asked another. “The boy.” “Which one?” “The boy taking the test.” “He loves his subject,” said another. “Who?” “Jonas.” “But did he speak?” And so it went on, with the zookeepers liking what the boys said and wrote but not being able to make a decision.

“I see we have a problem,” said the Chairman at last.

Henkal and Jonas were called back in. The Chairman addressed them both. “We haven’t been able to decide on a place for Jonas,” he began. Henkal felt a stab in his middle. “Henkal spoke and wrote for Jonas the whole way through. We liked what you said and the way you said it. We think that together you make one zookeeper. We only have one place on offer and one salary. We would like you both to take that place. We would like you to work together as one zookeeper. I’m sorry we can’t offer you two jobs and two wages. If you’d like to take this offer we’ll start you in the zoo tomorrow.”

Henkal looked at Jonas who wasn’t quite sure what was going on. He thought about himself and the university. He’d missed the chance. But what was more he’d felt a new life opening up for him when he worked together with Jonas. What did he have to lose? “We’ll take the job, sir,” he said.

And so it was Henkal and Jonas began their new career – one career – the very next day. They worked as one, Henkal talking and explaining, Jonas feeling and knowing what the animals wanted. They lived on very little but were happy. As time went by Henkal and Jonas developed a special skill as a zookeeper. People heard about them. They travelled and talked in other zoos about their work. They visited other countries. They made discoveries and taught about the animals. In short, Henkal found himself doing everything he’d wanted to do about civilization.

After many years they returned home to the village again. They walked back along the canal road, past the sixth, the fifth, the fourth, third and second bridges. When they came to the first Jonas stopped. “Henkal,” he said, “do you think – do you think we are noble yet?” “Noble?” asked Henkal in surprise. “Oh yes – I’d forgotten.” He thought for a moment. “Yes, Jonas,” he said, “I think we are the best that we possibly can be – until something greater comes along.” Jonas beamed a smile that would have lit up the entire sky and the two friends continued on their way home.

(There ends the story of Henkal and Jonas. Thank you for listening. If you have any observations or comments I’d love to hear from you below!)

Best wishes, today,

Landar

© landar 2010. All rights reserved.

Previously in Henkal and Jonas: the two boys discuss their ambitions – one to be a great scholar of civilization, the other to be a zookeeper. Henkal promises to help his less-bright friend but also prepares to sit his own exam the next day…

Chapter Two

“I’m going to the town tomorrow!” said Henkal impressively before the two boys parted. “Is it long?” asked Jonas, who had never been out of the village. “It’s easy,” answered Henkal. “Once you’ve left the village you just keep going till you reach the canal. The canal goes right into town. All I have to do is remember the bridges. There are six of them. After the sixth I have to turn right and go on up to the university.” “Six bridges,” repeated Jonas. “That’s right. And there are six days for doing the exam. You can do it on any of those days. I’m doing it on the first.” “Six bridges and six days,” chanted Jonas. And the two boys took leave of each other with the words ringing in their ears.

The next day Henkal set off bright and early, his head full of learning and his feet eager to take him into the future. It was grand to be out of the village! He thought of many things as he went – of stars and of cities, of governments and of works of art – and his feet ate up the miles. In no time at all he reached the canal and set his head straight towards the town.

Before very long he saw the first bridge, blue and low on the horizon. As he grew closer he saw a figure coming towards him. The figure looked familiar. The way the arms floated in the air as if they had a mind of their own was unmistakable. It was Jonas.

“Jonas, what are you doing here!?” cried Henkal as he approached the bridge. “Oh Henkal,” said his friend, “I had things in my mind and I couldn’t sleep. I came out early and ended up here.” He looked round. “The first bridge.” “It is that,” said Henkal. “What did you have in your mind?” “It was something else my uncle said. I couldn’t remember exactly.” “About being a zookeeper?” “Yes. I tried to write it down. He helped me. But I don’t know what it means. Henkal could you tell me?”

Jonas took out another scrap of paper and passed it to his friend. Henkal opened it and studied the indecipherable scrawl he found there. After a minute the hieroglyphs began to make sense. “Jonas,” he said, “I think this is about your entrance test. It’s what you have to do. It says,” – Henkal peered more closely – “write an essay on your chosen subject.” “Yes, that’s it!” exclaimed Jonas excitedly. “Tell me what that means.” “It means,” said Henkal, looking at his friend over the top of an invisible pair of glasses, “that you will have to write about something you understand very well. Something you know about, that you would choose to write an essay on. Something to do with zoos, I suppose, and what you find in them.”

“Snakes!” shouted Jonas immediately. “I’d write about snakes.” “Do you know about snakes?” asked Henkal in surprise. “Yes,” went on Jonas. “Henkal, when you’re in school I go out into the desert. I’ve made friends with all the snakes. I know what they do, what color they are and what they like!” “Jonas, are you very careful when you’re out with those snakes?” “Yes,” said Jonas. “I pick them up all the time. They don’t hurt me. I know what they want.” “How do you know what a snake wants?” asked Henkal. “I don’t know. I just do. I understand them and they understand me.”

Henkal thought for a minute. “Jonas,” he said, “snakes can kill you. But for some reason I believe you. Only it’s not enough to tell the zookeepers you know what snakes want. You have to put it in a way that will make them think that someone’s taught you properly about snakes.”

Henkal looked at the bridge and he looked at his friend’s warm smile. “Jonas,” he began, “I’ll help you get your thoughts together. Here – I’ve got some paper. You tell me exactly what you know about snakes and what they want, and I’ll write it down for you in the way the zookeepers will want to hear it.”

And the two boys sat down there and then at the side of the bridge and discussed everything Jonas would need to write in his essay about snakes. Many hours later they finished their work and Henkal was satisfied. “Jonas,” he announced, “I’ll go in to the university tomorrow.”

The night passed slowly for Henkal as he thought of all the things he would have to write in his own scholarship exam. But after every great thought the same strange thing happened – the face of Jonas appeared in his mind, golden and smiling, with the corner of the lips tightened a little by anxiety. This made Henkal uncomfortable – his mattress felt lumpy and he kept turning over.

When morning came the warm sun made Henkal jump up. He had nearly overslept. He wasted no time and hit the road with a piece of bread in his hands. The same route led him from the village to the canal. He reached the first bridge. The water made cooling reflections which rippled on the underside. Henkal thought again of the great things lying before him: the discoveries, the travel, the noble prize. Soon he caught sight of the second bridge, shimmering like a mirage in the distance. There was someone looking down over the bridge, arms dangling. Henkal caught his breath. It was Jonas. It must be. No one else would hang like that, as if waiting for nothing.

Henkal considered. He could go back and find another road. He could branch off into the country and hope to find his way round the bridge. But he thought, ‘a friend is a friend’ – how could he do that? Jonas saw him and came down.

“I thought I might walk with you a little bit,” said Jonas when they finally met. “Aha,” said Henkal. The two boys walked side by side a short way but the bridge seemed to keep pulling them back. “Tell me what you’re really here for,” demanded Henkal at last. “Well,” answered Jonas slowly, “I’ve got another message from my uncle here. I forgot about it.” “Is it about the same thing?” asked Henkal. “Yes,” said Jonas, “it’s about the zoo.” “Well, I’d better have a look,” sighed Henkal.

Civilization seemed to be growing smaller and the zoo larger by the minute. Henkal unfolded the piece of paper. This time the writing was in the uncle’s own hand. Henkal read it and handed it back to his friend. “What does it mean?” asked Jonas. “It means nothing good,” replied Henkal. He repeated the words from memory: “Oral presentation on an animal of your choice.” “Yes,” puzzled Jonas. “That means…” “That means you have to stand up, probably in front of all the zookeepers, and talk to them clearly, with examples, about an animal. A type of animal, that is, not one animal.”

Jonas pondered. “I know the bit about the animal,” he said. “I thought about donkeys.” “Donkeys? I don’t know, Jonas, I don’t know. First of all snakes and then donkeys. The zookeepers might think you’re a bit– a bit–” “What, Henkal?” Henkal had been going to say childish but he changed his mind. “A bit wise to choose something you know about,” he said instead. “That’s a good thing. You do know about donkeys, don’t you?” “I do,” said Jonas, “I know everything about them. I know what donkeys want and what they don’t want. The men in the fields don’t really know. When the donkey does the wrong thing they beat it to make it go back. But I know what the donkey’s thinking before it does it. If only they’d let me speak to it I could make their work much easier!”

“Yes,” agreed Henkal, quite interested despite himself. “But it’s a big job to speak to the zookeepers and make it sound as if you really know. I tell you what, Jonas, I’ll help you one more time. But you really have to pay attention and practise. Can you do that?” “Oh yes!” replied Jonas eagerly. “Thank you, Henkal!”

“Tomorrow,” murmured Henkal under his breath. “Tomorrow.”

“Jonas, that has to be everything now,” said Henkal before the two boys left each other that evening. “I’ve got my own exam to think about.” “I know, Henkal.” “Will you be ready?” “I will.” “When is your test, Jonas?” “In four days.” “Well, that should be enough time to be ready.” “Yes, Henkal.”

Henkal slept with his clothes on that night and was on the road in the morning almost before he was awake. In his twilight state he thought of bridges, of civilizations and – of Jonas. He couldn’t help himself. He really wanted to pass the entrance test – no, wait – the scholarship exam. Which was it? Donkeys and snakes were taking the place of art and government.

He wasn’t surprised and – although he wouldn’t admit it to himself – he was even a little bit pleased when he found Jonas behind the pillar of the third bridge. It was becoming a daily feature.

“Alright, Jonas,” he began, “I’ve got three more days to do the exam. Anything can happen in that time. This had better be important.” “It’s nothing, Henkal. It’s just something else my uncle said. My mother remembered it. It’s a word. She told me so I’d remember. What was it again? Hab-hab-habi-habitat. That was it!” “Habitat?” “Yes. Questions and answers. What does that mean?” “Well, Jonas, I think it means that you’ll have a question and answer session with the zookeepers on the habitat of animals. That means where they live, what they find to eat, what’s the weather like and things like that. How they fit in to it. What do you think of that?” “Oh,” said Jonas. “Right!” said Henkal. “Third bridge, third day – I don’t think I’ll ever get there. Here – I have pen and paper again. We’ll write down everything we can about habitats. I’ll be the zookeepers asking questions and you can be you answering. Ok?” “Yes, Henkal.”

The day passed. Henkal grew quite warm being the zookeepers. Jonas constantly disarmed him by saying what the animals wanted. It was clear his friend knew them all in some mysterious way – it was almost as if he could speak their language. But Henkal had to make it sound intelligent. He hardly noticed how much he had slipped into Jonas’ world.

The next day Henkal met Jonas at the fourth bridge almost as if they had a pre-arranged assignation. “Are you doing this on purpose?” he asked. “Oh, no, Henkal, it just seems to happen!” And, mysteriously, they met at the fifth bridge, as well, the following day. They covered nutrition – what the animals ate. Jonas was in no doubt about that but Henkal was at pains to make it sound scientific. And on the fifth day they reviewed everything they had discussed so far.

“Now!” declared Henkal finally. “We’re ready. Nothing can possibly go wrong!” “No, Henkal. Thank you.” “You go home and get some good sleep tonight. I will too. Tomorrow’s a very important day – for both of us.”

(That concludes Chapter Two. Keep following Light on the Page to find out what happens to the two boys on the sixth day – the day of the exam and the test…)

Best wishes, today,

Landar

© landar 2010. All rights reserved.

I saw the rose of love. From the deepest light it came. It brought all of color with it but red was its name. Our life begins in love and yet as souls we lead the lovers together. We bring, just as we are brought to life. But still the rose, five-petalled, brightens in the night and becomes our single being, its redness the gift from above.

Life itself brings many tears, as love will do too. Each one holds the prisoned colors which were once the bright thoughts we had of life before we were born. But a happy chance returns the flower of love to us again when we seek it through the tears. Then every color finds the secret flow of light which leaves the rose its redness, soft and clear. I saw the rose of love.

Rose

The rose of many-color shines as red,

which was in light itself a first-born thing.

We come from loving, leading as we’re led,

as lovers brought to life, just as we bring.

The rose, five-petalled, brightens in the night,

it chooses and is chosen by our love.

Married to its colors it took flight,

descending in its redness from above.

The Flower of Love

Love is still the lamp that shines above us,

and tears of light fall separately around.

They show the prisoned colors in their wholeness

where once the brightest thoughts of life were found.

A happy chance that led me through this night

to seek the flower of love in every tear,

but kinder still the secret flow of light

that left the rose its redness soft and clear.

Best wishes, today,

Landar

© landar 2010. All rights reserved.