The Visions

The Vision of Windswept Fields

In windswept fields of ripening corn; in lush green meadows of dew-damped grass; in ancient forests of stately oak; in hillside copse of tangled broom — all things reach toward the Sun, in blind and relentless quest to unite with that which calls forth Life. That Nourisher of Life draws toward Itself all living things, which reach upward with unthinking grasp.

As this is, so too are we. That for which we reach, that ever-present yet most subtle aspiration, draws us ever upward and, untrammelled, brings forth blossom and the fruit of all our being, that ever-unfolding is a celebration of all Life itself.

Intangible, invisible, yet mightier than the strongest gale, to eyes that see, all things stand witness to the working of this awesome power. Nor can it be denied. Health, renewal, regeneration is the natural state — if I cut myself, do I not heal? Growing true and straight is the natural mode of being. Yet as the plant can be blighted and fettered, so too can we be hindered in our reaching for the Sun.

The tree, when bound around in growing with barbed wire, will in time enfold within itself that which causes stricture, yet still respond to that which calls forth life. The coastline hedge, when beaten down with unremitting wind and rain still seeks, despite all thwarting, to reach above. The field of wheat, when plagued with infestations of disease, each in their own way reaching for the Light, still struggles upward, all living things taking lines of least resistance, embracing into themselves that which cannot be shed, each shape being mute testimony to that which has hindered true and straight growth, till the burden of accreted dross, drawn itself by the vibrancy of Life, itself drains that Life and brings about the slow encroachment of the Dark. For as we reach to that which shines above, so too do all lesser forms reach to us.

Once seeing this wondrous Force at work we strive once more to reach toward the Sun, wishing gone all that hinders our growing true and straight, yet care must be the watchword in our wielding of the freeing blade; for the wire, once grown within the tree, cannot be taken lest mortal damage to the host entails. Nor can the hedge, bowed over by elemental force, be trained in truth and straightness from its roots, nor the field of wheat survive the sudden onslaught of good health — healing fire burns host and parasite alike.

Growing is a long-drawn process, so too is healing, and all starts from within. As we grow and blossom from the inside out, as that which calls us forth talks only to our deepest being, so our knowing climb toward the Light must start from the hidden places of the soul, such truth and straightness therein forcing change in the shape we show the world, that shape revealing us as we truly are, no matter what we seek to hide.

As we affirm the presence of this mighty Force, as we desire to reach toward the Sun, so too must we avow to embrace all that which enhances the natural state, and to reject all that which hinders it. And the natural state, devoid of all which stunts and twists, is to grow true and straight, healthy, self-healing, self-regenerating, transforming all gross matter into Golden Light. Whatever causes us to deviate diminishes us, and drags us down to lifeless lumps of clay.