Sand and Foam by Khalil Gibran

I AM FOREVER walking upon these shores,

Betwixt the sand and the foam,

The high tide will erase my foot-prints,

And the wind will blow away the foam.

But the sea and the shore will remain Forever.

Once I filled my hand with mist.

Then I opened it and lo, the mist was a worm.

And I closed and opened my hand again, and behold there was a bird.

And again I closed and opened my hand, and in its hollow stood a man with a sad face, turned upward.

And again I closed my hand, and when I opened it there was naught but mist. But I heard a song of exceeding sweetness.

It was but yesterday I thought myself a fragment quivering without rhythm in the sphere of life.

Now I know that I am the sphere, and all life in rhythmic fragments moves within me.

They say to me in their awakening, "You and the world you live in are but a grain of sand upon the infinite shore of an infinite sea."

And in my dream I say to them, "I am the infinite sea, and all worlds are but grains of sand upon my shore."

Only once have I been made mute.

It was when a man asked me, "Who are you?" The first thought of God was an angel.

The first word of God was a man.

We were fluttering, wandering, longing creatures a thousand thousand years before the sea and the wind in the forest gave us words.

Now how can we express the ancient of days in us with only the sounds of our yesterdays?

The Sphinx spoke only once, and the Sphinx said,

"A grain of sand is a desert, and a desert is a grain of sand; and now let us all be silent again.

" I heard the Sphinx, but I did not understand.

Long did I lie in the dust of Egypt, silent and unaware of the seasons.

Then the sun gave me birth, and I rose and walked upon the banks of the Nile, Singing with the days and dreaming with the nights.

And now the sun threads upon me with a thousand feet that I may lie again in the dust of Egypt. But behold a marvel and a riddle!

The very sun that gathered me cannot scatter me.

Still erect am I, and sure of foot do I walk upon the banks of the Nile.

Remembrance is a form of meeting.

Forgetfulness is a form of freedom. We measure time according to the movement of countless suns; and they measure time by little machines in their little pockets.

Now tell me, how could we ever meet at the same place and the same time? Space is not space between the earth and the sun to one who looks down from the windows of the Milky Way.

Humanity is a river of light running from the ex-eternity to eternity. Do not the spirits who dwell in the ether envy man his pain?

On my way to the Holy City I met another pilgrim and I asked him, "Is this indeed the way to the Holy City?"

And he said, "Follow me, and you will reach the Holy City in a day and a night." And I followed him.

And we walked many days and many nights, yet we did not reach the Holy City. And what was to my surprise he became angry with me because he had misled me.

Make me, oh God, the prey of the lion, ere You make the rabbit my prey.

One may not reach the dawn save by the path of the night.

My house says to me, "Do not leave me, for here dwells your past."

And the road says to me, "Come and follow me, for I am your future." And I say to both my house and the road, "I have no past, nor have I a future.

If I stay here, there is a going in my staying; and if I go there is a staying in my going. Only love and death will change all things."

How can I lose faith in the justice of life, when the dreams of those who sleep upon feathers are not more beautiful than the dreams of those who sleep upon the earth?

The Road the less Travelled

In those moments, when you feel drifted by the wave of nostalgia, feel as if travelling in the thoughts along the paths of mind, in those moments you feel that a new song is being born.

The song that affects you, that skyrockets you, that leads you to the centre of heart.You contemplate how much long and solitary the street of your life existence was, although a lot of people surrounded you.

Along that street you started walking, you did not even know neither the beginning, nor its end.In this course of life, full of lit white candles, thus fiery ideals, luminous virtues, holy principles of an alive system of values that exists , but in the corner of the path unknown lurks.

Deep darkness prevails in the crossroad, but the light scatters the darkness and brings the drops of happiness.

A secret voice whispers in your ear, a vibration strikes in your heart, a message is recorded in your brain with golden letters:

"Go ahead!!! ......"

........and you go ahead in that street that engraves your soul, paints your glance with the paintbrushes of love and truth.

You go ahead even though people are sneering at you, because you chose this gnarled path and not the easy one, because you did not succumb to facilities depreciation and the trivialisation of moral values.

You go ahead beyond scorn and decay imposed in your familiar environment.

You go ahead beyond temptation and regrouping, created by conditions of life, because you believe in its entirety, in the unit but not in the "making mincemeat of people" and in the "compression" of personality, in the transcendence and not in corruption.

You go ahead in that street that most of people hesitate or deny; even if they deeply wish they could follow, envying those who in deep faith follow it.

You go ahead because you know the only one and unique thing: that you are ultimately lucky for being in this path, after bloody labours and insurmountable efforts, looking at "the marks of your destiny".

You are grateful, though you have ached innumerable times from the blows of your fellowmen,from the unforgiving injustices committed to you because, you were not polluted, you did not succumb and made the wisest choice:

You walk in this path, selected by you and not imposed on you, because you kept your personal agreement with your clear conscience.

You walk along the road, "the road the less travelled" and eventually you walk free and alone.

*** Dedicated to those who keep striving......

Copyright Katerina Kostaki

Spiritual author-freelance article writer

My article was published in " Postal World “ and "Kataigis" newspapers

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