The Garden (A Story)
Note: In the story below, the King is the Self; the Garden is Life; Gardener is Sophia, the wisdom; with wisdom, the king must build his earthy paradise. Gardener’s silent witnessing of the seasons is natural awareness. Witnessing the ever-changing seasons of the soul. The eternal flowing in the waters of consciousness. Gently, peacefully, nolens volens. The palace is the body. The Queen is the breath.
A great king once wished to make the greatest palace in the world for his queen; and the greatest garden around it. As the palace was built and ready, he wished to plant the garden. And he sought for the greatest known gardener in all mortal realms. The king wanted his palace and garden to be an earthly paradise. The wisest and most skilled gardener was found and brought before the king.
The gardener was a very old wise woman, and she agreed to create the garden as the king wanted. Selecting a nearby spot around the palace, she sat down. Silently. Winter slowly passed. Summer and then autumn, then spring. Colours changed, forms changed, birds met and departed, the muddle of water, puddle of dreams; falling and rising with the sun and the moon.
As winter again approached after a year, the snow of winter played in front of her like the carpet of life. She reached down to the floor, with both hands touching the ground. The woollen cloak covered her.
Then springtime again. In the mountains, the snow melted. Little streams flowing down to big oceans. The season's poetry in front of her. Clouds, the space and the stars, she greeted all.
One day she suddenly got up; meeting the king she said, she is now ready to plant the garden.
Flowers started to bloom, little ponds connecting with each other. Streams. Birds nesting on tree’s branches.
The cuckoo came. The peacock started to dance. Shrines of rocks and sculptures. Fountains almost from the heavens. The most beautiful lanterns are delicately made. Rare plants of all kinds dancing in perfect harmony. The gardener now had completed planting the garden.
It was the most beautiful garden in the whole world. The gardener walking with the King in the finished garden, said to him, this garden will retain perfection in every season.
Every plant, every bird, every insect would be the living embodiment of the balanced completeness. The leaves falling on the ground would form beautiful mosaic-like patterns of earth light. The fragrance of Lotus. Pavilion of healing rainbows. The fragrance would flow miles away reaching from the Himalayas to Sahara to Macchu Picchu.
Every season there would bloom flowers and the birds will dance. When it will rain, the streams would welcome the nymphs to bathe and rest. The squirrels play in the pine and cedar trees. Almonds and plums. Bamboo’s hum. No conflict will ever arise in this garden. There will be harmonious beauty.
The years will pass, tastes will change, heights and depths. The garden will grow ever-changing and transcending with time. The mystery of the garden flourishing in the divine. The beauty will always remain.
The gardener left saying to the King, even when you will pass, the garden will be the witness of your soul. And will remain forevermore, untamed and capricious, in naturalness.
The gardener was a very old wise woman, and she agreed to create the garden as the king wanted. Selecting a nearby spot around the palace, she sat down. Silently. Winter slowly passed. Summer and then autumn, then spring. Colours changed, forms changed, birds met and departed, the muddle of water, puddle of dreams; falling and rising with the sun and the moon.
As winter again approached after a year, the snow of winter played in front of her like the carpet of life. She reached down to the floor, with both hands touching the ground. The woollen cloak covered her.
Then springtime again. In the mountains, the snow melted. Little streams flowing down to big oceans. The season's poetry in front of her. Clouds, the space and the stars, she greeted all.
One day she suddenly got up; meeting the king she said, she is now ready to plant the garden.
Flowers started to bloom, little ponds connecting with each other. Streams. Birds nesting on tree’s branches.
The cuckoo came. The peacock started to dance. Shrines of rocks and sculptures. Fountains almost from the heavens. The most beautiful lanterns are delicately made. Rare plants of all kinds dancing in perfect harmony. The gardener now had completed planting the garden.
It was the most beautiful garden in the whole world. The gardener walking with the King in the finished garden, said to him, this garden will retain perfection in every season.
Every plant, every bird, every insect would be the living embodiment of the balanced completeness. The leaves falling on the ground would form beautiful mosaic-like patterns of earth light. The fragrance of Lotus. Pavilion of healing rainbows. The fragrance would flow miles away reaching from the Himalayas to Sahara to Macchu Picchu.
Every season there would bloom flowers and the birds will dance. When it will rain, the streams would welcome the nymphs to bathe and rest. The squirrels play in the pine and cedar trees. Almonds and plums. Bamboo’s hum. No conflict will ever arise in this garden. There will be harmonious beauty.
The years will pass, tastes will change, heights and depths. The garden will grow ever-changing and transcending with time. The mystery of the garden flourishing in the divine. The beauty will always remain.
The gardener left saying to the King, even when you will pass, the garden will be the witness of your soul. And will remain forevermore, untamed and capricious, in naturalness.
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