Seligor's Castle, fun for all the children of the world.
Mon, 06 Jul 2009
The Flower and the Simple Stone at seligorscastle Flora and Fauna|
The Flower and the Stone
A flower grew next to a stone, on a narrow strip of land between a forest and the sea.
"O Stone," said the Flower,
"it is glorious to open my petals in the sun, to feel the heat of summer and the coolness of the air upon my flesh."
"I to am warmed by the sun," said the Simple Stone.
"but my petals are slower to open. A million bright and perfumed flowers will flourish and die before I put forth my first tentative shoot or unfurl soft green leaves to a sun that you will never see."
Even as he spoke, the fullness of Summer pressed heavy beauty upon all the land, kissing each tiny flowers were turning brown, consumed, consumed in the intestity of Love.
After glorious Summer had kissed all the beautiful flowers he passed away over the edge of the world, and Autumn swept the fallen petals away on her red and golden winds.
Winter came and lay upon the Earth.
upon the trees of the forest, and the distant hills and mountains, upon the narrow stretch of land between the forest and the sea.
Underneath the pure white snow, the stone dreamed its long stone dreams and remembered the flower of summer.
Many summers and winters passed.
Autumn lost count of all the frail and beautiful petals that she carried away in her red and gold arms.
Finally the morning came of a long - awaited Spring and the stone put forth its first tentative shoot into the invigorating air.
As the sun rose slowly into the clear, crisp sky, it began to unfurled its delicate soft green leaves, turning this way and that as it grew towards the heat and light.
Already it had forgotten the many days and night it had lain as a stone in the womb of the earth,
baked by the sun, washed by a million rivers of rain, frozen by a million cold night.
Forgotten too were its dreams of conversations with flowers and insects, small animals and passing clouds.
Stones have deep great sympathies for things, but no great power of concious memory.
But now its time had come and it could wait no longer.
With a joyous shout , it opened the clustered bud of its long hibernation, exploding into a riot of subtle and glorious colour, a perfumed mandala full of a million deities that dances upon each petal in divine celebration of consciousness and life.
The full heat of the sun, the full heat of the season, bent down to kiss the beautiful flower, for now it was High Summer and the golden sun was at its zenith, so that not a single shadow was cast over any of the land.
A small stone lay in the earth next to the flower.
In the bright sunlight it shone
like a blaxing star.
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