The next few days were hectic in schedule. The king and the warrior seemed busy in preparation, discussing plans and exchanging notes all day. As for our hero, Seth, with a lot of free time in his hands, he spent his mornings busy exploring the garden and in long conversations with his princess. The more time he spent in this place, the lesser he though of his world, which already felt like a fading memory. He only wished he could let his parents know that he was safe and in love. It was a strange feeling, to be in love. Seth felt so at ease that he felt he could share his most intimate secrets, dreams and aspirations with the princess.

After years of being ridiculed at being a dreamer, he had concluded that he was indeed different and an alien amongst the people of his world. All alone he would spend lone hours contemplating life and his purpose in the world.

The book he had been writing was his last connection with all that he had experienced that was magical and mysterious in life. It had kept him sane in a world insane after money, fame and power. He recalled the senior editor of the publishing house rejecting his work. If only there was way to go back, he would shout it out to his parents, friends and the world, that magic exists, and that he had not been crazy to believe.

Ever since his arrival into this magical world he had felt he was finally on his way to discovering his true identity. He had once asked the king ‘what’s the truth’, the king had answered, ‘truth is an experience and is not something to be believed, told or read in books. The blueprint of the destiny of each man lies in that sacred space within where no thought, conditioning or emotions can exist.’

Seth was curious to know more about this inner space the king spoke off. The king had promised, ‘Each question asked will be answered, but the answer to all your questions lie within. Mediate on this and you will understand’. Seth resigned himself to the fact that no answers were forthcoming from the king. Maybe the answers do lie within, he pondered, but where.

Seth and the princess spoke often during their long walks through narrow well hidden paths. A new world was opening its arms to engulf him, a world of discovery and experience, a world of love and feelings. The more he shared and spoke, the more he felt unburdened and free.

One day while sitting under a tree, Seth, total in his relaxation was watching the clouds move across the vast expanse of the sky meditating on his past life, his passions and his relationships. He was searching for answers which would explain the unexpected turn of events in his life. While in midst of his deep thoughts he felt an urgent need to pen some of them down so he would not forget. He promptly removed a pad of paper from his pocket and started to write. It seemed the pen was moving on its own accord and the words forming on the paper had a life of their own. He was bewildered. As he watched the pen form line after line, he surrendered to the unknown power that was taking him over.

Unknown past
It burns within
Of betrayal
Of pain and of hurt
Of pleasure and of sin
Hidden wounds they reappear
Cause me to tremble
Cause me to fear
Memories with no face
Feelings with no name
Have taken me over
And cause me shame
What had I done?
What has happened to me?
Why is a loving heart
Still burdened, not free
How to heal a wound
That trusts not the heart
Once betrayed in love
Scared to hurt again
Or did I betray in love
And give my love but blame
Hidden waiting to be found
Time it seems is now near
To cleanse the burden of the ashes
Loves angels here
Give me courage to face
All that was lost in fear
Give me love to forgive
All that was near and dear

By the time he had finished writing he was overcome by a powerful urge to cry. This was the first time he had written anything so beautiful and poetic. He could see memories of his early life so clearly as if he was watching a silent movie. A dark mist which had clouded his eyes was being lifted and he felt unburdened and free. He sensed his pain, anger, jealousy and hurt had all been a part of life’s mysterious endeavor for him to learn. He felt much lighter as if a huge burden had been lifted off his sagging shoulders. He was filled with gratefulness for this gift he had received.

Over the next few days he wrote often.
The poetry came in the form of answers he had seeked to all the questions which had preoccupied his mind forever. It seemed as if each leaf and flower was created by this universe to inspire him. The chirping of the birds was a symphony for his higher understanding. Every loving moment became a song in praise of his beloved.

Even the whispering of the wind told tales for him to learn lessons of a world that existed beyond his mind. A lost world that had existed within him. An inner world he was coming to slowly perceive and understand. He felt blessed and special, a seeker of the ultimate treasure.

Once I asked of the sun:
Why does shine so brightly
Casting us your loving bait?
What summits scaled?
What depths fathomed? Have we
That you celebrate
Tiny our peaks and shallow the seas
Where seek us, our treasure
Does not the ultimate lie, in deepest
Ocean, on highest peak?
Thus spoke the sun:
I speak no ill, for yet
I am to scale my highest peak
To fathom my deepest ocean
So how to judge you?
Seeked have I, for eons
My highest, my deepest
To find one still higher, and …deeper
Judge not others
Or pride in your tiny hills and
Muddy waters; I cast my love to humble
And the vain, for me to share
My warmth and light, that
They may melt their hearts
See they may my treasure

He would recite his poems to the princess and they would spend hours sharing the joy and understanding it brought to both of them. He had never been happier. What surprised him was that even the king seemed very pleased with his poetic progress and would often spend long hours reading and rereading his poems with the uttermost of attention.

Writing a poem was treated like a pass-time, a mere hobby, back in his world, not something that serious people did. Though he had personally never be interested in writing poems back home, he had read many biographies of poets who had died alone, weary and poor as they felt they were not understood. Seth now understood that poets have always been a subject of misunderstanding. Their art was not just fancy dreams and mere flowery words, but secrets shared by heavens and the earth.

For long we dreamers, have heard whispers
of secrets between heaven and earth; in solitude
to lie of many things yet said, to make merry
of our misery
Surrendered, have I, to the Spirit
Who speaks a strange tongue; now I speak
her language that I may learn; no more the ink does dry
For I write in blood
No more, my words tremble, to please
A passing crowd; save my longing speaks
Within me
this be my journey
where few would hear, and fewer listen
I speak so my ears hear, and my heart …listen
I have set my sights beyond man
Where gods raise their eyes, to meet with mine
Infinite, boundless, limitless… our possibilities
Not a poets dream, I give you

He felt spiritually connected to each poet born before his time and each poet yet to be born in the future. He felt his early life had been wasted in pleasing people around him and in trying to impress them. Though he was loved by his family and friends, in his heart he had felt lost, as if some crucial element was missing in his life. Over time he had resigned to the fact that maybe there was something lacking in him.

This feeling of being inadequate to accept the world and its religious, social and moral codes of conduct had affected all areas of his life. His relationship with his parents, friends, his work and his past relationships with girls, all had seemed false as he himself felt he was not being real in fear of feeling judged or condemned. The false was seemingly more appreciated and valued than the real.

I desireth, the admiring eye
Who bears witness to my success
And failures, with vigilance
Yet they no awake, than I
I craved their fire to burn within
But what give he, who is poor
With weary heart, I smiled their smile
That forgotten have I, to laugh my laughter
Yet pleased none
Many faces have worn
Many a part played
Many have I loved in vain
Many a innocence was slain
And nothing have I gained
I awoke, mask less, naked from the womb of
Love; the first ray of sight, blinding, then clear
I learn to trust my eye, that I may see
For the first time, My truth

Through his poems he felt could express the unknown feelings which rose from his unconscious mind as daydreams and fantasies. As the poetry flowed, Seth felt happier and fulfilled with the new direction his life seemed to be taking. He was the poet, love had given him wings to fly and life was his muse.

He had everything he had every wanted out of life, right here, right now.