The Light-Being makes his way out. From death to life, confinement to liberation. Light to light. Will he escape the fires of hell? Perhaps some day he will return, all knowledge and memory submerged. Or maybe he will advance, stage by stage, hurdling dimensions like the cosmic athlete, the astral pony. This point of departure comes to us all, sometimes before lunch.
If you see the Light-Being, stop him and gently take his arm. Ask him if he remembers where he's been, if he knows where he's going. He may get shirty and slap your delicate chops with the back of his light-infused hand. Don't get angry. Don't retaliate. Plant a kiss on his face and suck on the light.
Oh Light-Being, Light-Being, where are you? We love you, we miss you! Where on earth will you turn up next . . ?
If you see the Light-Being, stop him and gently take his arm. Ask him if he remembers where he's been, if he knows where he's going. He may get shirty and slap your delicate chops with the back of his light-infused hand. Don't get angry. Don't retaliate. Plant a kiss on his face and suck on the light.
Oh Light-Being, Light-Being, where are you? We love you, we miss you! Where on earth will you turn up next . . ?
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