The Ancient Bell

The Ancient Bell You have been drifting on the edge of sleep. Totally relaxed, totally at peace. What does this peace feel like? It touches the deep places within you with gentleness’ is the essence of complete safety. It allows you the time to dream wonderful dreams of faraway places. You are drifting on those dreams. You are the pilgrim about to discover an ancient and wondrous land. Are you ready to be embraced by your vision? As you open your inner eye you are aware that you are standing on the edge of a sunlit meadow. The warmth of the sun on your shoulders and your back is a welcome sensation. Your entire being is filled with warmth as your sight is filled with the natural beauty of this land. There is the scent of thyme and heather on the breeze. You hear the soft buzzing of the honey bees all around you. Before you a path unwinds silver and inviting. It is the pilgrims trail climbing up into the mountains and it draws you forward. There is something wonderful in every step you take. The ease of your body as you climb, the freedom of your movement. Every muscle inviting the challenge of the journey before you. You are climbing now. Breathing deep of the air as you climb. Opening your lungs to an intoxicating newness. Around you the land begins to change. You are entering an area of abundant growth. Wildflowers and bushes filled with berries frame your path. Soon you are walking in the shade of the beautiful trees. Sunlight filters on to the ground below creating dancing patterns of light and darkness. Beneath these trees there is life abundant. You here the footfalls and the rustlings as the animals come and go. Silently, breathing softly, walking gently you begin to see them. You are breathing to the rhythm of the forest now. How tempting it would be to tarry hear in the heart of the forest. Yet the trail before you urges you forward, onward and so you continue, letting your memory hold these impressions as a treasure. Higher and higher you climb through the trees until finally you pass from the shade and into the sun once again. Before you the trail seems to disappear into the mountain. A deep crevasse filled with shadow. There is a sense of hesitation within you and a sense of anticipation of this darkness. You step within the shadow and soon the crevasse narrows. The stone around you is the living earth, her bones revealed. Strata of color speak to the ages that have passed. With every step you are walking back into time a witness to the travails of the living earth. Bands of rose and charcoal, pockets of living crystal, a vein of gold leading you ever deeper until you stand before the entrance of an ancient cave, You have come too far to turn back and you pass into the darkness. It is soft in its embrace and filled with stillness. Step by step you travel forward into the velvet curve of an inward night. As you travel you begin to notice an amazing thing. Your eyes begin to see in a new way. Opening to the darkness to locate even the tiniest spark of light. The reflection of the sun far away and above but ever present. In this light you notice patterns on the walls. Areas of shade and color. These slowly reveal themselves as the sensuous shapes of leaping deer and lions. Their colors bright even in the dimness of this light. Their life force resplendent in its strength. Deeper and deeper your journey takes you until even the reflected light begins to fade yet some instinct calls to you to continue. Perhaps you feel the fresh breeze moving out and toward you in the darkness or perhaps some inner call is now leading you forward. Just as your fear would have made some sense it has left you and you enter the hall of trust. With that step you notice tiny and faint a glow of green before you. There is a sparkle of iridescent color bidding you to step forward. All along the walls of the corridor there are crystals reflecting the light of the distant sun. A rainbow of promise deep within the earth, a fantasy of light. Now you hesitate in your journey outward. You wish to linger within the womb of this magical light. The trail calls you forward once again leading you to a great arched way, leading you out into the light of the sun. You have traveled so high and far that you are seemingly above the clouds. Mist wreaths the ground around your legs. Following the path once more you pass between stones and into a valley. Some special force of nature has carved this protected valley. The reflected sun has allowed abundant growth here. Grasses and herbs nodding in the cool sunlight. The land before you is strewn with the foundation stones of an ancient temple. Once it stood proud and strong. Now most of the walls have fallen. Old arched doorways stand in silent testament to the grandeur that was once here. You enter one of these doorways and find yourself in what seems to be a courtyard. An old fountain stands dry and cracked. A stairway has fallen into total disrepair. You notice that there is a structure in the center of the courtyard. Here you find a fallen support for a bell tower. The bell has rolled into the weeds growing around the fallen stones. You feel an indescribable urge to set this support to rights. As you place your hands on the worn wood it feels like you have the strength to move mountains. The support begins to rise higher and higher until once again it sits firm and secure on its stand. There is still an ornate brass hook where the bell once hung. You gaze at the bell and as you do you begin to notice something remarkable. It seems as though the ruins around you are not as degraded as you first thought. There are still stones standing. Still gardens trying to come back to light. Perhaps it because the fog seems to be fading and the sun shines full and clear once again. Your focus is now on the bell. You move it carefully from the scrub. It is covered in lichen and moss. It is dulled with dirt and tarnish. Somehow it is imperative that you restore this bell. The lichen scrapes away under your hands. The brass can be rubbed clean. The sun lights up the metal with deep bronze lights and also reveals a fatal flaw. For the bell has sustained a terrible crack completely across and down one side. It seems that it may be silenced forever. A grief wells up within you. Despite this seeming flaw the bell must be replaced into the structure that allows it voice. You call on all your inner strength. Lifting, lifting until you feel the hook catch and the weight taken back into its proper place. The bell hangs once again shining in the sun. You place your hand along the side of the track and touch some place of warmth, compassion and reason within you. Your hand begins to warm and as it does the metal beneath your touch begins to soften. Like wax in the candles’ flam you slowly and gently press the sides of the crack together. They seal leaving only the finest tracery of silvery lines, almost like a rune on the metal. All around you now the ruin comes to life. You watch as the well once dry, fills with the water of life. You see the walls right themselves. You are witness to the trees filling with leaves the gardens filling with herbs. Every window, every path, becomes perfected. The old ones return in their soft robes. They continue their round of life. This becomes a place of life once again. There is one task left dear pilgrim. Can you guess? For a bell has one true function. Has been built for a sacred task and I leave this story to your conclusion of what that voice might be in this new, vibrant and living world. Blessed Be.