~ * ~ The Oasis ~ * ~
There was this young man named Imiri. Imiri was a very Spiritually sensitive young man. he was always questing for truth, Peace, Understanding and all the virtuous qualities he thought would fulfill his Soul. Imiri loved to sit in the Garden and take in it’s beauty. . . the Fragrances, The Blooms, The Petals, The Buds the Colors and the Fruits were quite intoxicating to his “Inner Self”. After his visit to the garden he always felt better . . . for a while. One particular day Imiri was quite troubled and perplexed. Imiri had a friend whose words did not always ring true to his spirit. This day Imiri felt betrayed by his friend and though he looked for a lighted insight to his friend’s heart, Imiri became very vexed of spirit. Of course Imiri immediately went to his Secret Garden. There he felt safe and soothed.
While contemplating the situation and all that transpired, Imiri’s mind and spirit started to drift. Soon Imiri was fast asleep, deeply immersed in visions and wanderings. The dream deposited Imiri in a Desert. He saw himself crawling across the hot sand full of thirst. As the Sun grew hooter, Imiri found himself becoming more anxious and restless. His thirst and need for some salvation from this desolate desert increasingly grew. As the time seemed to hang upon his spirit, he felt drawn to his end. His spirit was wavering from a slight confidence to complete and abject destruction. Then he saw a distant grove. He gathered his fortitude to continue on. As he crawled forward, the grove seemed to get farther and farther away. As he was about to give up, he glimpsed to his left but another Grove. Again he crawled thorough the hot sands. Again the grove seemed to get farther away. He in a flash knew that these were but a mirage. At the point of giving up on his life, Imiri saw one more mirage. He knew at this time he must be completely delusional, but for some reason, this grove seemed different. There was a bright light coming from it’s midst. Imiri gathered his strength once more and trudged forward on his belly. The last thing he heard before he passed out was the trickling/ babbling sounds of a Stream or Brook.
Some time later Imiri awoke and found that someone was holding his head in their hand while slowly pouring waster across his lips. When he fully regained consciousness he realized that he was in a beautiful Oasis, much like his Secret Garden. The hand holding on to Imiri’s head and nursing him back to cognizance was that of his friend. Funny how life is, many times we do not find what we are seeking, for we do not diligently seek it. In the seeking of and judgment of others, we often are delusional about our expectations. We look for Oasis’ yet we are quick to embrace the Mirage as our truths. But . . . when it is all said and done, it is at the time that it counts most that we may be blessed to see the truth in spirit not only of others, but our selves. Imiri apologized.
(c) 2009 : William S. Peters, Sr.