Pilgrimage to the Altar of Rustling Words and Unbound Parchments

One day I was thus filled with longing
To behold in human form the splendours of ‘The Friend,’
To witness the Ocean gathered up into a drop,
The Sun compressed into a single atom…
~Rumi, Mathnavi

Pilgrimage to the Altar of Rustling Words and Unbound Parchments. Photo of a leaf and dew drops by me from a 2013 hike to the Shenandoah Valley.

Pilgrimage to the Altar of Rustling Words and Unbound Parchments. Photo of a leaf and dew drops by me from a 2013 hike to the Shenandoah Valley.

If a dew drop can contain the wisdom of the ocean, can a torn page contain its book?
Is a picture’s frame its safe sandbox or accursed shackles?
Is a note freer on its own or within a symphony?

What Does A Leaf Want?

What does a missing page want for itself?”, Andréana Lefton asks us in her third Letter to the Living (I could only hope there will be at least 19 of them, like the Báb’s Letters of the Living).

Let her gentle hand guide you on an imaginary pilgrimage to the altar of ‘rustling words’ and unbound parchments:

“And what does a leaf want? Only light. Only light, and a seasonal return to its roots, to touch earth before being ready to take in the light again.”

… A pilgrimage which will set your imagination free like the flying feather from the opening scene of “Forrest Gump”!

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *