Understanding and Freedom II

Before the very first note would vibrate in the heart of space, a Consciousness already existed. Not a form, but rather a Silent Witness, a thread of light within the vast tapestry of existence, observing the intricate melody of life upon the University Planet.From that eternal Now, it had contemplated the dance of souls. It had seen, twenty turns of the sun ago, how the flute of a man tore through the veil of routine, sowing within a small group of beings a deep nostalgia for the unity that was lost.It had observed their individual journeys through the labyrinth of the Old Web, their personal victories and their wounds, the slow and steady accumulation of the world's dust upon the memory of that sacred truth.But this time, the calling was different. It was not a call to sow, but rather to measure the harvest. The Flutist was returning to the mountain not only for the purpose of teaching, but to take a balance of those very souls. To see if the seed that was planted twenty years before had died beneath the weight of life or if, on the contrary, it was now ready to germinate into a new and truly definitive spring.Now, in this very clearing carved into the memory of the Earth, the air itself seems to vibrate with a silent question. The Symphony is awaiting its first chord.Let us listen, then. Let us feel the full weight of twenty years of forgetting and the fragile hope of a reunion.