To say that I grasped some spiritual import in these movements of our
bodies, realising that they acted out an inevitable meaning, is as true
as my convinced belief can make it. It is also true that in this, my
later report of the event, that meaning is no longer clear to me. I
cannot recover the point of view that discerned in our very positions
a message of some older day. The significance of attitude and gesture
then were clear to me; the translation of this three-dimensional
language I have lost again. A man upon his knees, two arms outstretched
to clasp, a head bowed down, a pointing finger--these are interpretable
gestures and attitudes that need no spoken words. Similarly, following
some forgotten wisdom, our related movements held a ceremonial import
that, by way of acceptance or refusal, helped or hindered the advance
of the elemental powers then invoked. In some marvellous fashion one
consciousness was shared amongst us all. We worked with a living
Nature, and a living Nature worked actively with us, and it was
attitude, movement, gestures, rather than words, that assisted the
alliance.
Then Julius took the hand that lay nearest to him, while the other she
lifted to place within my own. And a light breeze came through the open
window at that moment, touched the embers of the glowing logs, and blew
them into flame. I felt our hands tighten as that slight increase of
heat and air passed into us. For in that passing breeze was the eternal
wind which is the breath of God, and in that flame upon the hearth was
the fire which burns in suns and lights the heart in men and women....
There came with unexpected suddenness, then, a moment of very poignant
human significance--because of the great perspective against which it
rose. She sat erect; she gazed into his face and mine; in her eyes
burned an expression of beseeching love and sacrifice, but a love and
sacrifice far older than this present world on which her body lay. Her
arms stretched out and opened, she raised her lips, and, while I looked
aside, she kissed him softly. I turned away from that embrace, aware in
my heart that it was a half-divined farewell ... and when I looked back
again the little scene was over.
He bent slightly down, releasing the hand he held, and signifying by a
gesture that I should do the same. Her body relaxed a little; she sank
deeper into the chair; she sighed. I realised that he was assisting
her into that artificial slumber which would lead to the full release
of the subconscious self whose slow approach she already half divined.
Stooping above her, he gently touched the hypnogenic points above the
eyes and behind the ears. It was the oldest memories he sought. She
offered them quite willingly.
“Sleep!” he said soothingly, command and tenderness mingled in the
voice. “Sleep ... and remember!” With the right hand he made slow,
longitudinal passes before her face. “Sleep, and recover what you ...
knew! We need your guidance.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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