Peace in West Asia

The Journey

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We are in Afghanistan, searching for artists to make treasures for our homes.  This is the place for exquisite craftsmanship, although it takes time to complete an object.  We agree the style, the price and when it will arrive.

 

We travel west by train.  The land is vibrant, filled with the past and the future.  Up in the mountains we stay in a ski resort surrounded by spring flowers and walk amongst greens and snows.  Later, we are surrounded by archaeology and weep amongst the ruins for the dead of wars long gone.

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We journey further, to lands between rivers.  Hanging gardens cascade in froths of rainbows amid sparkling fountains and falls.  Birdsong flutters around us and we are soothed to smiles, fascinated by miniature natural generosities.

 

We stand on Mount Nebo, viewing the panorama of the Holy Land territories lying all around us, before going down to Jerusalem.

 

Duty done, we travel north to the Olympic and refugee villages.  They are quiet.  The Games are distant and few people need shelter from war and famine.  Instead, they are maintaining buildings, constructing a new stadium and updating the archives.

 

Beyond, we stroll with friends on Mount Hermon and take tea in a small cafe with expansive views and fine meals, a waymark on the Cedar of Lebanon trails. 

 

The finish is ancient Antioch where we bear olive twigs to the cave of St Peter. 

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Next, I will tell you of what happens there.

 

Peace be with you.

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The Cave

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We will dine together as the Twelve for the last time.

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The next day we will carry our peace offerings to the cave and request entry.  Passing into it we will feel its warmth, candles glowing in gentle darkness, our souls made safe.

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The sacred will be unwrapped from its silks and glint before us.

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We will gift it to each other.  When we receive; we will gaze into it and see ourselves within.  Cupped in our hands; we will come to understand power and its enticements.  Looking up; it is our choice how to give.  Hold on for longer?  Surrender sacred power to a fellow spirit?  Trust a less attractive fellow traveller?  There is danger too; is everyone honourable?

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If we are successful then...

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Our combined souls will weave themselves around our spirits and a jewel will be formed, unique to our Twelve.

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It will be our turn to inscribe our words beneath the Messages of those who went before us.  We may be tempted to write of the power of the human spirit but whisperings from the soul mean more.

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When our Message is complete we will return the sacred to its silken place and prepare ourselves for departure.  We will nominate one amongst us to read out our Message.  We will thank the guardians of the cave.  We will shake hands and file out to stand as one.

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We will hear our Message proclaimed.  The crowd within the enclosure will hear our Message.  The world beyond will listen to our Message.  Our jewel will sparkle beyond us and resonate within the people.  They will exhale in relief.  Their trust in us has been repaid.  We will rejoice and celebrate with them.

 

Our thoughts will turn to the future, returning to our homes, our lives.  Dispersed, but bonded to each other and the dozens before and after us, connected by the cloth of peace woven from the strands of our Messages.  For a short while we were the shuttles mingling our colours with all the others, actively knowing power and surrendering it to make something bigger and better than what we have now.

 

Together we made Peace and together we sustain Peace.

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Next I will tell you more about how we came to the Peace we enjoy today - so very precious because it was just a forlorn hope in the past.

 

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The First Message

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The first message was a whisper.

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Our job is to sail (not steer) planet Earth through space and time for a thousand years.

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Nobody was listening so no-one heard it.