Trip To Taize
In days long past, my school did a pilgrimage to a small land of peace and reconciliation, that lay in the nation of passion and revolution. As a community from nations near and far, we all ate simple food in the daylight flavouring the fresh air, allowing us all to discover joy in pearls hidden in fields. I listened and sang hymns of honey given by the monks dressed in white. Through the songs on my tongue, I tasted gladness of heart and peace in mind, though sometimes the words were a mystery to me. I spent my personal time in the chapel, sitting in silent worship amid polished stone with orange windows. I listened to the peace of flowing milk around me, and the occasional drip touching my tongue. I did not understand the divine flowing all around and within me, though I felt its gentle touch. It was a mystery to me, incompressible and veiled by my shackles. A mystery that I had not comprehended at that time, till I took a bit of fruit in years after. But the hymns of sweet honey and the flowing milk was but a faint taste to me. I was not a Christian back then as I am now. I was still led along by the hope of a New Age back then. Though the milk and honey were sweet to my tongue, I could not have swallowed the medicine they contained within. Yaldabaoth had chained my neck tight by his words and by his mirages of the desert, until I found the Tree of Gnosis that unlocked my neck and heart later in life. As such, the milk, honey or any beverage of the spirit were not my found treasure there, but the friends that journeyed with me. They were a mountain filled with greenery for me. Birds were tweeting in laughter, and the trees were rustling in chatter. Wind was playing games in the branches, and the sun was shining over this all. We all slept and hung out in tents at night when there was no blistering sunlight showering us. That was a mountain of friendship I never climbed before and never climbed up again. Only memories of the mountain peak of shining white remain. I can no longer see that princess of moonlight now, though I was closest to her on the mountain peak. I felt her cool breath amidst the stars, and I heard her laughter among the trees at daylight.
On the green mountain
With honey and pearly milk
Laughing with the moon
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