The Teacher Responds  

(Would Wisdom seek to teach its source?  Daughter, Do now what I bid you, and all will be clear in the end.)  

When did I call you?
Self called ‘Knight of low estate,’
With what humility did
My Father bid so seek me?
Is He now so weak
 As to call on the ‘advice’
Of you?
To what pledge do you respond?
From what darkness of your soul
Did you summon such a dream?
That I would bid you come from your
Peaceful dreams to fight for me?

 
No one finds me
In fighting  
Nor in surrender
Fool,
Do I know you?
Fool,
I know you not, 
Fool, Nor have bade you Fool,

Rise from your bed of self imposed death. Fool,
Would you promise to redeem me?
Fool,
 From what?  
Fool,
From what prison? Fool,
 Is your pride so great?
Fool,
 Do you imagine yourself as a savior?
Fool,
You, can hardly stand taunts of truth?
Fool,
How could you be my 'Savior?'
Why would the daughter of God on High require a savior?
 
  Then the skies were your voice,
I heard the laughter,
The derision, I wept.
 I saw a small flower,
White, Pure,
My eyes looked skyward,
I saw a City, I remembered your words so long ago:  

  (Father mine, now the scales fall from my eyes as well. But will they ever fall from Hers? Yes, Father, I’ve Come to understand exactly who she is. But why?)  

Heart of my soul, 
The God within us 
Calls to holiness
 Beyond our Understanding.
My soul leaps When it hears your voice,   
As a child, 
Within its mother’s womb.
It is as the thirsty pilgrim sees the oasis rising from the red and burning sand,
As the wandering, lost seek their home in God, 
In the 

ONE WHO IS, 
So does my soul reach for you.
For in you I have seen that which was lost so long ago 
That time has long forgot that once it was.
 
As once more we crossed the stream of fire before the temple gate
Your sweet voice sang out the prophecies so dire,
I denied, 
 Cried never.
Went about my business,
Went To and fro among the sons of man.
Spoke to
HE WHO IS AND WAS
But to return,
 You
 Were gone.
 
(Why could you never learn, I was where you sought me not, I was not where you quested in your vanity T’was your heart I feared, though it pains me to admit it here.) (Father, is she remembering—or are they doomed again?)  

In your place there was emptiness,
Nothingness,
 Death of feeling.

I wept that I would never again sit with you,
Ne’re again hear the harps play
As you walked the fields
While children danced at your Sacred Feet.
I screamed
 
I AM WHO AM,
 
 I Love your daughter,
 
(In vanity I boasted of love not true, but all consuming In its rejection of the vision I sought Or thought to seek, Yet, when HE WHO IS, Will speak, then even fools will sometimes hear)  

  Then Seek Her Out Again.
Remember That Wisdom’s
Madness Is
Mankind’s Shame.
 
 
Now I arise,
  Gather my cloak about me,
As a warrior, yet I stand, not broken,
Not cowed.
I remember Jerusalem, the Holy City,
Her Alabaster walls reflecting the
Eternal Light of
Your Father,
I stood, not clear, but knowing that I somehow

For a moment, dreamed a phantom kiss
Upon my cheek,
 Wiping tears away.
  Son of evil,
They called me as I sought you,
Corrupter of youth,
They cried,
Liar, darkness’s Lord,
 They named me
Knight of love’s true journey 
The name I was once hailed
Was as ashes in my mouth.
In my heart’s dead core
 There grew a feeling,
A dread, that never would I see
Your fairness again.
 
(Or was it gratitude that he would no longer need to truly seek you,  But could run away from the love he claimed? And, daughter, tell me this, was of you he spoke, or the one he called “Your adopted daughter?”)   (Father, can we not do away with this deception?  We know who sent her, And who tortured her so badly she would not know him, Though in deed her soul might depend upon it, if you so willed.)  

That my true father’s name was what drove me,
Concealed you,
Derided me.
Go up, old bald one, go up. The children mocked me,
Yet I would not yield,

I would not curse them as they wished.
Go away, old man, they said
 I heard you
In their words so cruel,
Look upon yourself, you old fat
 Fool.  
 I heard,
It did come from myself.
 
(As in ages past Father, again you torture him with the fear that He is the son of the evil one—why must this be?)  

  (Child, dearest, be silent and observe, you will soon Know all things but one, for even Wisdom can not know all things.)