The boy could have been born in any country .. not only Afghanistan or Pakistan, Iraq or Israel .. he could have been born in Europe or American ..
It is all the same!
With a sweep of his hand he pushed back his hair from his face. The sun glinted overhead. His sure hands gently gripped the rifle - or it could have been a knife - but in his case it was a semi-automatic. The elders had taught him that you have to hold the weapon gently or its aim is not accurate .. he waited behind the rocks on the ridge .. he leaned back against the trees .. and maybe because he was exhausted he fell asleep.
If a tank passed right under the rock he was hiding behind, he would not have heard it. If a fighter jet hit low across the valley, he would not have seen it .. as Aldar pulled the boy's soul up into the vibrant disk shaped craft.
Far below the boys body was slumped (asleep) against the large rock. The disk vibrated and swung slightly, as though it was gently floating on unseen waves. The boy woke inside a small circular room inside the disk. He quickly relaxed as though he was holding a weapon. Death is the way to the one .. the one .. the boy did not react as his spirit hands closed around nothingness .. where was his weapon? Where was his enemy?
Aldar observed him from the internal viewing screen. The ancient ones had no opinion about what is right and what is wrong action .. knowing how to live is not an opinion or something to be discussed .. it is what it is.
The boy could have been from any country in the Middle East .. or he could have been from Europe, Africa, Asia or America. How do you recognise where a soul belongs after billions of years? Down below, on the Earth, he could hold the weapon so gently, because his inner skills were healing, far-horizon journeys and bridging the worlds. He knew nothing of this. He only knew how to hold a semi-automatic so that it can shoot to kill in the most efficient way.
By 2010 brutality was embedded in the human mind and successfully spreading across the planet. There is no difference between a soldier, a gang member, a terrorist or a young boy hiding behind a dry rock surrounded by trees overlooking the edge of a valley. Every one of them had forgotten who they are .. and every one of them were living outside the protective field of their soul.
Aldar adjusted the indigo-blue field inside the room as the boy's spirit awoke. He would not remember anything of the encounter after they returned him to Earth .. but he would retain some awareness of his soul .. some tiny spark .. no matter how tiny.
The visitors were not interested in saving individual human lives, they were more concerned with saving souls .. as Aldar gazed at his fossilised self embedded in the strata of violence and despair .. Who will save you other than yourself across the mystery of time and space?
A beautiful indigo-blue star entered the Solar Plexus of the boy.
Far below, his hands twitched and quickly grasped .. at nothing .. the boy jumped up. Far below, a small convoy drove through the valley stirring up dust and sand. The boy pushed his back against the trunk of the tree. He tightly closed his eyes .. where was his gun?
Far below, all his other human selves passed through in a small convoy stirring up dust and sand. They would reach their destination, but they would not be as fortunate as the boy with-his-eyes-closed. They would go on to kill ..
.. and the boy?
He pushed his back against the trunk of the tree and heavy tears fell down his sun burnt skin .. his weapon was gone .. the indigo-blue light inside his soul twinkled in small busts so tiny that in a million years CERN would never have the capacity to locate it nor pick it up. It did not matter where his gun had disappeared to .. he knew without knowing .. his life had been changed.
The boy could have been born in any country .. not only Afghanistan or Pakistan, America, Iraq or Israel .. he could have been born in Europe or Africa .. it is all the same!
High above the valley, the disk swung gently within an invisible sea of nothingness ..
It is all the same!
With a sweep of his hand he pushed back his hair from his face. The sun glinted overhead. His sure hands gently gripped the rifle - or it could have been a knife - but in his case it was a semi-automatic. The elders had taught him that you have to hold the weapon gently or its aim is not accurate .. he waited behind the rocks on the ridge .. he leaned back against the trees .. and maybe because he was exhausted he fell asleep.
If a tank passed right under the rock he was hiding behind, he would not have heard it. If a fighter jet hit low across the valley, he would not have seen it .. as Aldar pulled the boy's soul up into the vibrant disk shaped craft.
Far below the boys body was slumped (asleep) against the large rock. The disk vibrated and swung slightly, as though it was gently floating on unseen waves. The boy woke inside a small circular room inside the disk. He quickly relaxed as though he was holding a weapon. Death is the way to the one .. the one .. the boy did not react as his spirit hands closed around nothingness .. where was his weapon? Where was his enemy?
Aldar observed him from the internal viewing screen. The ancient ones had no opinion about what is right and what is wrong action .. knowing how to live is not an opinion or something to be discussed .. it is what it is.
The boy could have been from any country in the Middle East .. or he could have been from Europe, Africa, Asia or America. How do you recognise where a soul belongs after billions of years? Down below, on the Earth, he could hold the weapon so gently, because his inner skills were healing, far-horizon journeys and bridging the worlds. He knew nothing of this. He only knew how to hold a semi-automatic so that it can shoot to kill in the most efficient way.
By 2010 brutality was embedded in the human mind and successfully spreading across the planet. There is no difference between a soldier, a gang member, a terrorist or a young boy hiding behind a dry rock surrounded by trees overlooking the edge of a valley. Every one of them had forgotten who they are .. and every one of them were living outside the protective field of their soul.
Aldar adjusted the indigo-blue field inside the room as the boy's spirit awoke. He would not remember anything of the encounter after they returned him to Earth .. but he would retain some awareness of his soul .. some tiny spark .. no matter how tiny.
The visitors were not interested in saving individual human lives, they were more concerned with saving souls .. as Aldar gazed at his fossilised self embedded in the strata of violence and despair .. Who will save you other than yourself across the mystery of time and space?
A beautiful indigo-blue star entered the Solar Plexus of the boy.
Far below, his hands twitched and quickly grasped .. at nothing .. the boy jumped up. Far below, a small convoy drove through the valley stirring up dust and sand. The boy pushed his back against the trunk of the tree. He tightly closed his eyes .. where was his gun?
Far below, all his other human selves passed through in a small convoy stirring up dust and sand. They would reach their destination, but they would not be as fortunate as the boy with-his-eyes-closed. They would go on to kill ..
.. and the boy?
He pushed his back against the trunk of the tree and heavy tears fell down his sun burnt skin .. his weapon was gone .. the indigo-blue light inside his soul twinkled in small busts so tiny that in a million years CERN would never have the capacity to locate it nor pick it up. It did not matter where his gun had disappeared to .. he knew without knowing .. his life had been changed.
The boy could have been born in any country .. not only Afghanistan or Pakistan, America, Iraq or Israel .. he could have been born in Europe or Africa .. it is all the same!
High above the valley, the disk swung gently within an invisible sea of nothingness ..
