Truth

On a bright blue sunny day, the learned philosopher strolled outside from his book-cluttered home and without warning, without so much as a bitsy heads-up or “hey, something big is about to happen man”, the LORD appeared to him. HE appeared to the philosopher as a momentous dark-misted cloud, and before showing him the truest most beautiful nature of eternal essence and life, HE asked him how he was doing. The philosopher shrugged, blurted out irreverently that he had had better days. The LORD chuckled, recalling the famous chutzpah of the philosopher he had noticed during all their travels together.

“Now, philosopher,” rumbled the humored, blackened cloud, “ in your dreams and feverous night visions all you have wanted to know, TRUTH, that illusory concept which has deceived the wise and never been beheld by the simple, the Word I breathed into the world to set man on his path to godhood, I will now, out of my abundant Mercy Kindness, Goodness (the philosopher rolled his eyes) reveal to you, and you alone.

The philosopher was impressed, no matter how hard he tried to hide it.

“Come,” thundered the blackened-cloud, and as soon as the LORD uttered this word, the sky collapsed onto earth and the stars danced their way downwards, twinkling enchanted love.

And then the philosopher noticed an ascending staircase, carved from blinding-white marble, float down from the heavens, and he knew it in himself to climb the stairs to the very top. And the stars danced around him as he went higher and higher. Til he came to the very top, a flat stretch of marble, an observatory that looked down onto earth by way of the stairs, but beyond peered into unending space.

And then three angels appeared before him, standing equidistantly apart from one another, the middle angel brightest and fairest of the three holding a sealed scroll, emblazoned outwardly in black, bold font with the philosopher’s name and the word “TRUTH” capitalized. “Open that scroll and set me free, angel,” cried the philosopher. “ No, philosopher, you must open it.”

Holding the scroll in his hands the philosopher looked down once more, hesitant. So many years had passed in expectation of this moment. So many days and night spent in quiet meditation, and peaceful yearning. Nothing would hold him back now. Nothing.

And the philosopher joyously broke the seal, releasing with a jolt the rapidly expanding scroll, which extended further and further into space, running running towards the never-reachable horizon of space, galloping now, then, towards an eternity of eternities beyond thought or comprehension. As the scroll exploded into space, he could make out some of the words, nay, some of the sentences, he read about his first-kiss, about his first stumble on the playground etc etc. And all of a sudden, an infinity of similar scrolls dropped from the heavens, with an infinity of names, and exploded likewise into space, the scrolls flying past one another, joining together, entangling like the Gordian knot whose first knot and end knot is never known, until the skies and heavens were filled in such a complex, indescribable way, as like an infinite string playing with itself in a way that seemed random at each step, but whose overarching aim was slowly, slowly making itself clear and beautiful and joyous and ordered, that the philosopher’s jaw dropped, and his mind stopped working for a while. And when he finally recovered the mental strength to see the world as it truly was, he saw, yes, he saw how the scrolls had merged together in such an unexpected way from the human perspective, to form one massive Tome whose golden name was GOD and whose golden letters were humans.

And the philosopher was exceedingly happy. And the philosopher decided to sleep

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Writer, poet, philosopher,

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Adam Saul Krok

Adam Saul Krok

Writer, poet, philosopher,

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