“…the whole framework of the universe does homage and service to him who thus purifies and sanctifies his senses.”—Saint Bonaventure, The Life of St. Francis of Assisi
They read the quote beneath a sky of stars, the Milky Way as backdrop shadow-light behind nearer stars arranged into near dreams and constellations shaped with accompanied story.
“Do you believe it’s true?” Emma asked.
“I don’t know,” Ryan answered. “I’m not there yet.”
Three days before, the drought broke. The heat died and rains replenished the hardened soils, unfurled the leaves stressed and straining grasses, and with change and rains passed; the world returned to condition of life and growth; and in the night, life-songs carried across air and open sky filled with universe’s light.
They gazed on universe’s light, peering upon ancient images and stories—knowing some, ignorant to most—and in the spread of light and dream, imagined forms and stories of their own, writing them onto heart to save and share, should they ever be alone and seek their light and memory again.
“I believe God and Universe do bless when our souls are right, but I don’t think the universe honors and serves the purified man, but maybe the purified man become more integrated into God and Universe’s workings, and by alignment, the purified man may help manifest Universe and God’s intents—not It ours,” Ryan spoke, giving form to cloud of shaping thought. “Maybe what the one sees as homage and service to the purified soul is really the soul bringing about fruition of a greater intent and design. The desire and design become one and the same, and such—it becomes, rather than a fight and forcing of what is not natural or divined.”
“How do you ever know?” Emma asked.
“We don’t,” Ryan answered. “Why would we want to? It’s our certainties that close our minds, what we know and cease to contemplate that close us off. Knowledge is not wisdom, and maybe our whole modern world gets it wrong seeking the first and failing to see how often it is accident, chance, and curiosity for mysteries that lead mankind to its greatest advancements. A world of fixed knowns, like any static body, ceases to live fully.”
“Did you pray to be here with me?” Emma asked.
“You know I did, but that we’re here is proof I have not purified and sanctified my sense, that I am drawn still to a component of body and spirit that is very much of and for the flesh; and still it is beautiful, Wonder, revelation, mystery and blessing—Creation should God so will. That we are here, and such a possibility may be, is not because we are pure. What holds in my heart is far from the purity of Saint Francis; but God has designs for all of us, and to Love in all ways is not an ugliness or mark of sin when aligned and lived in greater Spirit. There is always mystery. I don’t need to know, but I am grateful to be present to all of this existence.”
The centers of Emma’s eyes shone wide. Their openness filled with light and reflection of the Heavens shining back from surface of their face, and behind their image, Ryan gaze into the depths of her, drawn in aligned attraction.
They lain on their backs, staring on the stars, writing dreams and stories into light of the eternal.
On their backs, Ryan gazed into her depths again, and in the purified Heaven of her eyes, he realized, her questions were never of him, but of her. She was the purified soul. She was the miracle-maker; manifestor of moment and dream by prayers that were hers—prayers of a purified soul given homage and granted in honored alignment to Greater Will.
A star fell, and Emma moved initiating kiss; and beneath the open light of stars’ stories and dreams, written into Heaven, they became creation in unity of body and soul in embracement of miracle and ephemeral moment that is life granted gift to Love.