October 24th, 2020

A short story:
The feminine silhouette walked as translucent white through the battlefield cluttered with figures of dying soldiers. They too silhouettes but shadowed and without detail, their dark hands clawing and reaching at her moving legs. They were grasping for her knowing as she walked through this massive wheel of karma, for she was in it, but not of it. Little did the wounded understand that she is not in her knowing. The pure white figure is but the conduit for Knowing Itself using her body and words and thought and heart giving the illusion of a personal, inner authority to those reaching. For she knows that true authority is not personal. And so she walked, her heart illumined with care, the light of knowing and authority just out of grasp for the wounded parts, fragmented into darkness and despair. And as they grasped, some more than others, she was saddened by the pain, for theirs could be felt as hers. And yet she continued, knowing in action, not away, but forward, radiant and misunderstood.