[Erika]

I'm aware most people won't understand this! But try!


Once upon a time, when all the books of religion that were, had disintegrated to dust and each went by his own word, there was a flower that sprang from a place no sane person would dream of - the desert. For some odd reason, it flourished there in the hot sands far from water during the stifling days and cool nights. And it was beautiful - soft to touch and pleasing to look at, a different color at each hour, without thorns or sticky sap. People came from miles around to look at the flower. Scientists came to name it, but they couldn't agree on a name or a usage for the plant, so they left arguing. Lawyers came on behalf of clients who wanted to sue for copyrights, but no-one knew whose flower it was or where it came from. Religious people came from all over the world to gaze at it and marvel at its colors and shapes, but most came to the conclusion that, since it was beautiful and the media were attracted to it, it must have been placed there by the devil, and some denominations even denounced it. A few TV evangelists brought theircamera crews, claiming that it could heal, but there seemed to be an invisible barrier around the flower, and it never healed. It just grew there, looking beautiful. Atheists stood around the flower in groups, analyzing it, mocking anyone who dared to mention GOD. Psychologists came to the desert to see a) if the flower was real and b) to analyze people's reactions to it. Some said it was a figment of the imagination, some said that it was an item of beauty, some claimed to become fit by looking at it and did their daily yoga sessions next to it in order to prove their point, and some said that everyone who stayed at the hotel at the edge of town was drugged and that the flower was an ordinary pink forget-me-not, and that someone was really making a lot of money out of it. But no matter what, no-one could find the person who had pollinated or, for that matter, placed the flower in such a place. Some scientists and doctors of medicine cloned a flower, but those flowers soon died if they even grew at all. There was intense media coverage for months before something else took everyone's attention away from the flower, and nobody even remembered it a few weeks later.
But one day, a small child ventured out into the desert. He wanted to see the flower people talked about and so went out in search of it. While he was in the desert, some people cam to him, telling nasty jokes about the flower and giving their opinions of it. The boy just looked at them and his cheeks flushed with shame, that anyone should so hurt the flower by lies and nasty jokes, and that anyone would so destroy something so lovely, meant to be treasured and looked on as a privelege. He never found the flower. It wasn't in the place it was meant to be, so he went home. In the village on the edge of the desert, that boy grew to be a young man and eventually went away to study in a city in an oasis, and became learned in the ways of men and knew things about flowers such as the one there had been such a fuss over, but never in any of the books he saw had there been anything about that flower. One day, the man who had once been a small boy discovered that he was jaded with the things of the city and wanted the simplicity of home and the desert places. So he packed his bags and set out for home. When he arrived, there was great mourning in the village of his birth. He stopped to ask why, and was told, "Several days ago, a man from the desert went out to see the flower of love. He searched the whole desert with a radar detector, and even combed the desert sand, yes every inch of it, with a fine tooth comb. And out in the desert, nothing was growing - not even a tree, no oases where there once were oases. All he found was this shrivelled leaf." -and the villagers held up a few pieces of what seemed like leather, but crumbled when touched. Some of the locals said that the plant's disappearance just proved that we are only on the earth to enjoy its carnal pleasures and to live for today - that there is no later on.
The man was shocked. He finally realized that his sadness in the city and disappointment in the ways of men had led him home in search of the flower he had heard of in his youth, the flower of many secrets and sweet hopes. He decided to set out for the desert himself, to seek an old hermit who was reported to be living in a cave somewhere. He took very little with him, expecting to be back the next day. However, a storm came up when he had been walking a few hours, and he was blown off his feet and confused, and something hit the back of his head and he fell down, unconcious.
When he awoke, he was in a cool desert cave alone, and though he called no-one answered. After a while he began to explore the cavern, and found that it was only one of many in a series of caves. All the caves were open-mouthed but one that was well-sealed, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't open it. He looked for something to tear it open with, but found nothing. Then a voice from behind him startled him - "Boy, what do you search for?" -and, turning to see an old man behind him, he answered, "I search for the flower of love. It has died and with it I too died in my heart. I have been dead inside for many years. I have learned all I could, and the more I learned, the more I yearned for this flower. And nowhere in the books I read and the classes I took and the lectures I attended did I find the flower or even a fragment of it. I heard of how it cannot exist and how only physical love can be anything close to it. The flowers in the books and magazines and on the posters cannot compare to something I have not ever even seen and yet long for! And I am sure that if I could only find it, I would be happy!" -and the old man studied the younger, searching for a readiness to know and an integrity worthy of truth. And then he stood and walked away without a word.
The young man sat silently, and felt the aloneness now that the other had left. He was sure that the old man had wisdom to share, and even knew where the flower, or one very like it, was kept. By and by he determined not to let himself get down, and got up, and continued trying to open the sealed cave's mouth. Slowly the seal chipped away to reveal a cunning door in the cave, but it was locked. Deep inside him, he knew that the hermit had the key and that no amount of force would make him give it up. He resolved to speak kind words and so obtain the key. The old man had suddenly reappeared behind him, and the two men stood face to face in silent confrontation. Finally the hermit spoke. "Boy, I have felt your searching from a city far away and I have brought the key to you. If you had given up when I left you alone, when I went to get the key for you, you would never have known there was a key, but you did not give up, and because you wanted it so badly, you shall have it." -and he gave the younger man the key, and the he opened the door. Inside the cave stood a treasure chest without a lock, and the man stooped to lift the lid and found it was too heavy for him. He turned to call the hermit, only to find that he was beside him already and together they lifted the lid. The young man stood in amazement and silence, taking in a new fragrance as he gazed. Inside the chest lay a glass box and in the box was a brilliant flower, one unlike those he'd ever seen before, and flames rocketed around it inside the glass, and he was afraid, yet longing. He picked up the box and held it close to him and to his surprise, the glass was cool to the touch. The hermit stood close behind and spoke wisdom. "Many have sought the flower and given it up for a cheap souvenir from the market place. Others gave up when they saw the plastered door, and still others never left their comfortable homes to search. Some even held the flower as you do now but turned away after leaving the cave. You will not, for you know that there is no substitute for peace." The young man stood quiet for a while, then asked, "But why did you remove the flower?" -and the hermit replied, "I spent all eternity preparing something to grant joy and peace to the hearts of mortals and to bring them close to me, for I want to love them. But when I placed it in their midst, they mocked it, made stories up about it, sang songs of it, told foul and nasty jokes about it, there was extensive media coverage and some of those who once knew me tried to use it for their own means. Some even tried to steal it and reproduce it. So finally, when I saw they would never welcome me or respect that which I have made, I made something else to amuse their small minds and they left it alone unattended for a night, and I took back what was mine and hid it here so that if anyone truly wanted it, I would give it to them." The young man reflected for a while, then said, "So this is mine now, but it is not. It is really yours, because you have made it, and you have suffered our hate and felt our mocking. And yet you live here among us, hidden yet unhidden, a hero but not a legend, whispered of but not believed, here to be found, like the flower of love." -and the old man said "You call it the flower of love, oddly, and it is that, for I suffered for this beyond your comprehension. But that is not its name. Its name is SALVATION." And the last word echoed in the cave majestic and terrifying, and the young man for a moment was afraid, and looked back at the old man. But the old man was not an old man any longer. There stood in his place a tall, young man with scars on his forehead in a crown shape and on his palms, and he shone so the other could not look at him, but so that his beauty was branded in the other's mind forever. Quietly he repeated, "Its name is salvation." And he blessed the young man and told him to carry the message of salvation to the village, and disappeared. The young man cried out, "But where are you to be found if you are needed!" -and from the corners of the desert it echoed back, "I am with you wherever you go." And the young man left the caves and found his way home, carrying the flower, and spoke of it to many. Though he was mocked and laughed at, where he took his memories of the flower, the fire of it burned in his face and in his life and people would listen to him.

[Erika]

The smile is genuine
The joy is gone
The heart is locked and guarded
By angels who do not sleep
I don't know where it happened
I don't know where I threw the key
But it's too far out of reach
For me

[Jared]

Normally I would refrain from reading your works. Normally I would refrain from reading anyone's works that are this long. Normally I would refrain from reading anything in this crumbling Roman empire of a forum.

But the title of this thread was much too antagonistic for me to pass it up.

First of all, I thought this story was O.K. It isn't difficult to comprehend at all, my Australian enemy. It held my interest for a good while, but slowly I was lulled to sleep. But alas, I persevered. I waded through the messy, superfluous passages because I love you that much.

If you are going to subject a reader to a story that long, please do not end it with an obvious, trite, moralistic message. Your slow-burn epic of a story is reduced to a cheap children's church memo by your conclusion.

["BrooksB"]

Originally Posted by Jared

Normally I would refrain from reading your works. Normally I would refrain from reading anyone's works that are this long. Normally I would refrain from reading anything in this crumbling Roman empire of a forum.

To whom will it fall?

[Erika]

Australian? If I wasn't so nice, I'd be more than rude about that, being a New Zealander, and New Zealanders not really appreciating their aussie counterparts...down here, that would be one of the worst things to throw at someone...but you didn't know that, so it's ok. and by the way, i'm not your enemy. you offended me first. enemy c**p aside...

sorry about the ending...you think i should take it out? it wasn't originally meant to be in there, it was actually *blushes* accidentally put on the end of it as the beginning/end of another poem/story, and I accidentally copy-and-pasted that bit as well. I kinda thought it would fit though...so left it there.

i wouldn't agree that it's messy or superfluous...but you're entitled to your opinion. and in your opinion, WHAT exactly would improve it?

Damn. I was having such a good day til the doctor rang to say i have glandular fever which i got from people not washing dishes properly at work

[Erika]

Breathe in the silence of Love
The fragrance of Peace
As Comfort fills the air
I know You're everywhere but I know it more tonight
So I will wait on my knees until You've spoken everything You'd like

I am listening
I can hear You in the water
I can hear You in the night-bird's call
And when I think of the way You caught me
By a star I remember
How You long to catch us all

Reach out to touch the sound or Grace
Hope like a river
The Emptiness has fled
Like a shadow it left when You came in here tonight
You took the pain I had sheltered in the darkest backdrop of my mind

I am listening
I can hear You in the water
I can hear You in the night-bird's call
And when I think of the way that You caught me
By a star, I remember
How You long to catch us all

And how the chains
Fell off so easy
Once You gave me the strength to hold on to You
I'm subject to a Holy Haunting
You'll never leave me
Once this life is through I'll be with You
There is a guarantee for life beyond

The void
(I am listening)
Once this life is through I'll be with you beyond it all
(I can hear You in the water)
This Holy Haunting that has held me unashamed
(I can hear You in the night-bird's call)
You're in the time around me once upon forever
(And when I think of the way that You caught me)
When I pause to survey the cross You nailed my sin upon
(By a star I remember)
I remember how You caught my heart and how You set it free
I remember
(I remember)
I remember
(I remember)
I remember
How You long to catch us all....

(I am listening...I can hear You in the water...I hear You in the night-bird's call)
Cause You were never in the city sounds
(And when I think of the way You caught me)
Your Son not sparing...
(By a star I remember)
Your Son not sparing...
(I remember)
I remember how You long to catch us all...
Your Son not sparing, I remember how You long to catch us all

[meatfinger]

Haha. You edit out crap, but left damn intact? Silly, silly Aussie New Zealander.

[Erika]

sorry. hehe. not much ruthless critisizing giong on here

[Erika]

Two here...untitled

1.
This royal throneroom is not what you'd expect
Not the sounds or the scents or the people
It could have begun anywhere in a palace or a rich man's home
But it's begun right here come look through the window

Can you see the glimpse of eternity
In the eyes of one who is smaller than you or me
He is here, he is here can you hear Him
His whisper is growing He is here listen to love

Little has changed in two thousand years
For the hope and the glory still remain in splendour
Did you miss Him for not looking or did you turn from the King
As a baby He was not very grand but there's something

Can you still see the glimpse of eternity
In the eyes of one who is bigger than you or me
He is here, He is here, can you hear Him call you
His voice is like thunder can you hear can you hear love?


2.
Oh you who have overseen the universe
How long was Your journey to here
Holiness wrapped in a blanket
These are the robes of eternity
And to come to the earth so helpless
Majesty calling to me
And the glory of heaven is here
Considering the wonderful possibilities...

With a purpose and a plan
Not according to earthly standards
With a hope and a promise
Not a dream made by a man
Eternity is immmeasurable
Because of the sacrifice made
And I cannot comprehend the glory
Since You came into this place

Oh you who are perfect made breakable
How far from perfection are we?
Ugliness hidden in evil
Still You have come further for me
You see my nakedness for I cannot hide
You see my selfishness for I cannot give
You see my pain...for I cannot heal
And you are torn by the thorns of my grief

With a purpose and a plan
Not according to earthly standards
With a hope and a promise
Not a dream made by a man
Eternity is immmeasurable
Because of the sacrifice made
And I cannot comprehend the glory
Since You came into this place