In the dead of the night as she watched me cry. So she came and she sat by my side. She did not give me a shoulder to cry on. But she put forth questions to intensify my own dilemma. She was Wisdom and she narrated to me.
When this earth was nothing but an ant-hill, a light shone down from the heavens. And a man, a God you may call him, set forth to liberate his kind with selfless love. There arose a temple and a sanctorum for the world. The Sanctum Sanctorum of the Sanctum Sanctorum it was named. The word of Love was hence spread with a meaning far more sublime and great. This sublime fragrance of the flower blossomed and spread love in all its glory. And the destiny to unify with this fragrance was revealed, the flower was merely but an instrument for attraction and hundreds of people gathered to witness the flower. The fragrance was what was divine.
The flower merged with the elements and the bees went haywire. The hand which rocked the cradle was gone, but the cradle never stopped its rhythm. The rhythm never stopped but the eyes searched for the hand. Oh, the madmen searched for the flower. They searched the fragrance with their eyes. The madmen got confused and could not fill their nose trills with the fragrance that had never vanished. Those who looked for the well in the eternal sea drowned with thirst and those who bargained love for sacrifice drowned with bliss. This is the story that I narrate, this is the existence that you live in.
But you find the blindest of men nearest to the center of the light. Ignorance is Great. It brings the ignorant so close to the great. Yet the ignorant know not the divine plot that the universe conspires to help it uplift from its ignorance. This Great ignorance is blinding. What is it that you hurry for? For what haste do you spit on your brother? What veil is it that blinds the eye? Blame not the veil because it is your own will to ignore and your own resistance to act. While you consider the crowd to be in the right direction. You seek not your own answers.
The demon of this new world is foolishness. Not Greed nor Anger, but Foolishness tempts you the most. Every little act of foolishness you showcase, from dusk till dawn, reflects in your existence. This foolishness enrages the minds of even the calm and the air compounded with aeons of frustration, instigates the rage in you, suppressing the fragrance even more with the smoke. You think not about others, you ignore the factors, you entangle your emotions. You think not to think. You act on your will you say, on the heat of the moment you blame. You do not look back on retrospection. Lessons from the past are wisdom. Big words of virtues, I use. Discrimination, be the last of them. For I sleep alongside with your power of discrimination and your cry of dilemma bothers me. I am the Wisdom of your generation.