Page Title

Beyond The Valley of Death

I sat quietly exhausted beneath the great tree,

I heard

rattling from among its branches. It was

the sacred serpent,

moistening the trunk's bark,

slithering around the tree's

branches

above where I

sat.

Greetings," said the serpent, "and welcome to

the shade

and

shelter of the great tree." The voice

was stern and

strong like the

voice of Father, yet

gentle and tender like the

voice of Mother.

"What do you want of me?" I asked the serpent.

Terror

gripped

me motionless. I feared both its

strength and its

tenderness.

"It is you," said the serpent, "who has found

yourself here

with

us. What do you want of us?"

"Eternal Life," my voice cracked, tremored, "is

my goal,

yet not

beyond this body and life of mine,

but while the blood

still flows

about my flesh and

bones."

"You have a noble desire but it shall cost," said

the serpent,

"nothing short of your body and life

here. You must sacrifice

all if

we are to deem you

suitable. Are you able and willing to

make this

ultimate sacrifice for the ultimate reward?"

"Am I worthy?" I asked, thinking I was, feeling

I wasn't.

"Yes," replied the serpent, "you are worthy.

The call of

the Way

whispers in the wind, glistens in

the tossing of

waves. All hear and

see it each day

but few have the courage

to step out of their

comfortable thoughts of what truth and

glory are

and begin the

painful humble journey to here. The

beginning is the arrival, really.

Of those who begin the journey, few stay with it

for long.

Back

there, that valley of shadows you

passed through for 7

days, that is

the valley of the

damned who could not bear the

horror of

experiencing the pain of everyone else before

them

who has fled

from the valley in doubt. We call them

“walkers,” for they flee back

out of the valley

before the

moans of the sufferings of the living dead

have brought them

to their knees as you were for

the last 6 days of

the passage.

At the moment that

the walkers turn and run, the sound

their terror

joins that of previous failures echoing endlessly

the

valley.

Yes, they are truly the damned for the terror

never leaves

them.

They simply go back to the

comfort of the illusion of

what life was

and each

day as the wind whispers to them and

the waves

glisten

before them, they shut their ears, close

their

eyes. They pretend there

was no valley, that they

had

never been there, never heard of the

place,

never responded

to the call. Yet deep inside, the

terror is their

master. They

flee from the terror into

desire. Desire is also their

master.

They are slaves of

the worst kind and woe to him who tells

them of

their slavery.

But you left no scream of terror, no moaning

agony in the

valley;

you remained faithful that you

would be delivered

from the

hardship. Here you are.

Your hands and knees are

bloody from their

burden; your hair is full of dust, your

mouth is

parched, your empty

stomach groans. Yes, with

you

we are well pleased; you are worthy.

Now your body must be prepared. Then you will

return to

those who

still live in the valley and led

them here to us.

Nothing else in your

life matters

now. Through this, Eternal

Life."

"Then what must I do now?"

The serpent slithered itself down the tree and

coiled itself

beside

me and looked at me. Its eyes

were pure white with

emerald green

square pupils.

Its skin was black, silk-like,

shining mysterious,

with

deep brown speckles. A

shimmering silver

thread ran from it rattler

tail along its

whole length

and up over its head, the silver thread

dividing

its forehead and extending to the very edge of each

of its

piercing eyes towering over me.

I began to panic and jumped to my feet to run

from

them.

"Wait," said the serpent, "childlike and simple

in its

appeal,

"don't go, they won't hurt you. They

prepared me

also. You won't

feel a thing. It is too

late to turn back now.

You have passed out of

the

valley. You can no longer turn

back. We can not let

you. We

need your service for the valley

has become

too loud and confused.

They need your help. We

can not go into the valley for they are not

of our

kind. It must

be one of their own." And I began to

feel sleepy,

needing

rest as I had felt as a baby from

just drinking of my

mother's

breast who was full

and content with Mother holding me so

very close,

my heavy head near the comforting throbbing of

her

heart, that which I'd missed for so much since

she'd cast

me out of

her precious womb, the womb

of woman. I

lowered to the ground

and fell into

deep undisturbed sleep.

And they came and they prepared me. While

they

prepared me,

in my sleep, my eyes opened

inward and there

was darkness and my

ears opened

inward and there was

silence. I was still and I knew,

knew time before time, space

before space, world

before world,

creation before creation as

it was

meant to be. I was awakened.

Awakened, I heard the screams echoing about in

the

valley, a

grand symphony of pain. How loudly

they screamed

shaking the

very stars in the sky,

calling out to heaven to be

rescued from the

burning building, the sinking ship. I could

see the

smoke rising up

out of the valley from their

burning. I

could smell the burning flesh.

I began the

long crawl to the

valley. A fresh ache tore at the

bottom

of my heart. The

partially healed wounds on

my hands and knees

were

opened by the rocky soil.

Tears flowed down my cheeks and

onto the ground

I crawled over. I was afraid I would not be

able to

help them.

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Can you help me?
Could someone help me?
I’m afraid. O God, I'm afraid.
Help me
This only I pray...