Contents-
Prologue
One
Two
the Zero
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Epilogue

Listen.
When the night lays heavy upon the land. Listen. When moonlit silence floods across the paused expectant night. Listen. When silence spreads taught but will not break. Listen. You will hear it. Distant at first, half remembered, half heard. Listen. It grows as the breath of wind on a winter�s night. Listen. It rises and echoes in the hollow of your heart. Howling�a hurricane. Listen. It rises screaming, a child awakening from a nightmare in an empty house. Listen. You cannot stop it now. It fills you. You shake, you fall to the ground and clutch your chest. It grows. The silent scream rises from within you. The scream is in you. The scream is your soul. Listen. You want to run. You want to hide. You want to open your mouth and give it a voice to echo in the night. Curl in a ball. Hold it in. Ride out the inner storm. Slowly it fades. Slowly you release your grip. Gently rise again to your feet. Slowly forget...
Until the next time. .

Then the days will flow one into another, waves on the outgoing tide. Then will weariness reign in your eyes, drawing the lines on your face deeper still, as the weight of the ordinary crushes the last light that you know as hope. Then the aloneness you carry will forever eclipse your travel-worn heart. And you will wonder why you undertook the journey.
Then, the very world will look unbearably known. Populated by masquerade masks. Covered by a thin veneer of easy lies. And you will wonder, what price sight?
Then, you will pass through the world untouched untouching, a ghost. Then, wearied beyond words by the burden of night�then you will find yourself on the border of the secret kingdom. And if you are lucky, or blessed, the angel bathed in fire who stands a half pace behind you, will step forward to stand on your right side and speak to you these words.
"The silent cries of empty nights, I alone hear. The scream of your soul as it falls with a broken wing, I alone know. You sought truth in the ancient desert, but truth is not enough. You have learned how to die, now you must learn how to live."

There is always the war, constant as time, constant as breath. The great need of it to be, can never be fully realized, can never be held�for it is action. Life forever lies in its domain, the battlefield.
Take up your weary arms again. Take up your weary place at the fore. March on. March on. Stand. March on.
Stand, torn banner in hand, as the earth trembles beneath the cavalry�s charge. Stand, though heaven and earth recoil. Stand, unarmed. Stand, alone. Stand, as a thousand enemies, a thousand deaths, each loud as thunder, race as one dark tide toward you. Stand, upholding the torn banner. Stand, until the last instant. Stand, until death crushes you. Stand in the hope that you can preserve the light for one minute more.

"We have found," the doctor said, "in performing the autopsy, that your soul is incomplete; missing a piece if you will. I do not wish to alarm you, of course, all souls are in that condition. We even have a name for it. We call it the Zero.
"In most cases it has been bandaged over. Wrapped up in some ideology or dogma. I bring this up because we found no traces of that in your case. It must have given you trouble.
"Normally I would simply recommend a new dressing of some sort, some being more effective than others. In your case, however, the Zero is particularly pronounced, and if I may say so without being offensive, unsightly.
"Which is not to say there is no hope. Our scientists have been working for quite some time on replacement parts. Quite a bit of effort has gone into the project. Unfortunately, the results so far have been unsuccessful.
"In spite of great technical progress, we have not as yet determined what purpose the Zero was to have served. The manufacturer being understandably difficult to second guess.
"However, your case, being unusual, may be the one that provides us with the vital clue we lack to solve the problem. Your full cooperation will be required, of course.
"Why, just this morning I was informed that a new prototype was ready to be tested. I think your case would be ideal for such research. We would of course need to keep the subject for observation through the trial period. But think of the benefits to you if it is successful! The problem of the Zero solved. Yours would be the first completed soul in history! Imagine! That unsightly gaping hole in your soul would no longer give you any trouble, you would finally be content.
"I can see that this is all moving a bit too quickly for you. But I�m sure in time you will see this is the best course of action.
"Just consider the state of your soul when we found it, crashed into the rocks with a broken wing. Surely you don�t want that to happen again. Let us help you. We want to help you.
"Well, think it over. I�ll be back."

You can never leave the war. As you move through the world a covert agent, protect your cover. You have no orders of course, no mission, no guidance. You have only your duty. You must not fail.
Move among them. Love them. Don�t forget your duty.
Live your life. Work your job. Don�t forget your duty.
Live in darkness. Live in shadows. Don�t forget your duty.
Hold to the edge of the moment. Stand ready.
Don�t forget your duty.
You can never leave the war. Stand vigilant. In many simple ways, in many simple actions, you will be called to preserve the light. Don�t forget your duty.

Preserve the light, lest darkness fall.

When you wander through the land lost, dragging your decaying soul, the days will pass with the vague terror of half-remembered nightmares. And when you are weary, when your will to take another step has slowly faded into habit. When a stone you could easily step over bars your way. When the pain of each moment bites through you�if you are lucky or blessed�the angel bathed in fire which stands half a pace behind you, will step forward to your left side and whisper the secret so quietly you will not be certain you heard it at all. But it will echo through you and if you do not heed it you will be lost. But if you hold the secret tightly it will save you. If you listen to the secret as it echoes through you, you will feel its strength and you will know where it is you must go.
You can never understand the secret, never fully know it. You can only live it. For the only word whispered in you ear will be "Love."

It is said at times in low voices as the fire-shadows dance, or in soft whispers on lonely nights beneath the moon, or in unsung songs of mothers to their children in arms, that there is a time when you will be called to bear up the world�s vast weight.
No matter how many times or in how many ways you are told, no matter how long you have had to prepare, you will hesitate and protest.
You will say, "Why must the world be upheld?" The answer is always, "To keep it from falling into darkness." And if you say, "What of Atlas?" The answer is, "You name yourself, you are Atlas." Or if you say, "What of the fifty, the Tzaddikim?" The answer is, "You name yourself, you are Tzaddik." Or if you say, "What of God?" The answer is, "You name yourself, you are of God."
You will say, "Why me?" The answer is always, "There is only you." And if you say, "Why me alone, why does the burden not fall on everyone equally, then it would be light." The answer is, "Many cannot, many will not, many do not. You must take up the burden for all of them though you bear the whole weight in your heart alone. There is only you. You are Atlas, you are Tzaddik, you are of God! You are creator, preserver, destroyer. You must bear up the world to keep it from falling into darkness."

As you come to the cliff edge by any of a thousand different paths, you will look down upon the rocks and know there is always a price. It is not an exchange, it is a part of what you become. You have dragged your breathless decaying soul to the place of descent, the screaming, the broken wing�you have returned to the place of the fall, but cannot again fly.
You will look over the edge and know all that you have done, all that you have endured, all of that�was simply a prelude. You have pushed yourself to the edge, now you must go beyond.

Yes, your heart will say, she did poison me. Yes, and it is done. Yes, and she coiled a viper around me. And yes, it will strike and poison all who come near. Yes, and it is finished. Yes, and it is done.
But you have let the poison sit to stew and bubble in me. And you have let the viper stay. And you have let the poison harden me into the likeness of stone. Yes, and it is finished. Yes, and it is done.
Now you pretend that you are stricken, and bear a grievous wound. And you pretend that you love no more. And you pretend that you are wounded and have no cure. Yes, and it is finished. Yes, and it is done.
Thus you have come to the end. Thus you have come to the finish. Thus you stand lazy, awaiting some one to heal you. Thus you are a fool. Yes, and it is finished. Yes, and it is done.
Yes, she did poison me. And yes she did coil a viper around me. But you hid in deepest dungeons your love, and kept the wound always by your side. You have buried that which can heal you, and only prize your pain. Yes, and it is finished. Yes, and it is done.
For the only way to transform the poison into some wondrous elixir, is to do that which you fear most. You must love her. You must feel compassion and understanding. You must forgive her. You must do again that which made you vulnerable.
You must love your enemies � or you will become them.

As you stand on the edge and feel the pull to earth, the wind which breaks upon the cliff would seem to rise you up. Yes, it is the very breath pushing you upwards, and turning, you see the stars calling. All that is, joins in the chorus of the wind, pushing "Go." And you want to jump into its heart and be carried to the sky. But the wind pushes "No, you have here too long stayed. It is past time, you must go!"
And the truth is a long time coming, you will never fly again.

This is what you shall tell them, when they ask.

That�
They are more real in their suffering than in their joy.
There is more in their hearts than in the whole of the world.
Love is the only aeternal thing which can be lost.
Life is vaster than can ever be known.
They have wings that they may fall.
They are the dawn.

And if you are lucky or blessed, you will live in the Heart, and everyone you pass by, you will want to nudge gently, as if to wake them, and whisper in their ear: "God," or "Joy," or "Beauty," or "Hope," or "Love." .

Back to The Labyrinth