originally posted by: Peeple
a reply to: cooperton
If it would have been Gods will that we quote scripture all the time we'd be parrots.
Instead he gave us a brain to think our own thoughts you should try...
It's a historical document and Manymasks asked about ascended masters of the past, so I quoted some that claimed to be ascended masters. I agree, we
should be able to speak the truth from our own hearts and not rely on a script... But the script(ure) tells us about humanity's past and that's what
Manymasks was asking about.
Describing an ascended master isn't easy. A lot of times I would imagine they aren't really written about because they fly under the radar. Here is
one example that I found from Kahlil Gibran in the 19th century:
The Coming of the Ship
Almustafa, the chosen and the beloved, who was a
dawn unto his own day, had waited twelve years in
the city of Orphalese for a ship that was to return
and bear him back to the isle of his birth.
And in the twelfth year, on the seventh day of Ielool,
the month of reaping, he climbed the hill without
the city walls and looked seaward; and he beheld
his ship coming with the mist.
Then the gates of his heart were flung open, and his
joy flew far over the sea. And he closed his eyes
and prayed in the silences of his soul.
But as he descended the hill, a sadness came upon
him, and he thought in his heart:
How shall I go in peace and without sorrow? Nay, not
without a wound in the spirit shall I leave this city.
Long were the days of pain I have spent within its
walls, and long were the nights of aloneness; and
who can depart from his pain and his aloneness
Too many fragments of the spirit have I scattered in
these streets, and too many are the children of my
longing that walk naked among these hills, and
I cannot withdraw from them without a burden
and an ache.
It is not a garment I cast off this day, but a skin that I
tear with my own hands.
Nor is it a thought that I leave behind me, but a heart
made sweet with hunger and with thirst.
Yet I cannot tarry longer.
The sea that calls all things unto her calls me, and I
For to stay, though the hours burn in the night, is to
freeze and crystallize and be bound in a mould.
Fain would I take with me all that is here. But how
A voice cannot carry the tongue and the lips that gave
it wings. Alone it must seek the ether.
edit on 16-12-2019 by cooperton because: (no reason