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Existence should not fail.
Summoned to maintain the balance,
Of the guppy, the feather, and the pebble.
Summoned to extend the length of that blink.
And thus was Isthil born.
She traveled the world and saw,
Traveled the world and listened,
Traveled the world and felt.
And thus spoke Isthil when she had come to understand:
Here is the center of the balance.
Here on this earth existence hangs.
Here the Seven balances must be maintained,
Else all should perish.
So she said to her brothers and sisters:
We are not called to idleness,
We are called to a great work.
We have been called into existence by the Source,
So that this universe shall not perish,
So that life will not cease,
So that beauty and joy may live on.
At some point I had started to read aloud. “So that what is may go on being; so that this time the will of existence shall not be thwarted; so that the eye of consciousness will not be closed again.”
I heard the sound of someone clearing their throat politely. I looked up expecting to see Messenger, dreading where he would take me next.
But it was not Messenger. It was Haarm.
“Haarm?”
“Who else?” he asked, smiling and spreading his hands in a gesture of innocence.
“What do you want?”
“You’re getting into that, huh?” he asked, nodding at the book.
“I don’t seem to have cable or Wi-Fi,” I said. “I have these books.”
“Yeah, me, too,” he said.
“Have you read them?”
