The Adventures of Stalker, The Bumbling Wizard... A Childrens Book, for Grown up Children too.

I wrote this story about 33 years ago, I hope you enjoy it....It's what you might call a "Multi Level" story...

We keep holding up the image
but the image grows old
And we forget the importance
of all the things that we were told
We walk towards the sun
We try not to stray
But it's so very hard sometimes
each and every day
Remember when you were a child
and everything was new
I'd like to go back to that quiet place
And stay here with you all too.

Can you remember when life was magical
A reflection in a pool of your dreams,
misty visions of green meadows
mountains and silvery streams.
Butterflies floating
like dancing fairies in the air
A vision so beyond beautiful
you forgot you were even there

Where has she come from
the beautiful butterfly
Silken threads her prison
her cocoon
Sad dreams
old illusions
The beauty of the butterfly
so far surpassed the dreams of the worm
Springtime vision, a memory in the snow
A new sun is rising, it's a new day you know...

In the magical woods he searched
for the Fairy Queen
The bumbling wizard
in the deep forest green
When he finally finds the key to the door
yesterdays phantoms
will be slain once more
With the golden sword of love
just like before
Stalker sitting with his back to a large rock thought silently to himself...
Sunlit castles floating in the air
Rainbow bridge into the sky
Children dancing without a care
Adults have forgotten their reasons why
and the sadness of this sometimes
would make Stalker cry

But now:
Soft and gentle the stream flows
Love grows
The trees bend in the wind
and sway
A falcon sits motionless on the air
without a care
The ocean of life roars and sings
and cries," I am One"
My breath sits on the wind and flies
over hills and mountains
kissing the land
The voice from the past
today whispers to me
and in hazy visions I see all of you,
who I love so
Gently flowing, softly kissing this life
I love

He wandered back to his home, only to find she was gone. And yet maybe she was never there - it was merely a fantasy. Like dreams the fantasies silently appear in our worlds. He was so very tired, the day had been long, the phantom battles had been many. He again wanders through them looking for his rewards, and his casualties. He finally leans back silently in his favorite old chair, puffing on his pipe. As the dreams float through him like clouds.

Then from out of a haze, came a face within a blaze:
Do not let me amaze you
don't let me offend you
I'm only here to lend you
a key to your soul
Your fantasy is life
as it is by itself
Stop your creating dreams Stalker
come down off the shelf

Or dream- dream on---castles floating in the air
Don't desire it too much though
this builds prisons, and creates much despair
Dream and see your dream become,
don't desire though
This gets pretty tricky
just try it and you'll know
Exactly what I mean,
and am trying here to show”

He wanted to run in fear
from the face in the blaze
But instead he disappeared into his mind
and back into the maze
A spider web of thought
pulling him in...
"The never ending battle wages on. My soul cries out for the light, but my mind reminds me of the importance, and solidity of all the falsities on which it dwells. Desire battles against truth. The duality that doesn't exist takes it's toll. The battle wages itself on in the name of Truth."
The sound of the voice from out of the blaze
pulled Stalker back out of the maze,
he knew Stalkers thoughts
"You see Stalker", he said, "it is only the battle within you, your Holy Crusade, that deprives this moment of its real truth."
"But the battle does exist, here and now for me, so is it not also truth ?"
In battles there are casualties, so it would be best for you to battle no further. Truth can only reveal itself in the present, it is not a goal to be fought for. Truth, Stalker, The peace and quiet of this moment cannot be heard over your phantom battle.

But you see Stalker, said the voice,
there is not only truth
there is absolute Truth
Mere truth is a quality of mans mind
It can be a wizards prison
It is a truth with millions of aspects
aspects that are born, grow, and die
Moving, changing aspects.
definable truths that can be categorized, and moved about to suit mans ego, All these truths move, change and exist within absolute Truth.
This absolute truth is the light I seek, said Stalker. This is what my soul cries out for, and is what my mind fears so much
You see, said the face within the blaze, the ego of your mind wants to be absolute ruler over the kingdom in which you live, and seeing how insignificant it really is, in relation to absolute Truth, it tries with all it's might to convince itself, and you, that it really is the most significant thing. So it sends out its soldiers, and these are the phantoms you battle.

Just who are you ?, asked Stalker
his voice shook a bit
He'd seen many magical things
but still wasn't used to it

I am the wizard who lives in the castle
at the center of the cyclone
The world whirls madly about me
yet I am still
My heart is at peace with all things
and with myself
And when I rest I often times find
all things are within my self
Light is within me
And in this light I see all things are the same within my self
The sadness equals the joy
My attention is not always focused in one area
as yours seems to be Stalker
All things are equally in focus
So rest now, child in my heart
Still your restless wandering mind
Rest within my love
Because I am you.

Now I must allow myself caught
thrown into the Light
a great momentum towards the center,
unlike the wind of the night
Where they'll try and hold you to a mold
created of solid stone
In the darkness and the wind
you're always alone

I love you all so much
you know we really are the same
The only difference I could see
would be within a game
Games are for children
children are love too
So you see my friend
I'm just the same as you

There was nothing left, but a spark of light
Stalkers eyes closed- to begin his dream journey
on this very quiet night

Dream Journey

The air was still --- the time was right
there was neither day or night
The decision came, it all happened
The dream now changes
But every ending is also a beginning

Suddenly sound and color ring forth,
from somewhere deep within
The nose, and the toes and now the chin
The eyes and the brain, and the body as a whole,
Fills up with light
from deep within his soul

Then there's the opening of a window
the universe comes into sight
Purpose, and Love ideas are set right
The time that lapsed from now to then,
means nothing
There's a cry, and a laugh, and a sigh of despair
But they disintegrate as they hit the warm air
The air of the Truth- moving from the soul out
has become a reasoning factor, no doubt

The eyes are opened -
or are they closed
closed or open- it's all supposed
The chair of life,
it stands in the door
a fly falls down dead on the floor
A face is sometimes a window
that hides the door
Stalkers ways are the curtain
this view is seen no more.

Then from out of the darkness of her lonely flight
A grounded angel called out to me,
in her sad fright
She wanted back the earth world
how could I tell her this wasn't right
One time too, I had had silver wings
then came a world full of games and other things
and all the fantasies that such a fairy tale brings
I knew there was a light ahead
I started flying towards the sun
I left behind the games and things
and left behind the worldly fun
But in my head these days
I so often seem to be
The phantoms I battle
won't set me free

His dream carries on,; visions weaving in and out:
Time goes by, in the bat of an eye
if the eye didn't bat
you'd be where you're at
I open my eyes
I'm part of the skies
You ,them and I
are really just I,
or maybe all it
but they don't see why
Pushing in deeper, pushing aside and laying away
The ideas that had lost me, just until today
I could say good-by to my friends
as you pass from my eye
but as One you see
you can never leave me
Becoming a part of it all- as it is

To quiet places - ships of wind
drifting on.
Rambling down streets of timeless, ageless, wordless wisdom

The narrow path of silence
through a world entangled in noise
As the pattern is forgotten, the blueprint slowly burns away
The painted faces of other worlds,
other dreams,
shine out through the darkness
that is all around the narrow path.
The faces may seem beautiful, or ugly to us,
but they are all faces of the past
and must be left alone to die, as the past fades.

His eye was a window - he peeked out from behind the shades. He knew he was asleep, as he gazed upon the moonlit sky, and wondered what lay beyond in this dream.
The golden bird of light
carrying the sun upon its wings
She came and spoke to Stalker
saying many things
She came like a whirlwind
she blew by so very fast
He doubted he'd gathered much of her words
or could even make her memory last

Lesson given, lesson heard
Spoken by a beautiful bird
The birds beauty was seen
it drew the eye
and the lesson flew off
into the sky

So they told the bird again
the bird again flew away
three times around the world
it just got here today
I asked her what they told her
but she only told me about the world she'd seen

So I'll open my ears, and try to hear
I'll do my best, not to fear
for fear will hide the truth of the voice
and I'll again become lost
because of my own foolish choice
The voice was said clearly
it just wasn't heard
it flew past my window
like a very swift bird
But next time I promise
I'll be out that window
I'll grab on to its tail and fly
back at its nest, where I come to rest
I'll finally know my reason why.
Then I'll fly back, 
just as did the bird
to fly past your window
carrying a word

So look out your window
and see what you see
don't be afraid, it happened to me
Follow the bird, 
don't let go on the way
if you stop there this time
next time you might have to stay
Follow it all the way this time
so that you might see
just exactly where you're headed
and where you're life should be
Then fly back with a piece of the word
Place it in someone's window
To be understood

Lights spinning
Broken pieces of memories
Blowing in the wind...........
A whirlwind
it draws Stalkers eye, be blinks, he's in the desert
He looks up at all the stars in the sky
Then in front of him he sees an Indian's tent
It's only a dream
But he still wonders why .

Stalker and White Eagle

He goes into the tent and sees a familiar old face
But he knows he's never seen him ,in any other place.
He greets him as he always had before
and sat down on the fur
on the same spot on the floor
Only in his dreams does he remember
the wrinkles in his weathered face,
The sparkle in his eyes, that lit up the whole place
His shield with an Eagle Feather, a White eagle feather,
his cloak was the golden skin of the mountain lion.
They sat on fur of buffalo
His name was White Eagle
His words touched Stalker,
as if they were Stalkers
own thoughts.

" It is good to see you my son," said White Eagle. You have found me many times, now I am a part of you. I am your Father, you have found White Eagle, you are now White Eagle Stalker. Tonight I will tell you why you were given the name, "White Eagle Stalker." He lit his pipe, and continued speaking. You are Stalker, White Eagle Stalker, of the Green bear.
These words meant much to Stalker, like the sun, coming from behind a dark cloud.
"Please keep you're silence Stalker,"
said White Eagle
They went out for a walk,
When they came to a special place of power
White Eagle again began to talk.
"Stalker seeks the way of the Golden Heart. But you fear the changes that will occur within you as you pass beyond the obstacles on the trail. As you pass beyond each obstacle, you grow and change, and you fear those eyes who can't understand your changes, and they have sometimes have even feared you. But when you find at the end of the trail, the way of the golden heart, you will no longer fear. Then the joy you find there you can pass along to your Brothers and Sisters within the medicine wheel of this Earth. Stalker, you must find yourself in the way of the Golden Heart. The obstacles on the trail are, personal desires, fears, hate, and all the egos children. These are the phantoms you battle. The Stalker must know his Way, and use it to overcome these obstacles...The Way of wide, clear eyes, and listening intently. Touching the Earth, clean and clear, he must find himself in harmony with all the rest upon this Earth, and within the Universe. But first he must find that harmony within himself... And yet he himself is the rest of this Earth, and universe. The harmony you find within yourself Stalker, is your harmony with all the things of this Earth, and universe.
Stalker didn't know where he was
he felt like a gentle breeze
White Eagles words were like a song
sung by the wind .......rustling in some trees
It seemed to blow Stalker, to the ends of the earth
he saw his death......and he saw his birth
it made him wonder, about his worth
then he almost wanted to cry
Then White Eagles words,
like a song in the wind
Picked Stalker up again.
" You know you would really like people to love you, but you are afraid they might not approve of "the way you are." So you must become inaccessible and love them with all your heart. A silent Stalker of Love. A Stalker remains silent so he can hear within others, and seek out the woe. Silently and carefully stalking the words to set them free. And when your eyes and ears, your mind, and heart know the time is right, you draw back the bow and fire these word arrows of love into their hearts.....then you will be a hunter. Controlled silence...speak no words to create an image of yourself. A Stalkers image is very hard to see. Speak to give, not receive. Then when no one can see you, except for the words of love you speak, they will know you for this love. A Stalker is inaccessible to others minds for becoming this way. The hunter fires the arrows of love into his brothers and sisters. A warrior is armed with the golden sword of love that can cut through any phantom. A warrior is Love, and yet he is alone
alone with the whole world
a strange loneliness
a constant companion.

More of White Eagles song
it doesn't rhyme in English, but that's OK

The Stalker must see all things along the trail with equal eyes. He must not fight to keep things away, and he must not collect treasures unto himself. He must not be like the mouse, who touches the world only as far as his whiskers will allow. He must also not be like the armadillo who has built a shell around himself, a shield to protect him from, and keep out, the rest of the world.
He should be like the eagle, and the lion. Silently moving, the lion with claws, with lines deep within the earth, always seeing the proper path to take, because he has no regrets. Following his senses through the hunt, without fear of what lies ahead upon the path, knowing he is King of this place. The eagle, with far reaching vision, seeing what lies far away, choosing its striking approach, and making it...swiftly and unwavering.
White Eagle paused , and lit up his pipe. Stalker had no words, he had become the song. White eagle blew out a cloud of white smoke, and the song went on.
" You must stalk the aspects of the doing world, and the not-doing world, because these are your "self. "If we react to these aspects, these phantoms, they can destroy us. You've committed yourself to the sorcerers path, you can't turn around, and you can't go back. You might as well listen to what I have to say, believe me it could come in handy some day.
These phantoms can destroy us, they destroy many people. This is why we must stalk them out, see them, know them. This way they won't be striking at us from behind.
These phantoms are reflected back to us by the people, and all the things around us, and many of these phantoms we don't want to see, so we might repel this person, or this thing, rather than seeing it with equal eyes. Everyone and everything is a mirror, a medicine lake for us. We can't run like mice from the reflection, we must love it all. It is a part of ourselves, and we a part of it. If we try to maintain our description of ourselves and the world, and if something comes along to threaten to change that slightly, we repel this thing. This is not harmony, and leads to sickness.
Looking in the mirror medicine lake once, the Warrior released his definition of the world. And before him he saw the multitude of the phantoms that were within "himself."
He saw them with equal eyes. The grotesque phantoms, and the beautiful phantoms were the same. We must be as that warrior, and repel none of the phantoms that are within the universe medicine wheel that is ourself. We must slay them with the golden sword of love, and free them

The Stalker is one who stalks himself.
He looks and listens deeply within himself so he can see, and hear the phantoms that are keeping him from really seeing, or hearing, or loving everyone else. Sometimes the whispering within him becomes very hard to hear. He might go to a quiet place- live alone like a hermit. Or he might withdraw within himself to be closer to the whispers, so that one day he might be nearer to the rest.
A stalker will one day become a warrior. A warrior must have no attachment....only Love.
Non- attachment is one thing a sorcerer derives his power from, if he is good. There are other ways, but they are for the Dark Ones.
If everyone must know
from where you come,
and where you go
show them now, with perfection
Remember Stalker, we are always Sun Dancing.
You're time is up, you'd better be on your way
Find Green Bear
was the last thing Stalker heard him say
White Eagle lit his pipe, he blew some blue smoke in Stalkers face
Like a feather in the wind, Stalker gently drifted up into space.

Rainbows started him spinning
so many questions in his head
The dream was past....almost forgotten
He was back at his cabin, back in his bed.

The fairies come to Stalker
The sun blasting a golden
lighting up the sky
He woke to hear the birds singing
as a ray of sun fell upon his eye.
He heard music, and singing
as he'd never heard before
Then he got out of bed
to answer the rapping on the door
A beautiful little fairy princess
right before him stood
He tried not to stare at her too hard
he did the best he could
Her innocent beauty, touched him so deep
Sparkling sky blue pools,
the twinkling in her eyes
A voice so sweet and gentle
one he knew could tell no lies

"Won't you come out and play,
and share with my friends
this very beautiful day."

Who might you be
pretty little one?
he said, thinking out loud to himself
You certainly are tiny, might you be an elf?
She giggled a little, shrugged he shoulders,
and lifted he little wings above her head.
She smiled, her eyes twinkled, she sang to Stalker
and this is what she said.

I am Light
I am Air
I'm the Wind
Without a care

She flew in the air
twirled around and around
Flew around Stalker 
landing gently on the ground.

The Earth below
that touches my feet
The smiles on the faces
of the people I meet
The wind that blows the clouds up above
They are all me, 
said she
And we are all Love

You always sit inside alone, she said. The battle caries on. Yesterdays phantoms still haunt your soul. Outside the sky is so blue, the sun is so warm. The fairies are dancing and playing, the phantoms are an illusion. We take hands and dance around the mushroom.
Man rushes by so quickly, he doesn't even see us. In the blink of an eye a fairy celebration takes place. Mans head is thick and heavy, full of never ending fairy tales. It weighs him down. The faster he goes, the slower he gets...time is wasted
And a fairy celebration.....singing....dancing, loving, eating, and drinking dew drop nectar. ...all in the blink of an eye. Your fairy tale phantoms pull you away from the joy of the dance.
Forget them now, come out and play.

It was so beautiful the way the fairies took Stalker in,
his face broke out in an ear to ear grin.
He thought to himself of the fairies happy way:

Floating Singing
Life is a beautiful dance
do it all for love, they say
Give it all away
And be it all.
We are only what we give away
Our bodies grow old, and die
Have we kissed this life,
or run through it like frightened mice
We leave nothing behind
but what we give away

Stalker sat down on a mushroom, because for some reason he was now very small, in fact he wondered if this could even be happening at all.
Down from the sky, coming through the trees,
floated the most beautiful butterfly
it landed on one of his knees
It was really amazing, the butterfly began to sing
and this was her song

Sadly and for so long
in a lonely place,
where I didn't belong
The world freely flowing by,
but it wasn't seen....
people all about, rushing frantically to and fro
going somewhere they don't even know
In circles within boxes
Their love they're afraid to show
I was in  a cocoon on a branch,
hanging on a tree
when I could finally see out
I knew it wasn't me
Trapped inside as the world passed by
I became very sad, and began to cry
Then I looked out at my friends
and love filled my heart
and gradually my cocoon fell apart
Then on wings of love, flew the butterfly
out into the world, and up into the sky

The butterfly started to fly away,
But she still had one thing that she wanted to say,

Like fairies dancing on the air
the river flowing without a care
Autumn leaves floating down the stream
happy endings, to a beautiful dream
The laughter of friends
a song in my heart
We'll always be together
even when we're apart

Reds, blues, gold, and green
and every other color Stalker had ever seen
Her beautiful wings lifted her
gently into the air
Stalker tried to go after her
The fairy princess stopped him
before he got there
She whispered very quietly,
so only he could hear
She sat on his shoulder,
and whispered in his ear

The silent butterfly
at home in the sky
and worlds
but you can't catch her
no matter how hard you try
But once that butterfly was also captive in a silken prison, 
so keep heart
I think I see wings beginning to grow.

The fairies drink the dew drop nectar of Life
and sing their song
The silence is a fairies favorite song
and he finds when he sings it,
he can come to no wrong

She handed him an acorn cup, and filled it from a leaf on the tree
She said, help yourself, drink all you want, come along with us
won't you please follow me.

Led deep into the silent forest of love,
they made him gaze into a reflective pool so clear
He'd been held captive in a phantom prison, so long
in the reflection he saw, the Freedom brought fear

Ripples on the water, a feather fallen from a bird in the tree
Dissolving the reflection, and bringing Stalker back to his old reality
The fairy princess was gone
Stalker didn't really care
He'd forgotten all about her
as soon as she wasn't there
Fairies are that way sometimes.

Silver rivers winding down cobblestone paths, across flowers, leaves and stone-
Endless silken trails glistening in the sunlight...Patterns that set Stalkers mind free...
Snail trails........

He walked until dark, it started getting very cold
He huddled up in the base of a tree
that seemed to be very old
He thought of the phantom battles of that day
and became lost in another one
indulging in his usual way.
The phantoms still haunt,
a loneliness in a world full of people still prevails
The self that is an illusion carries on
The self that is true, cries for release
Where is the key, to open my heart, and set me free?
The lady of my love, lost in hazy visions past....the dream beyond I can't yet see. You are beyond my reach, but you are in my heart. She will only take me in the silence. Come to my side Fairy Queen. Tonight I am lost in the woods. Wrap your wings of love around my soul...Warm me, protect me with your golden light. If only you'd show me the light of day, I'd get back on the trail, and back on my way.
He sat there cold and shivering, he remembered the Fairy Queen, he'd met her once when he was very young, and was lost in the woods. She warmed him and showed him the way. Now this night, many years later he is again lost in the woods, something he has secretly waited for for so long. He could never forget the golden love of the Fairy Queen. Over the years his love grew, and ate at him from within...
A kindly old gypsy herb seller passed him by in his colorful painted wagon, and offered him shelter, warmth, and food. Stalker refused, he was waiting for Her. He was cold and alone,
alone with the whole world..
Suddenly the ground did shake
just as Stalkers heart was about to break
A rumbling voice, from the king of trees
He lifted his head up, off his knees

"You seek refuge in others hearts, this is fine, spoke the tree
Seek it wherever you are, and with whoever you are with,
but build no castles in those hearts
or you'll be building your prison
There need not be an object to love
Love can be on it's own
If it be an object, or a person exclusively, it imprisons the heart. Love cannot be defined, or put in boxes. When this is done, the more you believe you are loving, the more you are actually imprisoning that person or thing, and yourself.....
You are trying to build your house on the wind....
and this can't be done.

All I've seen, said Stalker, has been my own broken dreams. I missed out on seeing the most beautiful golden dove flying past my window. I was too busy looking through my scrapbook. The next time she flies by I hope I might be free from the phantoms of the past, so that I might catch a little more than a glimpse of her. Filling my heart, with golden love, the soft gentle love of that beautiful dove.
There was a short silence
then the silence broke
by the voice of the old tree
as he spoke

You always keep trying
to escape all the lying
but so often in whirlpools you'll spin
Yesterdays joys and sadness,
create such a madness,
it seems that you just cannot win
Drowning in the ocean
you've lost all devotion
to those things you cannot see or hear
The ships that once saved you
really only betrayed you,
so now you are drowning in fear
Time tries to hold you, to all that they told you
but it really means nothing at all....
Stalker, Let it be as it is
This is not hers, this is not his
Keep nothing with your mind
imprison nothing with your desire
Let it be as it is, free from definition
Hold nothing in time
Love everything forever
Give it all away, then say good-by to your old self,
your old world
Flow with the wind........ ......leaves upon the breeze
I'm trapped and caged , said Stalker,
by yesterdays joys and sorrow.
But I hope to find my way back to the road,
first thing tomorrow.
I can see the viewpoint of the old wise man, hardened with age, but knowing exactly where to step in the bog, so as not to be sucked under by the quicksand. But I can't fully see the viewpoint of the child, who plays in the bog every day, with unicorns, fairies and nymphs....and never even worries about where he steps, because to him the bog, is a flowering field...

The tree again spoke, trying to shed some light
Into the darkness where Stalker, was lost that night.
The mire ahead, to cross beyond...the stepping stones fall from the silence.With your heart you must place them, as carefully as you can. You were lost in the midst of a dark mire, when along came friends with stepping stones to hand you. But for so many years you feared them, as evil creatures of the mire. You were wrong, they were lost there just like you, looking for the other side.
I see in your heart, the desire to be free
But your loneliness and pain, won't let that be
These pull you down, to be buried, deep in the mire
hear my words well,
fulfill this one desire.
Now I've said to you what I had to say,
I'm very pleased you decided that you wanted to stay
My little friend here will help you, back on your way

From deep within his branches flew the most beautiful bird,
it sang the most exquisite song, Stalker had ever heard
She said, come grab hold of my tail, I'll fly you back to the trail. And she did just that, in the blink of an eye.
Stalker was shaken, he pulled himself to his feet
It was the strangest bird, he could ever hope to meet
The birds eyes sparkled, he was going to speak,
You could tell by the way he was scratching his beak.

So much time has been spent inside a dream
I try to tell all who I love so
the worlds not as it might seem
To go on creating
would only be a lie
There's no purpose in it at all,
you might as well die
But death brings little change
as you wish so to believe
Now is your chance
the phantom prison you must leave
If you go on creating
inside of your mind
all it will keep telling you
is that you are one of a kind
But we really are all one
your separation is sin
Turn around on the road now,
it's not too late to begin
Your solid way of life seems so important, indeed
Leave it behind, only then will you be freed
If I say I desire nothing, but freedom, and to sing my song
Something inside you says this must be wrong
But your soul and your ego, are currently not the same
you keep listening to your ego
and keep playing the same old game...
The bird in the tree is singing
and he flies so free
He tells me he's my brother,
he says, "be like me"
He says he's fed by the land
he loves and he can fly
He sings from his love filled heart,
that the limit is the sky
and today he will be happy
because tomorrow he just might die

The brains they turn over,
so very very rushed
afraid that if they stopped
their world would be crushed
A bird doesn't think like this,
cluttering up his head,
why worry about meaningless things
when tomorrow you might be dead

Stalker wondered as he looked up at the bird
If he'd be wise to believe, everything he had just heard
then the bird continued:
Lines drawn in time, spaces in this rhyme,
My song of short spaced rhythm
has become my time and prison
We're all so sure about the rhythm of our song
We don't even consider that we could possibly be wrong
We're caught up in its beat
and burning in its heat
But there's a song in your heart
it doesn't stop, and has no start
It sings that your phantoms song
isn't really there
You hear this, and you know it's truth
but your ego refuses to care
And as you escape back into the beat of things
it seems your heart no longer sings
The song of the phantoms
and the song in your heart
seem to be tearing Stalker apart
You must choose one
or the song of the two
The song of them together,
is what you must do
You must listen to the two,
and not seek reward
the answer to it all
lies within a single chord
Indulging in pain brought about by change, Stalker, is a very worthless thing. It is from changes that come the most profitable lessons in life. Unfortunately it seems sometimes your mind considers change, or dis-continuity, as pain....because our phantoms fear threatens their existence. Right now the changes are coming to you fast. Your phantoms scream and say, "Stop this constant bombardment, you're killing us," and your heart answers, "Right On....Exactly."
It doesn't really matter
just what is being said
or what kind of nonsense
runs around inside my head
My gift to you, is the song in my heart
You can keep it always ... 
even when we're apart

The bird flew off into the early morning sky
Stalker felt very different
he wasn't sure just why
He thought to himself, as he walked down the road, he felt that he'd left behind a heavy load.
The ocean that all life is, is here, everywhere.
I feel it moving in everything around me. The walls that are the barriers melt before my eyes, and the ocean roars inside my head. I dream very often of being drowned, battered by the waves. In my days way I can stop and see them moving about me, but I still have a great fear I don't understand. I fear I have swum to a place where the ocean currents are strong, and on that place I have built my stone house. So is this the fear...the house to crumble, to once again flow in the ocean.

The trees and the sky
the wind and the rain
Ebb and flow in the ocean
Happiness and pain
"his house is further out than ours,
he must be insane."

We must all flow together
only in the quiet of mind
will we again discover
we are as one - of a kind
As the waves splashed against me
the energy went to my mind
Foolish and separate it says
"I'm one of a kind."
So how then could I flow
Peace wherever you are it should be
everything else you create, can't you see
Maybe "they," create an instance
for you to react
but in the light of your soul
you can tell fiction from fact
So don't be fooled by all the roadblocks you see
They'll try to stop you on your journey to the Sun
Just like they try to stop me
You must flow in the ocean
then when you return
you'll find the truth of the waves
only then can you learn.
I stop along my way
to go in someones head
I try to find my way out of
everything that's been said
For them I go behind closed doors
searching for the key
I'm their reflection in a mirror
is this why they fear me
A spot on the map, they say
"This is where you stand,"
I say no, we're gypsy wizards, and this is a free land
Points ever turning, revolving stars in space
I can no longer feel obligated to stay in one single place
I'll just keep on moving
eye focused on the sun,
knowing all along the way
........The journey has just begun........
On the road, fears and games in the past
Sad lonely stories, that could never ever last
floating along, like a mockingbirds song
Floating gently through the air
Sometimes the trail becomes hard to follow, broken dreams snag upon our clothing.
But ahead is a clearing, we can see a beam of light.

What do I seek, he thought to himself
Riches, fame and fortune
what a laugh
Golden rays of warmth reach down through the trees. The stream whispers old dead stories. I reach for the sun...I breath in the vision...I breath out my love
There is much burden yet upon my shoulders. I placed it there, and I must carry it.
I seek freedom, the Light, the Fairy Queen, but will I pay the price..Giving myself up to the light, to love.
Like the kiss of a butterfly
the touch on his hand
It was the little fairy princess
he'd met once before,
in a far away land.......
.....that was his home.
The reflective pools, mirrors in her eyes
The wind whispered stories
he wanted to believe they were all lies
Fears in the reflection
dreams not coming true
Old stories without endings
and the memory of all he knew
Won't you give me your burden
the fairy princess said
She spoke the words so sweetly,
spinning light within his head
But he still refused to give it all away,
after all it had been with him, for very many a day
She said,
Let me hear your words of sorrow
I will give you words of joy
Can't you see there is no tomorrow
Don't let your life
be the phantoms toy
Don't be a dreamer, can't you see the reason
Love's not a leaf, that turns with the season
Life is not to be lived, to fill your minds desire
come now with me, and crawl from the mire
The Fairy Queen wants you, by her side
She says from your love and freedom
you can no longer hide
Climb with me, on this unicorns back
we're going for a ride
The child of ten thousand years
helped him push aside the fears
and showed him how to shift the gears,
on the highway of sad games
Soon they came to a meadow, at the end of the trail
The fairy princess slid down the unicorns back, swinging from it's tail
The rest of Stalkers burden,
fell down to the ground
Landing in the clover,
it didn't even make a sound
His heart exploded when he saw her
The whole world was new
He had no thoughts, nothing to say
The fairy princess told him what to do
Watch the Fairy Queen
dance and play
Sparkling Sunbeams
through the day
Lighting the darkness
along the way
He slid off the unicorns back, next to the princess, standing by an old tree
He started to run towards the Fairy Queen, the princess grabbed him by the knee...She said,
It's not wise to rush your fate,
Let her finish the dance, if you think you can wait
Her dance makes the flowers grow,
it makes the birds sing
Please be patient Stalker, she said,
touching him with her wing

Stalker was empty
he was also filled.
words poured from his heart
She's the flower in my field
island in my stormy sea,
sun shining in a sea of darkness
Sun shining in the sea of me
The Queen finished dancing
the princess left with a song
Stalker knew he was finally home
Back to where he'd always belong

Gently floating upon the water
a wind blown leaf
Autumn colors of such beauty
almost beyond belief
Dew drop diamonds
sparkling on the trees
Falling all around us
set free by the breeze
Cool emerald carpet of moss
covering the ground
We sat amidst the mushrooms
just looking all around
Smiles from the skies
the gleam in her eyes
Golden shimmers from her hair.
The voice moves me like the waves
When she spoke it was like a song
he heard it in his heart
She gave him the golden sword,
and he cut the phantoms all apart
"Her golden hair pulling me in
swimming in her eyes
She took me as part of herself,
upon fairy wings we fly
All through all the worlds,
and up into the sky
Queen Fairy, my love, and I."

The end

The Warrior and The Child of God

The warrior has no fear
he is no longer prey
to the emotional web
The spider whose web is the strings,
to the puppets,
to those who fall prey
The Child of God in the heart of the warrior
the silent child who judges nothing,
but touches all things, lovingly and gently.
The child's touch is love
The warrior must keep the child's touch
The child of God, whose thoughts are the gentle summer breeze, or the ringing of a church bell, the crickets chirps, people talking, singing, laughing and crying. The smell of flowers in spring, and the buzzing of the bees collecting honey. He has no time for thoughts of yesterday or tomorrow... now is too good to miss.
The warrior must battle the spider with its emotional web.
The spider has many tricks to lure us into its web....but "pleasure and pain" are its favorites. Whirlpools in the web, pulling us in.
When the warrior can learn to love the spider, and touch it with the touch of the child of God; the warm healing touch of love...the web will burn away, from the heat of the love. The spider might become the warriors pet, or he might set him free all together....
Then the warrior will stand free in the world.....A child of God.

Once Upon a Lost Forever
an archetype vision

Once upon a lost forever flew a lost thought of reality searching for a place to become. Across vast expanses of space it tried to become, but everywhere it tried to become it wouldn't fit. Each place it tried to become it left a hole that had to be filled. As he looked back at the spot as he left it he found that in the hole appeared something that looked much like him. Then in turn he would see
his creations flying about looking for places to become, and he saw the holes that they left fill in with something that looked much like their "creators," only slightly less advanced. He flew on and on trying to become, but after some time became obsessed in watching his creations, and their creations and their creations and so on...He watched from "above" because of course he was far

superior to all he had created. He looked down in awe and ideas began to come to him..Ideas of power...of greatness.. an ego was born. He had now forgotten his search for a place to become because he had accepted, because of his newly created ego, that where he was now, was the place he had been searching for. "He was now the "Master. "Much time went by and the Master grew
very bored with his "treasures. But in the mean time they had grouped together and were plotting amongst themselves. Rivalry amongst his children thoughts brought many changes ,and the "Master" tried to back away as he had before and fly on, the problem was he seemed to be stuck on
what was going on. He watched "conflicts" and helped the ones he believed were right. His "children thoughts" power grew and built and the master was overcome. He disappeared into what was happening with everything and sometimes seemed to be helping from afar. The rivalry amongst that which he had created, grew worse until one day they created an idea strong enough to
destroy them all....and shortly thereafter proceeded in doing so. Once upon a lost forever flew a lost thought of reality searching for a place to become....
The same story repeated again and again, but each time the Lost Thought seemed to remember a small piece of his experience from the time before, and eventually built a wise knowledge upon it. This knowledge, after many eternity's began to be felt by the "created'' ,but they would stop at nothing to see to it that the Knowledge didn't seep out. Upon being re-created so many times over they had forgotten what they originally were, and lived seemingly perfect in their created worlds. As knowledge began to come through a light began to shine, and the lost thought that was searching to become realized it was more than a thought. It heard in a whispering, the word Love...but disregarded it as he did now with all that was created, and he flew on searching. As she lived to know more the light shone more brightly until it was so bright that the lost thought could no longer see himself, only the Light. He was of course startled at first, but then discarded the emotion.
It was then that it realized that it, as a thought-form, had been truly lost...then it forgot itself.

The Painter was Time

The painter of the picture was quite insane when he painted you into a very strange place. It was insane, but you didn't know what sane was, so you believed you fit perfectly. The painter was of course very careful that he didn't paint the picture so fast that you might remember being painted. You worked through time into truly believing in the reality of everything else in the painting you were in. One day you had taken in and accepted everything in the painting as far as you could have mis- accepted it, when a glimpse outside of the painting came. You became very frightened and threw yourself back, deep into the painting. Then you decided that everything outside of your perfectly painted reality was insane, or not be feared. Of course you refused to accept any little particle of truth that came to you and tried to meet with you from out of the "insane" realm. One day a passer by in the Great Hall of paintings saw you and your predicament, and when you went to sleep that night he came to you and told you about the real world, outside of your painting. Because you were asleep and not indulging in the false pleasures and pains of your old world, you heard a piece of what he was saying. He came to you every night for many years. One day you woke up and saw outside of the painting you had been locked inside. Time passed and you came to look out and understand. And time came when fear vanished, and you loved again. And finally you completely forgot about the painting you had once been held prisoner in, and you rested outside, in bliss.
One day along your way you passed by a painting in that Hall, and you saw people painted into a predicament. And so that night when they went to sleep you went to them and showed them a piece of the real world. Then you walked down the Hall and saw the painting you were once painted into, and you laughed. To you the Hall was a sad place, a zoo of lifes.

Desire for Material Things

" I want this, and I want that."
" I need this, and I need that."
People live there lives for their desire
of material things
They find their happiness
with what money brings
I desire nothing more
than the desire to know
all my soul offers
to make my love grow
Why can't they see
what I'm trying to show
That you may own this thing
and have bought all that too
the material things, really own you
Freedom can only be found
when we drop all our ties
All our prideful possessions
are nothing but lies

The Old Man and the Rose

He loves them all so much
they are all so beautiful
and yet they fight amongst themselves
Why can't they see?...
Everything about them is beautiful
He cries when he sees the old man, seeing nothing but the ground,
Lonely, full of sadness
what can he do to help?
There are so many lonely sad people, all around, who need love. But he is afraid to walk up to the old man, and tell him. He's afraid to tell them. And then he looks in the mirror and sees a lonely old man, who has locked himself away from that beautiful world. How can he give when he's locked himself away. What ever happened? He reflects back to his childhood, when it was all new and beautiful, and even when they told him it wasn't, he still knew. But then he grew older, and one day was given a rose.....the most beautiful rose he had ever seen. He loved the rose so much, so much in fact that the rest of the world faded before his eyes, and all he could see was the rose. But every time he reached out to touch the beautiful rose, a thorn would prick his finger. He spent many years reaching out to the rose he loved so much, but the only thing the rose gave him was pain. The world outside faded, as all he saw was the rose....and the rose was painful to see. Then one day, just as the rose was given to him, it was taken away. He was alone, and the world was dark. He was so afraid to walk in the garden again, to see the beautiful flowers....he remembered too well the pain.
So the old man walks, with his head down....nothing else around....alone.
We can't criticize those we don't understand, they've simply walked over different land.
They may be lonely and sad,
or "hostile" and "cruel"
But whatever they do
they don't really do to you
So we must just keep on loving
You know it's all they need
The most beautiful flower in the garden,
had to be planted from a seed.

Within every microcosmic relationship
is a macrocosmic analogy
Impeccability in microcosmic relationships
leads to realization of
the Macrocosmic Analogy

When Love becomes emotion
we lose our high vantage point
And can no longer see clearly
This is when " Love is blind"