Peace be unto you, oh best beloveds. Know this...I am of the true jinn. My palace/recepticle once rested on a silken pillow housed within an ivory shell, nestled in a treasure box belonging to non other than Solomon the King, Wisest of the Wise, Great Keeper of God's Secrets and Benevolent Master of me and my kind. Do not mistake me for one of the imposters flitting about the cerulian skies above the Divine Portal. My core is pure. My 'heart' is true. And what I share with you is real.
The world has changed since Papa sugared the dreams of one tenth of humanity. Did he do it on his own, or was he but a vessel for a Greater Power? Ah, but these things are just details, tiny fragments of the Celestial Puzzle solved only by fools.
Yet growth, spiritual growth, I mean, can be detected. It wafts up from the bodies of the fleshy ones (mortals) like early morning mist from a Kashmiri lake. They do things a bit differently now. Would you like to know how I can tell? Well, here is one way, a concrete way, that you can easily see.. The number of collisions between those mechanized sedan chairs they call automobiles has decresed. And those in line waiting to purchase exotic delectibles at food emporiums smile more. Neighbors are less often cursed. Alms flow freely to those in need. No one sneers at fat people. I could go on and on.....
But they still lie...a little...Ask them to recount the dream. They will tell you - What dream?......For they are loath to step out from the herd, although the direction of the charge has been changed.
Papa sits on his chair, in the commodious den of his petit manor house in The City of Brotherly Love (Chestnut Hill, to be exact). An apt place. But his essence, his soul, flies free, piercing the Eternal Membrane and splashing through the wavelets of The Never Ending Sea. Is he the only created personality in that place? No, others swim there too. You may be slicing through those waters right now and not even know it. But tonight we speak of Papa. We tell a bit of the tale of our twenty eight thousand year old (Earth years, that is) life-eater, a vampire to some, a life saver to others.
The dream has been dreamed by many in The Holy Land as well. And the cause of peace has been advanced. Are others among the demi-angelic-host (vampires) still messing with those falafel balls? Well, I suppose they are. Every little bit helps. you know how it is....Brighten the corner where you are.....Every tiny effort reaps a bounty all its own.
Jonathon is happy. So is Sarah. And the 'anthem of love' created by the resurrected John Lennon, a somewhat incredulous Bob Dylan and Yusef Islam (formerly known as Cat Stevens) sells even better at ninety-nine cents per download.
Yet Edith, the Piney 'seer,' continues to smell trouble. The imposter jinns are still out there. And some people attempting to purchase exotic delectibles in glittering food emporiums still butt in line...