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OSHO Online Library   »   The Books   »   Reflections on Khalil Gibran's The Prophet
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Chapter 42: Let My Words Be Seeds in You

And now it was evening.
And Almitra the seeress said, Blessed be this day and this place and your spirit that has spoken.
And he answered, Was it I who spoke?
Was I not also a listener?

Then he descended the steps of the Temple and all the people followed him. And he reached his ship and stood upon the deck.
And facing the people again, he raised his voice and said:
People of Orphalese, the wind bids me leave you.
Less hasty am I than the wind, yet I must go.
We wanderers, ever seeking the lonelier way, begin no day where we have ended another day; and no sunrise finds us where the sunset left us.
Even while the earth sleeps we travel.
We are the seeds of the tenacious plant, and it is in our ripeness and our fullness of heart that we are given to the wind and are scattered.

Brief were my days among you, and briefer still the words I have spoken.
But should my voice fade in your ears, and my love vanish in your memory, then I will come again,
And with a richer heart and lips more yielding to the spirit will I speak.
Yea, I shall return with the tide,
And though death may hide me, and the greater silence enfold me, yet again will I seek your understanding.
And not in vain will I seek.
If aught I have said is truth, that truth shall reveal itself in a clearer voice, and in words more kin to your thoughts.

I go with the wind, people of Orphalese, but not down into emptiness;
And if this day is not a fulfillment of your needs and my love, then let it be a promise till another day.
Man’s needs change, but not his love, nor his desire that his love should satisfy his needs.
Know, therefore, that from the greater silence I shall return.

And it was evening.
And Almitra the seeress said, Blessed be this day and this place and your spirit that has spoken.

Kahlil Gibran speaks in metaphors; perhaps that is the only way to speak about the truth. Through metaphor, through parables, it is possible to give you an indirect glimpse, but there is no direct way to say what the truth is. So while you listen to these words, remember - every word is a metaphor.

And now it was evening. The sun was setting, and the time for the departure of Almustafa had arisen. It was not just evening outside, it was also an evening that had descended into the hearts of those who had gathered to hear him. A darkness started descending over them.

The presence of Almustafa amongst them had been just like a sun, a light to which they had become so accustomed that they had almost forgotten it. It is one of the miseries of life that the obvious becomes the most difficult, and that which is available becomes almost absent to your eyes; only departure wakes you up from your dreams and your sleep.

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