**********

Friday, September 21, 2007


[The events shown here in the analogy actually
occurred over a 5-week period, approximately
from August 7th to about September 13.  Much
thanks to those of you that prayed during that time
for me... after all, you are in this analogy too.  <soft
smile>]  


**********

    First singer – the counselor:
    Hush child, cold winter winds come,
    Feel the chill, wrap now or some
    Iced Spirit may call you home.

    Second singer – the child:
    Nay, I fear them not, and welcome them
    bold,
    My arms are numb, my thoughts are cold.
    Tis too late, they call me home.

    First singer – the counselor:
    Hush child, colder winds now stalk
    You drop the blanket and naked walk
    Among the Iced Spirits that sing your
    name?

    Second singer – the child:
    They are now my friends, old counselor,
    I grow as cold as they,
    I grow as cold as they.

    -  from The Death Songs of Winter, Book of the
    Murijba  

**********

The Tigress continued walking higher into the
mountains.  The madness had driven her more and
more.  Dreams of the black tigers hating her;
dreams of being left to die; dreams of marking
message trees with apologies to those she had
once abandoned -- these kept appearing in her
mind, robbing her of sleep and sanity.

She was far from the jungle now.  She walked dirt
pathways, moving higher and higher, towards the
“white jungle”.

[The tigers do not understand the distant view of
snow on the mountains.  They believe the snow is
the top of the “white trees” of the “white jungle”.]

The Wind blew in next to her.  “Tigress,” the Wind
whispered, “this is not your place.  This road is too
hard for you.”

“Wind,” whispered back the Tigress, “I must
escape the nightmares.”

“Tigress,” softly spoke the Wind, “The dreams have
nothing to do with the jungle – they have to do with
your heart.  You must give eyes of compassion to
those that gave you eyes of death.”

But the Tigress continued onward by the hour.

A mountain wind blew in.  And drifting snow began
to erase the brown dirt pathway behind them.

The Wind whispered, “Who dares…?” as if asking
his own self concerning the mountain wind….  but
there was no answer, for the Wind’s words were
not a command.

The Wind followed the Tigress.  The mountain wind
grew louder.  Snow began to cover the path
completely, and to blind the way forward or
backward.

“Tigress!”  spoke the Wind firmly.  “You have heard
it said by the tigers, “Love the clan; but hate the
others”.  Tigress!  I am telling you that you must
Love the Others; give eyes of compassion to those
that gave you eyes of death!  Bless those that
cursed you!  Repeat it, my golden friend!”

But the madness was deeper now… and the
Tigress could barely hear the Wind.  In the mind of
the Tigress, she saw no snow and no pathway –
instead, she saw the black tiger cursing her with
eyes of death; she saw the tigers that had deserted
her to die; she even saw scenes of her cub-life and
the hatreds given her.  

[For in the tigers, the madness blocks all good
memories, and brings out only the memories of the
battles lost, and of wounds received.]

The mountain wind blew louder.   And the golden
eyed one – the Tigress – lay down on the pathway,
now covered with a half-inch of white snow.  And
then, she stumbled into a troubled sleep.  Even in
her sleep, she flexed her claws at unseen
memories, fighting as she always had done… but
this time she also whispered, “… eyes of
compassion…”.  But that was all she said, and then
was in a delirium of sleep.

The Wind stood over the Tigress.  The mountain
wind howled louder.  In the distance, a pack of wild
wolf-dogs were heard howling.

And the Wind turned white, then golden.  And the
Wind (that cannot be seen), formed into a Lion.  
The Lion shook his mane, and then roared, “Seven
Breezes!  To me, now!”

And the small breezes that always waited upon the
Wind, rushed in next to the Lion.  But each breeze,
as they approached the Wind-now-become-Lion,
became a white Snow Leopard.  Each was not
spotted, but pure white.  

[For the breezes always reflected their Lord.  If
their Lord appeared as one of the giant cats, the
breezes would then reflect such in their own form.]

“My Lord!” growled out the largest of the Snow
Leopards.  “We have come!”

The howling grew in the distance.  The wind
increased in strength.  Flurries of white snow began
to sting at their eyes.

“The Wolf-dogs are coming, as they did so long ago
to my Father’s throne.” Spoke the Lion.  And then
He growled, “Go and meet them with full fang and
claw.”

Each of the Snow Leopards hissed and snarled,
their eyes glowing as if flames in dark battle fields.  
And then, the largest spoke, “Battle for the weak
ones!  Yes!”   

“Yes!” snarled all the other Snow Leopards, from
the smallest to the one that was half-again her
size.  

But then, the largest of the Snow Leopards snarled
into the face of the mountain wind, “Battle long ago
for the One!  Now, battle for His weak ones!  Yes!”  

“Yes!”  and “Yes!”  again snarled the other Snow
Leopards, shouting out the words, and clawing at
the snow building about them.  

There was silence for a moment.  And then a low
and savage growl, “Battle for His Weak Ones!”
came from the throat of the largest, and then all
replied with equally low and savage growls in
unison, “Battle for His Weak Ones!” as if swearing a
formal oath of long ago.

And then, the seven Snow Leopards lept into what
had become a near-blinding storm of white snow,
and vanished from view.

But the Lion stood over the semi-conscious Tigress
so that His body’s warmth covered her form, and
then He turned and stared at the approaching
mountain wind.  The streams of white snow
slammed into the Lion, and suddenly burst upward
and parted, as if the Lion were an unmovable rock
in a raging flood stream of white-water.  

In front of the Lion, pointed bamboo spikes began
to show just an inch above the layers of snow.  
Each was sharpened to a point, and stood to slow
any enemy’s advance.  As the snow tried to cover
them, they simply pushed up a bit higher.  Voices
could be heard coming up from the bamboo, as if
the more fervent the voice, the stronger and
sharper the bamboo.

“Three battles, then.” Growled the Lion, “So it shall
be.”

There were five wolf-dogs rushing through the
blinding storm.  The gray wolf-body allowed them
to move swiftly in the layered snow; the dog-head
and wolf-head were side by side.  “Smell death
coming!” growled one dog-head.  The wolf-head
was silent though his mouth was open and his fangs
extended as if long sabers of white metal.

The leader of the wolf-dog pack slowed down.  The
pack paused and spread apart – each of the five
wolf-bodies moving; each with two heads.  

“Smell now different?” the pack lead dog-head
whispered to his wolf-head partner.  

“Smell this!” hissed a voice, and one Snow Leopard
burst out of the near-zero visibility snow flurry, and
crushed the dog-head with a single strike of his
paw.  The wolf-head turned and lunged toward the
Snow Leopard, for each head controlled the wolf-
body completely – its fangs missed the darting
Snow Leopard.  But a second Snow Leopard – the
largest of them all – crept up behind the wounded
wolf-dog, and then struck hard on the middle of the
back, snapping the wolf-dog’s spine.

The wolf-dog crumpled to into the snow – as if a
picture of grey body and red streaks on white
canvas.

“Lucifer’s-Finger”, snarled the largest Snow
Leopard, “Pity we meet again.”

“Unstoppable-River, may you be cursed in battle.”
Whispered back the dying wolf-dog.  And then, the
wolf-dog’s body turned into thousands of black
flies, and cloud after black cloud took off into the
mountain wind's storm.

“It will take at least a week for that one to reform
in hell.” said the largest Snow Leopard.  

“At least.” answered back the other Snow Leopard,
as if with a smile.

“To me!” screamed out a voice.

The voice was from the smallest of the Snow
Leopards.  She had succeeded in striking the dog-
head of her opponent, but her partner Snow
Leopard had missed his strike against the wolf-
body.  And now, the two Snow Leopards were
surrounded by the remaining four wolf-dogs.

“Smallest one, yes!” barked out one of the living
dog-heads, and all four wolf-dogs lept towards the
smallest Snow Leopard.

The partner Snow Leopard threw himself into the
path of one wolf-dog, and sank his fangs into the
wolf-body’s neck, ripping open its throat.  But the
other three wolf-dogs contacted the smallest Snow
Leopard – one met her fangs in his neck and went
limp in death, but each of the other two wolf-heads
grasped her back legs – and in a snapping sound
like a twig overburdened with ice, their jaws broke
each of her legs.

The five remaining Snow Leopards burst into the
fight hissing and snarling, drawing wolf-body blood
with every strike of their claws.  The two surviving
wolf-dogs were dead in seconds, and each
dissolved into clouds of black flies carried away by
the mountain wind.

But the smallest Snow Leopard lay in the white
layers, bleeding, and whimpering in pain.

The Lion’s eyes glowed.

“The first level of battle is done.” He growled.  “Let
the second level of battle begin.”

“Mountain Wind!” snarled the Lion, “Show yourself!”

At that moment, a creature like a white orangutan,
but having three horns on its back, appeared
before the Lion.

“We meet again, Sub-Elder.” Stated the Lion.

“The Tigress is mine!” shouted the creature.

“Try to claim her, then.” Replied the Lion.

And the creature waddled forward, and then
screamed in pain.  Jerking back, there was blood in
the snow by his feet – for the pointed bamboo had
cut into him.

“He abandoned you long ago!”  the creature
shouted at the bamboo, and indeed, several sharp
points retracted and vanished.

“He let you suffer so much, why should you pray for
the Tigress!” he shouted again, and indeed, more
sharp points retracted and vanished.

“You are overwhelmed by your own pain… so much
pain… why pray for her slight pains!”  he shouted
again, and this time, a few more bamboo stakes
vanished, although several more appeared.

“You forget,” stated the Lion, “that for some, the
mention of pain causes more prayer.”

“But there is now a path.” Snarled back the
creature, and indeed, there was a small path open.  
And the creature waddled through the path.  

The Tigress remained in her nightmares -- her
claws reaching out from the warmth of the Lion
standing over her, and curling, as if still in battle.  In
delirium, she mumbled, “Please pray, my adopted
family, for this one....”

Instantly, more bamboo spikes pushed up and into
the feet of the creature.  He screamed, and stood
still, unable to progress.

“The second level of battle is done.” Growled the
Lion.

“I demand the 'Test of Blessing'!” shouted the
creature, bending and swaying from the pain in his
feet.

“I will allow it.” Replied the Lion.

“Nightmares of injustice!” shouted the creature,
and black smoke came from his mouth, and moved
to the head of the Tigress.

The Tigress, in her sleep, growled deeply.  She saw
once again, the injustices handed to her by the
black tigers, by her bound-mate, by her children,
and by many others.

“Bless those that cursed you.” Whispered the Lion,
and white smoke came from his mouth, and moved
to the head of the Tigress.

The Tigress, still in delirium, heard the Lion’s words,
but she also saw all the injustices.  She mumbled, “I
choose….”

The creature, even with blooded feet, began to
uphold his hands in victory.

The Tigress opened her eyes for a moment, then
murmured, “I choose…. bless those that cursed
me.”  And then she fell back into exhaustion.

“The third level of battle is done!” shouted the Lion.

And then, the Lion glowed from golden colored to
white, and took on the form of a people-one.

He was average in size, and covered with a simple
white robe.  Each of his hands was scarred deeply.  

The bamboo spikes glowed also, and were
suddenly replaced by small urns of burning incense.  

The orangutan-like creature glowed as well, and
changed into an older man-like creature with three
horns on his back and twisted wings.  He shouted,
“Dare you punish me before the appointed time?”

The small man looked at the older-man with pity
and grief.  “Sub-elder” he said, “be gone.”

The older man-creature reached forward, as if to
object – but instead turned into clouds of black flies,
and swarmed downward, as if disappearing into
the ground.

The snow-storm stopped.  The wind ceased.  The
air became silent, as if in awe of the presence of
the small man.

Six creatures resembling people-ones with wings
were walking towards the small man.  The largest
of the winged ones was carrying a smaller
wounded people-one in his arms.

“My Lord!”  called out the enormous winged-one.  
“Norticus is wounded.”

The winged ones reached the small man and stood
before him.  

The small man looked at the wounded one – she
seemed to be half the size of the one carrying her,
with graceful and soft wings.

“Door-Closer and Ark-Builder” the small man called
out.  

“Yes, Lord.”  Answered two of the winged ones.

“Take Norticus to my Father’s throne,” said the
small man.  “Let her behold His face.  He will touch
and heal this brave guardian angel.”

The two winged ones reached over to the wounded
Norticus, touched her, and then all three began to
rise upward into the sky… and then… were gone.

“Unstoppable-River,” said the small man, “I wish
you and the other three to stay with me for a time.”

“Yes, Lord.”  Replied the largest of the winged-
ones.  The other three nodded their head in
agreement.

And then, the small man and winged ones, glowed
into white, and shimmered into golden colors.  A
Lion and four Snow Leopards stood in their place.

And then, they all glowed yet again, shimmered …
and seemed to vanish…. As they became the Wind
and four breezes.

“Tigress,” whispered the Wind.  “Wake up, it is time
to go back to the jungle.”

And the Tigress awoke from her nightmares.  She
looked about, blinking her golden eyes.

“Twas quite a nightmare,” she mumbled to the
Wind.

“It was?” asked the Wind.

“Indeed,” said the Tigress, raising her frame slowly
off the ground.

“Do tell.” Said the Wind.

“It was frightening.  It was horrible.” Replied the
Tigress, beginning to walk with the Wind down the
mountain path very slowly.

“What was so bad?” asked the Wind.

“For a moment, in my worst nightmare,” replied the
Tigress, “you became a people-one!”

And the Wind laughed.

And laughed.

And laughed.

Until the Tigress laughed as well.

And then, the Wind and the Tigress walked down
the mountain paths towards the jungle, as a large
breeze before them cleared the remaining snow
out of their way.




*********************




(c) Copyright Caryn LeMur 2007
(C) Copyright 2007 Caryn LeMur
The Wind And The Tigress

September, 2007