The Goddess of Fantasy

(from Thoughts and Meditations by Kahlil Gibran, translated by Anthony Ferris)

After a wearying journey, I reached the ruins of Palmyria.  There, I dropped, exhausted, upon the grass that grew among columns shattered and leveled by the ages. They looked like the debris left by invading armies.

At nightfall, as the black mantle of silence enfolded all creatures, I savored a strange scent in the air. It was as fragrant as incense and as inebriating as wine.  My spirit opened her mouth to sip the ethereal nectar.  Then a hidden hand seemed to press upon my senses and my eyelids grew heavy, while my spirit felt freed of its shackles.

Then the earth swayed under me and the sky trembled over me; whereupon I leaped up as though raised by a magic power.  And I found myself in a meadow the like of which no human being has ever fancied.  I found myself in the midst of a host of virgins who wore no other raiment than the beauty God gave them.  They walked around me, but their feet touched not the grass.  They chanted hymns expressing dreams of love.  Each maiden played on a lute framed with ivory and strung with gold.

I came upon a vast clearing in the center of which stood a throne inlaid with precious stones and illuminated with the rays of the rainbow.  The virgins stood at both sides, raised their voices and faced the direction whence came the scent of myrrh and frankincense.  The trees were in bloom and from between the branches, laden with blossoms, a queen walked majestically to the throne.  As she seated herself, a flock of doves, white as snow, descended and settled around her feet and formed a crescent while the maidens chanted hymns of glory.  I stood there watching what no man's eyes had seen, and hearing what no man's ears had heard.

Then the Queen motioned, and silence fell.  And in a voice that caused my spirit to quiver like the strings of a lute under a player's fingers, she said, "I have called you, man, for I am the Goddess of Fantasy.  I have bestowed upon you the honor of standing before me, the Queen of the prairies of dreams.  Listen to my commandments, for I appoint you to teach them to the whole human race: explain to man that the city of dreams is a wedding feast at whose door a mighty giant stands on guard.  No one may enter unless he wears a wedding garment.  Let it be known that this city is a paradise whose sentinel is the angel of Love, and no human may glance at it save he on whose forehead the sign of Love is inscribed.  Picture to them these beautiful fields whose streams flow with nectar and wine, whose birds sail the skies and sing with the angels.  Describe the aromatic scent of its flowers and let it be known that only the Son of Dream may tread its soft grass.

"Say that I gave man a cupful of joy; but he, in his ignorance, poured it out.  Then the angels of Darkness filled the cup with the brew of Sorrow which he drank and became inebriated. 

"Say that none can play the lyre of Life unless his fingers have been blessed by my touch and his eyes sanctified by the sight of my throne.

"Isaiah composed words of wisdom as a necklace of precious stones mounted on the golden chain of my love.  Saint John recounted his vision in my behalf.  And Dante could not explore the haven of souls save by my guidance.  I am metaphor embracing reality, and reality revealing the singleness of the spirit; and a witness confirming the deeds of the gods.

"Truly I say to you that thoughts have a higher dwelling place than the visible world, and its skies are not clouded by sensuality.  Imagination finds a road to the realm of the gods, and there man can glimpse that which is to be after the soul's liberation from the world of substance."

And the Goddess of Fantasy drew me toward her with her magic glance and imprinted a kiss upon my burning lips and said, "Tell them that he who passes not his days in the realm of dreams is the slave of the days."

Thereupon the voices of the virgins rose again and the column of incense ascended.  Then the earth began to sway again and the sky to tremble; and suddenly I found myself again among Palmyria's sorrowful ruins.

The smiling Dawn had already made its appearance, and between my tongue and lips were these words: "He who passes not his days in the realm of dreams is a slave of the days."