August 1, 2023
By Amba Gale
He was sitting
at the Entrance
to the lobby, the gateway to the event,
when we entered.
“Have a great time,” he said, like he meant it.
Not a casual remark, but an instruction
from a Teacher
“You deserve it,” he told me later.
I passed through the threshold of the lobby to the lawn
where the gate keeper took our tickets
I promised myself I would dance, and I did.
Later, as we left the lawn,
You know, THAT lawn,
where the Great Tree spreads its wings and shelters you in its arms
where you gaze upon the island – your island, where you live — across the passage in the sun
the lawn where you could sing and wave your arms
while the energy of Elvis lights up the sky—
As I exited this other world, this other time, this passage into Play,
This passage into Dance,
there he was once more.
“Who’s driving?” he asked.
We pointed to Don.
“Take care of her,” he said.
She is precious cargo.”
And repeated that three times.
And then awakened the love that binds us.
“He loves you and you love him.”
He said that three times as well.
In case I didn’t get it.
Who was this man who came to awaken?
A Teacher from Beyond?
Our teachers are everywhere,
were we only to listen.