Heart of Darkness

The pilgrims sailed down the river,

With swollen egos and false expectations of what awaited them on their journey,

Nothing could prepare them for the darkness within the depths of the forest.

As their flashlights shined into the dense tree line along the coast,

Corneas of many colors and sizes reflected light back,

However dark it appeared, the forest was alive.

As their vessel made its way through the twists and turns of the ancient River,

The great river seemed like it would never end.

Navigating against the flow of the river, the pilgrims were on a path towards its very source,

Where the rumored treasures hidden long ago still rested. 

But their path was not an easy one,

Many had tried before them to reach this paradise within the jungle,

The life-source of the river itself. 

The Captain of the riverboat,
A veteran sailor of the river which he had made his home,

he had lead many excursions into the river,

however even he had not traveled as deep as the pilgrims dared.

The primordial waters of the river were also teeming with life,

fish swimming along side the boat would thrash upon its sides, 

as if it was signal to the boat to turn around and go back. 

Even the fish knew the dangers that the pilgrims would face,

not even the protection provided by their boat could save them from what lurked in the jungles surrounding them.

The ancient trees that towered above them had lived for centuries,

they had seen the early youth of the jungle, 

when light still reached the forest floor,

before the growing darkness that encompassed the forest. 

The trees love of light led to the darkness,

as each leaf was a shrine to the light that shone on it,

but their blind desire for growth, the trees altered the forests forever. 

The Pilgrims were lovers on the path,
One played the longing melancholy ney,
And as the Ney cried to the jungle about its separation from whence it came,
The monkeys in the treetops responded in their shrill screams
As if they understood the sobbing ney's plight.
The other played the booming Daf,
With each thundering beat of the drum,
The trees swayed back and forth,
A metronome for the daf to follow.


The Captain had saved a bottle of the finest wine,
And overwhelmed by the song and dance of the pilgrims,
He shared the bottle with the dancing pilgrims,
and drunkenness overtook them all in their dizzying flight.
The captain let go of the ship's wheel,
And the ship began to turn,
Like a dancing darvish, the boat spun around,
Until the river's current grabbed hold of the ship and carried it,
And in his drunken stupor the captain did not fight the river,
The boat slowly drifted where ever the river desired.


When they awoke,
A bright, natural light shone upon the Captain's face,
As he wiped his face,
The light crept between his eyelids,
And the hangover from the night before was strong,
The power of the light was too great upon the weak soul of the captain,
As he bent over and keeled in displeasure.
When he looked around, he realized where the river had taken them,
They were at the river's source!
The great lagoon had not been tainted by the tree's passion,
The Sun shone deep into the water's silvery bed,
And the light reflected off the golden shimmers of the fish scales.
The Pilgrims disembarked at the edge of the lagoon,
Paid the Captain,
And told him that this was where they were to stay.


At the Heart of the Darkness,
If you can survive the journey through and through,
You will find the source of all the light around the darkness,
For without darkness, the light would not have its power.
But one must not seek the heart from where the darkness comes,
Lose yourself in the journey,
Let the path decide where it will take you,
And only then will the Light bestow itself upon your soul,
And reveal your true self to the world.