Le Prophète

For twelve years, Almustafa, the chosen and beloved prophet, had sojourned in the city of Orphalese, his spirit often restless, watching from the hills, a silent observer of their lives. Now, the ship that would carry him back to the isle of his birth had appeared through the mists of the harbor, a sight that filled him with both joy and a profound sorrow, for he had scattered fragments of his spirit in these streets and among these people. As he made his way to the great square before the temple, the townspeople gathered, their hearts heavy with the knowledge of his impending departure, imploring him to stay.

It was Almitra, the seeress, the first to believe in him upon his arrival, who spoke for them all, asking that he first impart the wisdom he had gathered during his time among them. And so, Almustafa stood before them, his voice like a gentle breeze carrying ancient truths, and began to speak of the profound mysteries of life, answering their questions on matters that touched the very core of their existence.

He spoke of love, not as a possession, but as a boundless force that binds souls while allowing for individual freedom, a path that is both hard and steep, yet essential. He revealed that marriage, too, is an eternal bond of souls, yet it thrives only when there is ample space for each spirit to dance freely, like the winds of the heavens between the cypress and the oak. Children, he taught, are not truly theirs, but the sons and daughters of Life's longing for itself, coming through them but not from them, their souls belonging to tomorrow.

On giving, he proclaimed that one gives but little when offering only possessions; true giving comes from the heart, a testament to one's own abundance. Work, he said, is love made visible, a way to keep pace with the earth and the soul of the earth, and in laboring, one truly loves life. He guided them to understand joy and sorrow not as separate entities, but as intertwined forces, two sides of the same coin, where the deeper sorrow carves into one's being, the more joy one can contain. Pain, he explained, is but the breaking of the shell that conceals one's understanding, a spiritual awakening that, though painful, allows for growth.

He spoke of houses and clothes, urging them to maintain their spiritual connection with nature, to carry the earth's fragrance in their garments, and to remember that their souls dwell not in houses of stone, but in the boundless sky. He touched upon buying and selling, laws, and even crime and punishment, advocating for compassionate understanding and self-reflection over punitive justice. Freedom, he emphasized, is an internal state, not merely the absence of external chains, and reason and passion are not adversaries but partners, like the rudder and sails of a ship, both essential for navigating life's vast oceans.

Finally, Almustafa addressed the profound mystery of death, likening it not to an end, but to an entrance to the eternal, a rejoining of the divine order, as rivers join the sea. He urged them to embrace it with joy, not fear, for it liberates the soul to ascend unburdened by earthly constraints. His words, a tapestry of wisdom woven with poetic prose, resonated deeply, transforming complex life themes into spiritual reflections that offered a roadmap for navigating the human experience. As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across Orphalese, Almustafa offered his final farewell, stepping onto the ship that would carry him away, leaving behind a city forever touched by his profound insights.