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Quotations from The Third Verse Trilogy
For longer excerpts from the trilogy, please scroll down. This addition contains shorter quotations and their sources. Just contact us if you wish to use a quotation for your own purposes.
"During occasional moments when I could tune in, my attention was again drawn to the understanding that, rather than apparent flesh and bone, blood and marrow, the body consisted of shimmering and resonating microcosmic particles. It was more space than substance. And in this space was -- rather than nothing -- everything. It was energy, and the energy was light." ~ The El-eventh Hour, p. 212.
"Each person came out onto the ledge sharing in a particular perceptual mobility known as 'staying balanced on a shifting slope.'" The Twelfth Age, p. 250.
"The Els have transmitted to Antenor and through him to his people these fundamentals: humans cannot become Els because they are not of that race. They can, however, achieve the state beyond time, beyond matter, which is higher on the evolutionary scale. And they have imparted a grand kaleidoscopic view of the interactions and relationships among the universes that make up what they call the Omniverse..." -The El-eventh Hour, p. 220.
We exhibited at a street fair, and a long-time fan of the trilogy came up with his book in hand. He insisted on reading a passage aloud to me. This gentleman has since left the earthly realm, so we begin our collection of quotations with his reading. Dedicated to the memory of Russell Palmer:
"More rustling in the trees lulls Sapphire further into her delicious doze where time suspends and all of existence transforms into unburdened bliss, like the faintest of prolonged notes played upon one harp-string." -The Tenth Muse, p. 42.
Excerpts from Volume III, The Twelfth Age:
Readers of The Tenth Muse and The El-eventh Hour will recall that The Third Verse Trilogy spans parallel planets Earth and Zamora. Largely set on planet Zamora, The Twelfth Age includes a guide to primary places following the book's introduction.
The following excerpt is from Chapter 4, "Zamora: Nagawa, Naikai." Each chapter heading designates its location. In this case, Naikai is defined as "the Zamoran parallel to Japan; while not strictly a mirror image, Naikai is an archipelago comprised of several sizeable islands and numerous smaller ones." Nagawa is one of the smaller Naikonese islands, unspoiled by tourism, with primitively terraced farms that surround small hamlets, and with an ancient, austere monastery.
Bruce, a character from The Tenth Muse, has made a reappearance early in Volume III. He has made a bold decision to travel from Anerico to seek out Tashami-roku, our new heroine, out of concern for her:
"Around the second curve he saw her walking on the verge. She stopped when his car appeared. Against the backdrop of a stand of cedars, white light enveloped her. Bruce thought for a moment that he was having a vision brought on by fatigue, the light was so brilliant. He eased the car onto a gentle grassy embankment near where she stood, then turned off the engine. He sat there for a moment before opening the door, feeling that time had slowed down, that he moved in molasses. At last he managed to get out of the car.
"When he walked toward Tashami-roku he saw her as if for the first time. She wore a strange garment—long, neutral of color, appearing made from a type of linen. A simple square black pouch that hung from a wide shoulder strap was at her side. She seemed to have stepped out of another era. Her hair, dark as a starless night, was coiled behind her head. Her pale, unsmiling face was devoid of any trace of cosmetics. Shami moved to meet him."
Chapter 5, "Zamora: Busho, Naikai and Saikai Sea" offers a glimpse into the quest that has sent Shami on a sudden return to her home country, and Bruce to follow her. This mysterious, alluring tale of the ancient prophet Stair will ultimately draw all prominent characters in the trilogy together at the crest of Dwarnstile. Here Shami shares part of this tale with Bruce:
“During one of his lengthy retreats, after he placed his final folio for collection and storage, the people grew concerned because the food or water left for him remained untouched. After a few days, three strong men gained entrance to the prophet’s chamber, something never before done. They found all in order, except that it was vacant. Stair had disappeared and was never seen again.”
“Disappeared! You said this yesterday, didn’t you? That he vanished, and something about their finding a tunnel system connected with his apartment.”
“Yes, that is right. The household was in agreement that the tunnel system must not be closed off in case of the possibility Stair would return from there. None of them, however, overcame their fears in order to explore the tunnels. I think these superstitions were in part related to the terrible earthquake, the disappearance of so much of their continent and countrymen into the ocean.
“The caretakers and librarians performed a wonderful service in preserving Stair’s predictions. As you know, these have been copied and analyzed throughout Zamoran history. He told not only of the future as he saw it—he also reached into the past and revealed events professed to have occurred over millennia.
“Stair told of nine previous ages on Zamora, ages in development of human intellect, spirituality, as well as discoveries from the minute to the cosmic. Centuries previous to Stair’s time Zamorans had entered the Tenth Age, an age of feudal, tightly-ruled kingdoms. He predicted the age to come that would bring technological advancements beyond imagining, which he portrayed with some difficulty.
“Stair’s final folio told of the Twelfth Age, a paradoxical time with the majority ruled by technology and media, greed and power. But conceptual, evolutionary, vibrational limitations would dissolve so that seekers could advance more freely.
“His final prediction was about possibility. If enough seekers would awaken to humankind’s true interconnectedness and caring about one another, there would not be another age to follow, for in the Twelfth Age all Zamoran life—humans, animals, ecosystems, Zamora itself—would pass through a portal of transformation and operate on a higher vibrational level, freed from the concept of time.”
And a final glimpse of the breathtaking primary setting in The Twelfth Age:
Monumental pinnacles and sheer peaks glistened in the morning sun. The Tenzo drew closer to Sharu, heading toward the only inlet that could be seen. Bruce and Shami stood rapt on deck as tremendous formations grew even more gigantic and formidable. Toward the eastern flanks breezes whipped the sea into spume that slammed into huge blocks of stone, looking like so many egret feathers flung helplessly against primordial Zamoran fortifications.
“Dwarnstile.” Shami uttered the ancient name in awe. “I have seen pictures. They did not begin to take the measure of this sight.”
Excerpts from The El-eventh Hour:
Inclusions on introductory page:
“The female represents what in Kantian terminology we call the forms of sensibility. She is time and space itself, and the mystery beyond her is beyond all pairs of opposites. So it isn’t male and it isn’t female. It neither is nor is not. But everything is within her, so that the gods are her children. Everything you can think of, everything you can see, is a production of the Goddess.”
Joseph Campbell 1904-1987
From The Power of Myth, Joseph Campbell with Bill Moyers, 1988. Quoted with permission from Random House.
“Transformative spirituality, authentic spirituality, is…revolutionary. It does not legitimate the world, it breaks the world; it does not console the world, it shatters it. And it does not render the self content, it renders it undone.”
Ken Wilber from What Is Enlightenment? Fall/Winter, 1997. Quoted with permission from Ken Wilber.
"Only the fantastic is likely to be true at the cosmic level." Attributed to Teilhard de Chardin, 1881-1955
In the Sufi tradition, the sound of HU is the most sacred of all sounds as the name of God. Regardless of gender, let us see the words HuMan and HuMankind with new eyes; let's hear them with new ears. As embodiments of divinity, each of us is capable of transformative action.
The Third Verse Trilogy embraces a story about becoming—becoming within the context of recognizing the true nature of reality. Most people have at one time or another arrived at a juncture where a choice must be made. At such a time there’s a dramatic insight into potentiality. The array of alternatives from which to choose one’s path to walk can either be confusing or confirming.
It has been said that throughout our lives, multitudes of possibilities simultaneously take place, dormant and inactivated until becoming enabled through conscious choice.
Opal on Planet Earth and Sapphire on Planet Zamora attained reunification on a higher dimension, enabling them to evolve within the dynamic focus of their spirit-mission as The Tenth Muse, Sappho. They left behind families and friends in their parallel worlds who were called upon to carry on with their lives forever changed in outlook. The worlds left behind were changing, too. Opal and Sapphire’s families watched world events unfold that were unheard of in former times. Such events once would have been considered miraculous or highly improbable. They began to relinquish former preconceptions and recognize that old limitations no longer ruled.
The El-eventh Hour continues the story of becoming with the lives of family and friends Opal appeared to have left behind. The El-eventh Hour is about making choices, taking responsibility, and above all, about transcending duality by turning toward the unseen mind to see vividly, as it is.
Hopi and Mayan elders, Egyptologists, and shamans Earth-wide had brought forth ancient knowledge supported by new research findings that exposed the inaccuracy of the Gregorian calendar. Their efforts to make known this corrected designation of time as measured by the majority of HuMankind were ignored by most branches of the media, but not by a significant number of people who made up the circle of wisdom-seekers.
So it was that one small group of seekers—with knowledge that the year was actually 2012, in spite of what calendars showed—spent the night together on a high slope of a mountain known throughout and beyond Earth’s realm for its mystery and mastery.
The day had dawned to catastrophe. They held each other close in a huddle as turmoil engulfed them. Mighty gusts of wind threatened to rip them from the rocks to which they clung. Compounding their terror was what they saw whenever the surrounding cloud banks parted briefly. Far below, where people had lived in the mountain’s realm, a sea of water appeared to surge—mightier in scope and thrust than a tsunami. Even this was eclipsed by what they felt beneath them. The mountain itself shook as if to loosen their hold once and for all.
Each one called out to their spiritual guides, gods, and helpers, and to the Lady of Lamartine who had once been embodied in one of their own.
Amidst calamitous sound and fury, a great scraping noise could be heard above their heads. They looked up at the stone overhang far above to witness an unbelievable spectacle illuminated by a lightning flash. A great ladder came down from the stone shelf, closer and closer to the portion of slope they occupied. The strongest of them, a man of courage, pushed against the force of wind to lean out, to look upwards. A shimmering being of light swathed in a blue-violet glow looked down from the rock shelf and signaled for him to climb up the ladder.
There was no way of knowing if the ladder would hold, if it would be swept away by the storm, or what might be met at the top of it. They only knew that they’d ultimately perish if they remained in the midst of the storm. So the man drew his daughter by the hand and placed her before him on the first rung with his arm around her waist. He reached out his other hand to signal the others, then took the arm of his wife to have her follow him.
Somehow in the storm’s flash and glare, pelted by icy sheets of half rain and half snow, and deafened by thunderclaps, each moved up a fantastic giant ladder to meet with the one to whom they must entrust their lives.
A tall, diaphanous being clad in a white robe and shrouded in a delicate blue-violet light stepped back slightly to allow each of them onto the high stone shelf. They came into a sphere of marvelous vitality conjoined with tranquility. In that improbable place, among fallen boulders on a ledge of high rock, was the scent of an English garden.
The being turned away from them. He entered through an opening right into the mountain. His form cast a faint glow. They saw a hand reach out beckoning them to follow. One by one, they did.
Miranda Logan, pages 3 and 4:
It seems like once I heard that lecture, related information popped up everywhere. Funny how that happens, like someone I hadn’t seen in a long time turned up somewhere, and then I’d keep running into that person at the grocery store or post office, as though we were meant to be in each other’s lives. People have said there are no coincidences, only synchronistic events that need to be noticed. I really paid attention when I opened to articles during the summer with references leading to texts offering a whole array of theories and discoveries supporting the multi-dimensional experience we share.
I learned that one universe could “bud” off another, and that another dimension, another universe, could be one millimeter from us. The vortices of Earth came to the fore. We knew about the Bermuda Triangle, where mysterious disappearances had taken place. I learned that there are nine more “Bermuda Triangles” and that the spinning axis of a planet in another dimension may exist at these vortices. I read an intriguing comment about us being the hyperspace of another dimension. I’d often think about concepts of interconnectedness generated by the remark.
Miranda wore flannel nightwear with her parka over it and heavy long socks. She had her high-altitude sleeping bag drawn right over her head and expected to fall immediately to sleep after the day’s ordeal. Yet the luxury was withheld for a time. Her mental review kept her awake more than physical complaints of hard ground beneath her, the unforgiving cold, chafed shoulders from her pack’s weight, and an accumulation of strained muscles.
The team had reached the ridge pass well before nightfall. To a person, each member was mute as they topped the barrier of rock. Before them was a vast prospect ending at the skyline of glacier-studded Andean peaks which they had viewed from outlooks en route to Chaullay. Obscuring the base of those peaks, ranging outward from below the ridge they stood on, loomed a wilderness of steep gorges that appeared impossible to descend.
“Bohm felt that it is vital to go beyond thought, for which meditation is one possible path. Meditation would even bring us out of all [the difficulties] we've been talking about. . . somewhere we've got to leave thought behind, and come to this emptiness of manifest thought altogether. . . In other words, meditation actually transforms the mind. It transforms consciousness." *
Miranda’s thoughts rested in the memory of David Bohm’s words and what developed from them. She recalled a fragment having to do with how our lingual structures, as Bohm put it, “deceive us about the true nature of reality”…“all manifest objects are in a state of constant flux and change. So there is really no such thing as a thing; all objects are dynamic processes rather than static forms. To put it crudely, one could say that nouns do not really exist, only verbs exist. A noun is just a ‘slow’ verb; that is, it refers to a process that is progressing so slowly so as to appear static.”*
Words faded. Their implications did not.
* Excerpts from Lifework of David Bohm – River of Truth by Will Keepin, Ph.D. as found on “Articles” page at www.satyana.org. Quoted with permission from Dr. Keepin.
Willa Carson, pages 163 and 164:
"...another interesting insight that comes to mind is this: there were three great ancient world civilizations existing side by side. We hear the most about Atlantis and Lemuria due to their spectacular sinking beneath the oceans, but it’s been a well-kept secret about the third empire, which is Amazonian. South America is the site of such advancement that Lemurian and Atlantean priests and leaders were mentored by the Amazonians. They were responsible for architectural wonders and for the Great Wall of Peru, among other feats, and also for harnessing Solar Light Energy—which I guess explains the mysterious light in these caverns and tunnels that dims when the sun sets.
“Yet what happened? The empire became dormant and swallowed up by thousands of miles of dense jungle. Not submerged and yet shrouded—its repositories of ancient wisdom were held under protection in wait for a specific convergence of time and for people guided by a higher purpose than the masses. You know, we may speculate that this catastrophe has come to pass because of changes in Earth’s magnetic field, etcetera, and well that may be. More than that, though, what might really be influencing these matters has always been right in front of us; humankind’s own thinking.
“Margot, I committed a passage spoken by Tatunca Nara to memory: ‘The White Barbarians are destroying their own world with their false beliefs. They are blinded to such an extent they do not even recognize their origin. For only he who knows his past will also find the way into the future.’ *
“We’re here right now for more than a mere mission of search and find. I think the pure energy of a young woman with high aspirations has assisted us in coming right to the heart of one of the ancient repositories, and she’s been recognized and welcomed by those keepers of wisdom. In my opinion, we’ve just come to the brink of a breathtaking opportunity to participate in true discovery of human possibilities.”
*The Chronicle of Akakor by Karl Brugger, 1977, Delacorte Press. Quoted with permission from Random House, Inc.
Exchange among Margot Kinsey, Miranda Logan, and Sirwarqenti in a Tanum kitchen, pages 208 and 209:
We took a right turn and had drawn closer to one of the curving cavern walls than I’d yet come. Another large building on our left backed right up to that wall, that light-colored gray stone that rose up and curved to become ceiling over the immense cave-city. Women’s voices echoed through the doorway from inside, and when we entered they exclaimed to see us. A shy girl, just a year or two short of becoming a woman, approached and handed a flask to me.
“Yusulpayki,” I said, not without stumbling over the unfamiliar syllables. “Thank you” was the only term I’d yet mastered. I lost no time in unstopping the flask and sipping the tea.
As I drank, Willa asked, “Miranda, are you sure you don’t feel weak or ill? You’ve been away so long.” I shook my head yet again. I’d lost count of how many inquiries there had already been about my state. They were so concerned.
“You know, we can hardly contain ourselves until we hear your story,” Margot said. “That was an awe-inspiring up-close look at that—creature, that El. Why did he stand there staring at Antenor for so long?”
I looked up from a small bowl of rehydrated fruit that Qenti had handed to me and replied, “He was communicating with him.”
The fruit was delicious beyond words. I’d never tasted a fruit so divine, not even a cherimoya. I could taste the sun in it from its drying process. What heaven.
“Qenti, this must be something you save for special occasions. I feel honored to eat this. Thank you, yusulpayki. Yusulpayki.” When I rolled that word around a time or two, Qenti laughed.
“It give strength,” she said.
Everyone seemed to think I had lost strength or given it away, but to the contrary. I had never felt as vital as I did then.
Qoyllor Miranda Victoria, page 263:
From every side, it seemed like insanity. Against advice from all sources, risking injury and starvation to reach the shore of a body of water born of a global catastrophe, inhaling its rotten stench, moving at the mercy of insect swarms, and then standing there staring at what was left of a wrecked sloop, taking in two words that told me I had to find a way to climb up there—well, that had to be insanity.
Mystery character, page 271:
"In my case I wasn’t religious and I’m still not, but everything Branicor shared with me went straight and deep inside of me like no preacher’s words ever had. I was a bell and at last I’d been rung. The word ‘truth’ had always been slung around and was meaningless until I felt and heard truth. That’s when I started to explore higher levels of consciousness for myself.
“I couldn’t even stand to eat meat any more after he pointed out the best reason I’d ever heard—not eating something that once lived and had feelings. He told me to think back to a beloved pet during my childhood. ‘Imagine slaughtering your pet and taking all the steps to have him for dinner. Essentially you have the same relationship with all living beings,’ he said."
All material Copyright 2013 Lily G. Stephen.
No reproduction in any form without permission of the author.
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