I am just one tiny source on the oasis. Even thirsty people can carry water. Do not expect much of me or of yourself. The journey is alike for us all. We must drink or die of thirst.

Long ago a spark became a raging fire and consumed all of the books written about the heart. Now each heart must be awakened from within. The water you find is just another way to remind you of that.

The caravan is within as well. It is such a solitary journey that it can be no other way. You only have room for one heart. It simultaneously contains all other hearts. Drink while you can, before the caravan moves on.

There are no camels with tinkling bells. Just your own threadbare robe and callused feet. You gave up hope long ago and now faith has made it to the forefront of the caravan.

The word “love” is no longer of any help. Your thirst has moved you beyond human love. Perhaps there is more, perhaps a love that cannot be discovered except within.

I remember a verse I read long ago before all the books became dust. “Straight is the way and narrow is the gate and few there be that enter in.” And you understand it in a new way. For you have entered the narrowest gate of all, your own fear and doubt. Just press on. Keep walking.

When you have forgotten your name and your form has faded in the dark of night, take one more drink of water. Yes, that’s it. You have made it through the gate. You are home and home is now seen as a place that only you can ever know. It is not loneliness; it is solitude. The gang of people in the caravan have vanished.

You stand alone now and do not have to travel ever again. Instead you are like a signal tower for others just beginning the journey. Be still and know this.

Vicki Woodyard