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The thunderheads began to gather in the blue sky above the far mountains, and the leaves on the trees hanging over the waters of the river turned backward in a sudden gust of wind. Thunder growled and lightning ran through the white clouds above the snowy peaks.
The seeker sat under a large oak tree watching the river – the river ever flowing past to the sea, while its brown waters lap at the sandy shores with a murmuring sound.
“It is like the great River of God,” said the seeker. “Will I ever see the great River which John spoke of in Revelation?” “Definitely,” said the Tibetan. “Take me? Where shall we go? Ask the seeker in awe.
“Beyond the worlds of God’s cosmic space. Into the far reaches of those spiritual regions where the foot of man has never trod, and where only soul can journey. We will go where time, space, imagination, and ideas have no existence. Where only the true realities abides. That is where you shall see the River of God.
“How will we go?” asked the seeker eagerly.
“Just close thine eyes, and look into the Spiritual Eye (that point between the two eye brows). Wait for me to come. Then I shall take the into the glorious sight of the divine River of God.
The seeker closed his eyes and looked minutely into the Spiritual Eye. Gradually out of the darkness came the flowing rain of misty, yellow light, which enveloped in a swirling cloud. With it came a strange humming sound like a thousand bee swarming through his head.
The light suddenly swirled fiercely and stopped, and he seemed to have a strange feeling of something happening to his body a sucking sound, a motion, occurred at the top of his head, and there was a pop like a cord from a bottle, and he seemed to be lifted upward in a grand swoop. Surprised, he stopped, and stood looking at the body sitting on the ground. He said in amazement, “That’s me!”
Then he looked at himself and saw the body he wore was something like a white sheath. The Tibetan was standing only a few feet away in similar attire.
“Take my hand. Have faith. I will show thee the River of God!”
The seeker closed his eyes and held tight to the teacher’s hand, and they seemed to fly through space. Within a matter of moments he heard his companion’s voice say to open his eyes.
He was astounded. They seemed to be standing on the top of a vast wide tableland, overlooking a long valley in a dazzling white world. In the distance was a white, round circle that gleamed with wondrous brightness, and its distance from them could have been a hundred miles, or a thousand, he could not tell. Out of it poured a white, molten stream of light so bright that he could hardly look at it and this light spread into the world becoming like rain falling upon the cosmic land of God.
“There is God,” said the Tibetan, pointing to the white disk in the great sky. “Out of God comes the River of Light; flowing endlessly. You cannot go any closer or you would die, for God will not let anything of imperfection approach Him.
“As the river is made of drops of water, so is the River of God is made of the pure atoms whish circulate throughout the worlds of God, down to the top three worlds. Then it returns to God, still pure in its form.
“Now you have seen and must go back!”
The seeker closed his eyes again. Upon reopening them, he found the Master and himself sitting by the river, in a gentle rain. The Master moved under the tree, and moved his hands with a familiar gesture.
“You see,” he said in a most gentle voice, “I can give you the experience that you desire!”
