We Shall Behold Him
“I, Jesus, have sent my angel to give you this testimony for the churches.
I am the Root and the off spring of David, and the bright Morning Star.” Rev. 22:16
Chapter XXIV
An old astronomer clasped his
protege and said,
“If Polaris dies tonight,
Be assured some greater light
will take its place.”
Ansond guided his mount above
a mountain range. He saw the
spires of the City of the Troubadour.
A lovely city without walls, for
walls though not forbidden were
forgotten. In worlds where evil has
not come walls never come to mind.
Invictrix skimmed a sunlit tower
and flew down to the plaza where
the children played. The steed
alighted. Ansond walked through
an arched portal and saw the Singer
sitting with his lyre. He saw
Ansond and rose to meet him.
The two embraced.
“Earthmaker is sovereign love!”
said Ansond.
“The music of the universe!” agreed
the Troubadour.
“Halana to the Father-Spirit!”
cried the Golden Knight.
“Come with me!” the Singer said.
They walked to the Plaza of Peace.
In the center of the square a
sphere of bright transparent glass
rested on one crystal’s very point.
In the center of the sphere was a
world about the size that Terra Two
had been the day she rode into the
final battle of the War of Fire.
“It is Terra One—a replica,
exact and scaled,” the Singer said.
“Forever sealed?” inquired Ansond.
“Forever,” agreed the Troubadour.
“And we can never hear the anguish
from its center?” The Golden
Knight seemed troubled.
“Never. There shall be silence
where the Dark Prince writhes in
chains.”
“He is small indeed to live in such
a tiny world as this.”
“His is a dwindling point of death
within a growing universe of joy.”
“Come, “said the Singer. They
walked again.
Soon they came to a grand reliquary
on a distant ivory causeway. There
was a cube of glass and deep within
a replica of the Great Machine of Death.
“Why keep this?” Ansond asked.
“It was the only hope of Terra One.
Those who walk this newer world are
here because I chose to die down
there between the gears and ropes.”
“What was it like to die?” the
Golden Knight asked.
“Be grateful you shall never have
to know.”
The troubadour looked thoughtfully
away. “When it was over, I held
a new relationship with men. Even
Terra One died. Death does not
matter.” The Singer gestured to
the glistening world of Terra
Two. “Dying is not final, only life.”
Ansond looked at the scars of death
still marking the Prince’s hands.
“You are the Singer, Prince and
Troubadour!”
There was music all around them in
the air.
They sang the Star-Song, and far
above the Crystal Chair, their
music drifted outward on the
universe.
“Earthmaker viewed the sculptured
dignity
Of man, God-like and strident,
President
Of everything that is,
content to be
His intimate and only earthen
friend.”
HALANA
“Behold, I am coming soon! Blessed is he who keeps the words of the prophecy in this book”
He will Save us and Wipe away our sorrows, for our names are written on the palm of His Hand. ~Zoey
The Finale
a poetic narrative in the tradition of C.S. Lewis’s Narnia Chronicles and J.R.R. Tolkien’s Lord of the Rings trilogy –is Calvin Miller’s completion to his own trilogy which includes the very popular The Singer and The Song. In this final volume, Miller tell the story of the Singer’s last battle with World Hater and envisions in dynamic prose-poetry the winding up of history on Terra One and the creation of Terra Two. As The Singer parallels the story of the Gospels and The Song parallels the book of Acts, so the The Finale is an artistic retelling of the Book of Revelation.
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