The Saint
Dedicated to: Years too late to solve a problem with no solution.
"And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."
― Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince
The light of the sun filtered down through the dense foliage of the forest trees overhead, eventually coming to rest on the figure of a monk, kneeling by himself, lost deep in prayer. He had lived this way for countless years, sustaining his physical body off of the bounty of the land as he strived for the ideal of spiritual perfection. The brown robes that clung to his frail body were tattered from the constant bombardment of changing seasons and they showed the true depth of this man's undying devotion for his spiritual body. His lips moved in a barely audible chant, a chant mastered through years of hard physical suffering and hours of concentration.
The monk was aware of the subtle sounds of the forest. He was in tune with each audible change as it happened, able to maintain his level of concentration despite his enhanced perception of his surroundings. When the first signs of approaching footsteps reached his senses he continued his chant, refusing to allow such a petty tribulation to break his prayer. As the footsteps grew closer, the monk continued to pray, acting as if he were still alone.
When the woman reached the monk in prayer she stood there before him, keenly eyeing him and watching as he continued to pray as if nothing were amiss. Silently, she sat down, crossing her legs in imitation of the monk's posture. The monk sensed the woman's presence close to his own, but refusing to be deterred, he continued to chant.
The prayer must be finished.
The woman sat, patiently waiting in silence for the monk to finish his chant, trying to read the indecipherable words as they poured from his lips into the dense, earthy air that surrounded them. As the last words left the mouth of the monk, his face grew still with a certain serenity that was entirely foreign to one as worldly as the woman before him.
"I've traveled a great distance to find you," spoke the woman as she studied the face of the monk.
The monk opened his eyes and gazed upon the woman. She was darker skinned and had flowing crimson hair that fell down her back in long locks. The pale blue silk dress she wore complimented her womanly form in ways that would have excited most men, but merely caused the monk to take careful note. Her feet were clad in a pair of well-crafted leather sandals that exhibited her high social status in the world.
As the monk looked at the woman, she made eye contact with him, holding his unwavering gaze. Her eyes were a sparkling hazel that reflected the dim light back in a hypnotizing way, seeming to contain within them the power to trap a man's soul.
"For what purpose have you come to find me?" the monk spoke, the first time he had spoken in many years to another human.
"I've heard stories of you," replied the woman casually as she lifted a hand, resting her chin, "I wanted to come and meet the man who has transcended his own humanity."
"What would make you wish to meet me?" the monk continued to watch the woman with a stoical expression on his face, unmoved by her overwhelming allure, "I am but a simple monk."
"I suppose that I wanted to ask you what is the purpose of our lives," the woman cocked her head slightly to the side as she smiled, "Seeing as you live quite differently from one such as myself."
"My answer would be quite different from yours," replied the monk as he folded his hands in his lap, "For one such as myself does not live as you do."
The woman laughed, her hair catching the rays of light as her body shook from frivolity, "Well that one should be fairly obvious, even to a worldly woman."
The monk felt himself smile slightly at her jest, "Then have you traveled all this way just to ask the one question, or are there others?"
"I have many others," said the woman, regaining her more serious composure instantly, "That is if you have the inclination to talk with me."
"I can see no reason not to," the monk shifted his position slightly, "What do you wish to know?"
"Why would you choose a life of hardship and solitude over the type of life you could have?" queried the woman.
"There are things more important than the physical body in this world," the monk looked at the beams of light penetrating the forest canopy, "One cannot judge value simply by the appearance or feeling of an object or experience."
"A truly deep thought," pondered the woman, "But what about the needs of your body? Do you not feel the need to satiate them?"
"My flesh responds in the same ways that yours does," replied the monk, "I have simply grown accustomed to the feeling of denying myself the pleasures that you seek in life."
"Do you remember who I am?" asked the woman, staring at the monk intently, "Have you met me before?"
The monk nodded silently before replying, "I do remember who you are, for we have met, once before when I was a young man, during the time before I became a monk."
"Ah," the woman spoke, "So you do remember after all."
"Yes," the monk furrowed his brow, "But it was many years ago."
"Do you not miss those times?" the woman pressed the monk, "Do you not miss being my lover?"
"I have found a love greater than yours," replied the monk smoothly, "I have no need for the physical love you have to offer me any longer."
"There are many men who would kill for my love," the woman spoke cooly, "Men who would start wars and burn whole kingdoms, simply to spend the night in my presence."
"I imagine so," replied the monk, "But it is as I have said, I have no further need for the physical pleasures you have to offer me."
"I'll be the judge of that," the woman spoke slyly, standing up as she pulled the dress from her shoulders, allowing it to drop to the forest floor, placing herself on full display in front of the monk, "Gaze upon me and tell me that you still feel no urge for the physical pleasures I can offer."
The monk turned his eyes upon the woman's naked body, his eyes studied the familiar outline of her form. She had matured into a woman of true and unique beauty, a perfect specimen of health and fertility. Her dark skin radiated the forest light as her crimson hair flowed freely, complimenting the perfect curves of her body. It was a sight that would have driven many men to a level of lust once unimaginable. The monk continued to watch, unaffected by the brazen display put on by the woman.
"I have no need for what you offer to me," replied the monk as he watched the woman's face.
"Hmmm," the woman bent down, picking up the dress as she slipped back into it, "Apparently you tell the truth."
"What reason would I have to lie to you?" the monk questioned.
"I'm not sure," the woman pondered, "What reason would I have to try and break you of your spiritual life?"
"It is the desire within to destroy that which is unattainable," replied the monk with little thought, "It dwells within all humans, even myself."
"What is unattainable for one who has transcended his humanity?" the woman sat back down in front of the monk after she had finished fixing her dress.
"Physical comfort," the monk spoke slowly, "The ability to be human."
"That should be simple to attain in your case," the woman responded, "All it would take is the abandonment of your spiritual life."
"It is not what I need," replied the monk, "Everything I need is provided to me here in the forest."
"I appear to have no choice but to believe you," spoke the woman, "In which case, I must be returning to my life now."
"I hope that you find what you seek," the monk spoke, looking at the woman's eyes again.
"As do I for you," said the woman as she stood up, "It was good to see you again after all of these years."
"Farewell," replied the monk, raising a hand in parting.
"Goodbye," the woman turned and began to walk back through the forest, following the path she had taken earlier.
The monk closed his eyes and began to chant again, listening to the woman's footsteps as they retreated into the distant forest. Soon the only sounds he could hear were of his own making and that of the natural rhythm of forest life. The thoughts of the woman vanished from his mind as quickly as she had appeared to him earlier. He was left with a single repeating mantra running through his mind.
The prayer must be finished.