THEOSOPHY, Vol. 86, No. 1, November, 1997
(Page 21; Size: 3K)


[Article number (19) in this Department]


THERE ONCE LIVED an Indian lad who possessed the gift of second sight. His name was Eagle Eyes -- he who sees in all directions. Being of pure heart the watching gods granted him the boon of observing the work of the Great Weavers, whose task it was to weave the fabric of life. They worked swiftly and surely with shuttle and many hued threads on the Great Loom, leaving no shape, form or color unused. Eagle Eyes watched in awe and wonder as the unified mantle of life unfolded. Then he became aware of a persistent tug on his being. He cried out in pain as he felt himself drawn into the warp and woof of the Great Loom. The Weavers spoke, "Did you think you were not also a part of the pattern?" "Yes," come the reply, "but I did not think it painful."

Thus arose the inevitable destiny of awakened consciousness.


The cycles rolled as the Weavers kept at their task. One day the cry of pain became instead a shout of triumphant joy, while Eagle Eyes, wrapped in the glorified fabric of the Whole, stood on the "Pinnacle of Seeing" and viewed every thread as none other than himself. Then the watching gods turned their sight to the Future.

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