The Prophet recited the cantations, prayed the prayers. He raised his hands and bowed his face to the ground. Slowly, eventually, his lips stopped moving, his breathing slowed and the outside world faded. Prostrate. Listening.
What do you see?
It was the voice - the small whisper, the breeze.
What do you see?
The Prophet's eyes closed.
There was a knoll, it was set against the backdrop of clear blue sky. The knoll was bare of any vegetation save for a lone tree branch - from an almond tree, pink in full bloom, just sitting on the ground.
What do you see?
"I see a branch, from an almond tree."
A branch from the Watching Tree.
Suddenly, the branch burst into flame and a black pot appeared over the fire - steaming and bubbling.
What do you see?
The water from the boiling pot was falling over one side - violently steaming and sizzling in fire and heat.
What do you see?
The boiling caldron started to tip and the water poured toward the prophet.
What do you see?
"A pot that is boiling and tipping," the Prophet mumbled.
The pot pours from the North.
The prophet saw the pot tip over completely and the boiling destruction cosumed everything in its path. It melted and drowned anything in its path, except for the prophet. The Prophet stood un harmed in the midst of the catastrophe. He was unharmed and completely alone.
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