He felt sleepy. In his heart, he wanted to remain awake, but he also wanted to sleep.
I am learning the Language of the World, and everything in the world is beginning to make sense to me…
even the flight of the hawks,” he said to himself. And, in that mood, he was grateful to be in love.
When you are in love, things make even more sense, he thought.
Suddenly, one of the hawks made a flashing dive through the sky, attacking the other.
As it did so, a sudden, fleeting image came to the boy: an army, with its swords at the ready, riding into the oasis.
The vision vanished immediately, but it had shaken him. He had heard people speak of mirages, and had already seen some himself:
they were desires that, because of their intensity, materialized over the sands of the desert.
But he certainly didn’t desire that an army invade the oasis.
He wanted to forget about the vision, and return to his meditation.
He tried again to concentrate on the pink shades of the desert, and its stones.
But there was something there in his heart that wouldn’t allow him to do so.
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