The Legend of the
Ancient of Days

for Lanello

A long time ago
On a star far away
A great council assembled
In solemn array.

The question weighed heavy
On everyone’s mind—
T’was the fate of the Earth,
What to do with mankind.

The planet was burdened
With discord and strife
Human beings had forgotten
The purpose of life.

They had even begun
To walk down on all fours
In their eyes and their souls
God’s great light shone no more.

“Earth must be dissolved,”
The cosmic council decreed
“Her energy returned
To the great primal sea.”

I, Sanat Kumara
Arose from my chair
And invoked Opportunity
From those who were there:

“Let us give them a chance
And perhaps over time
These ones will remember
They once were divine.

“I will show them the way
I will be the front line
And bring mercy to Terra
If you would change your mind.”

“My Son,” said an elder,
“You know the law well—
You will be tied to Terra
Until your ranks swell.

“To win back her people
The flame in your heart
Must inspire them to love
And become Freedom’s Star.

“These are new beginnings
For children of man
By your grace we do grant them
A fresh divine plan.”

I gratefully knelt
Before the Great White Throne
Where the Nameless One blessed me
As I left for home.

“My son, they will call you
The Ancient of Days
To the Great Spirit in you
Give glory and praise.

“You are known throughout cosmos
For your eternal youth
May your Word now spring forth
Like a fountain of truth.

“I anoint you with Spirit
The I AM THAT I AM,
The ark of the covenant
And the embodied Lamb.”

On my shoulders descended
A mantle of light
Power, glory and honor
Love, wisdom and might.

I bid the council adieu
And returned to my star
Where fair Venus awaited
With Holy Kumaras.

Winged messengers had announced
The cosmic council’s decision:
That Earth was now granted
A new dispensation.

Our daughter Meta greeted
Me home with a kiss.
“Father, we’re thankful,” she said
“For your courage and faith.”

Though we rejoiced that night
In a grand ball reception,
Our hearts were weighed down
By a measure of sadness.

The pain of separation
Could not be eclipsed
As we thought of the loved ones
We most surely would miss.

Many eons would pass
Before we’d meet again
Our mission accomplished
Our victory at hand.

Twilight dropped upon us
A blanket of peace,
Our twin star gently twinkled
With ethereal surcease.

Then I looked to the mountains
And to my surprise,
Mine eye caught a spiral
Of light hovering nigh.

T’was the souls of my children—
Hundred forty four thousand
Approaching our palace
With joyful compassion

The anthem of brotherhood
That echoed below
Still rings clear through these valleys:
Solstice Ode to Joy.

They reached for our balcony,
Stopped, lifted their eyes,
Then stepped forth to address me
’Neath violet skies.

I saw in their leader
My beloved son
Whose loyal steadfastness
Was rivaled by none.

“Our Father,” he said,
“We have heard of your plight.
We will not let you down,
We will fight the good fight.

“We will prepare the way
We will help tend the flame
We will spread love and light
We will speak in your name.

“We will be at your side
When you enter the fray;
We will go first to Earth,
To keep evil at bay.”

Their love was so touching
Their service so rare
We were moved beyond words
By their life-giving prayer.

These hundred forty four
Thousand, my lady and I
Wept together for joy;
Angel legions stood by.

Then I called from among them
An hundred forty four
To become our forerunners
In this epic untold.

The veil was now drawn
The heaven world left behind
Clothed in bodies of flesh
They were born of mankind.

Neither castle nor palace
Would be their Earth home
Rather shacks, caves and huts
Humble hearths carved of stone.

They waxed strong and matured
In the ways of their kin
Yet their souls would oft stir,
With an urge to transcend.

T’was a deep inner memory
That could not be erased
A magnificent city
That would now be their fate.

Came a day they set forth—
Friends and family behind,
To sail for blue horizons
And seek holy ground.

Hearts brimming with passion,
Pressing on day and night,
Only intuition to guide them
Toward the appointed site.

From four corners of Earth
These great pilgrims arrived
Mighty warriors of spirit
Crossing lands, seas and skies.

The Gobi Sea was the place
Destiny had assigned
For these men to accomplish
Their purpose sublime.

The pilgrims had reached
Their final destination
Then one among them came forward
To speak of a vision:

“A resplendent white city
Is ours to erect
Reminiscent of Venus ’n
Divine architects.

“On a lush, verdant island
Seven temples our feat
Focusing sacred fire
In alabaster retreats.

“A beautiful bridge
Will be our first task
Over sapphire blue waters
Where others can pass.

“Fashioned with pure white marble
Engrained with finest gold,
Lined with sweet cherubs carved
Mem’ries of days of old.”

By the sweat of their brow
Initiating the task
They hauled rocks, stones and metal;
Nine hundred years passed.

Down from neighboring hills
Savage hordes would attack
To destroy what was built
Cosmic goal now set back.

Determined and constant
The pilgrims kept their pace
Lifting up from the rubble
Planting trees in its place.

At the top of the island
The main temple was raised
Where Sanat Kumara’s
Blessed feet one day would graze.

Twelve marble steps
Leading up to the throne
That was framed with perfection
By a high gilded dome.

A massive gold door
Shimmering rays in the sun
Like a gigantic mirror
To welcome each one.

Tall trees lined the path
Leading up to the gate
Reflecting pools, rainbow fountains
Vibrant floral parquets.

A sacred space was created
Where brotherhood shone
The builders called it Shamballa
To remind them of home.

The task was completed
The altars were groomed
With delicate flowers
Picked from most fragrant blooms.

Sanat Kumara would come now
For time had run short.
To depart unto Earth
With his devoted court.

He bid his lady farewell
In a poignant embrace
And ascended o’er Hesperus
Into stellar space.

The souls that convened
Offered sweet hymns of praise
And he blessed them sincerely
With affectionate gaze.

Then to their amazement
Midst a brilliant light trail
He vanished away
Like a comet’s vast tail.

In Shamballa the builders
Waited with bated breath
For their lord to appear
So to give Earth a rest.

The birds hushed their singing
The seas ceased their sway
And all nature grew silent
On this momentous day.

Slow and majestic
His feet touched the ground
Then all life felt his presence
Though there was not a sound.

Fresh peace, hope and comfort
Each troubled soul stilled
As his Great Spirit swept
Over woods, lakes and hills.

Withered flowers that drooped
With new strength raised their heads,
And the laughter of children
Was heard once again.

The builders were happy
They wearied no more
And knelt in Thanksgiving
To honor their Lord.

Then upon the altar
The Ancient of Days
With a powerful fiat
Invoked a dazzling flame.

Threefold and immortal,
Pink, Yellow and Blue
Fount of love, wisdom, power
Precious life renewed.

From each flickering plume
Flashed forth filigree threads
To connect each one’s heart
In a mystical web.

The crisis was over
The planet sustained,
And the Earth was redeemed
For a new golden age.

Now the end of this story
Is yours to create
As you search in your soul
For the keys it contains.

Close your eyes, try to see
Your mighty threefold flame
Anchored deep in your heart
’Tis your spiritual claim.

Pulsating, blazing
It waxes and spins
Helping you find your mission
So you too can ascend.

Written by Therese Rose Emmanuel

Inspired by teachings from The Summit Lighthouse on the story of Sanat Kumara