The Forest

There was a prince – good fairy tales always start that way, because each of us is a prince or princess in hiding – we just need to find that glass slipper, or to be kissed awake from our perpetual slumber, or to pull a sword from a stone, or to be discovered because of a birth mark, or – I could go on but the list is endless, and sometimes involves monks trekking across high deserts and wind swept plains for years – suffice it to say our prince had all he could desire: a fine palace, wonderful clothes, a bed so soft that it wrapped him in sleep and gave him wonderful dreams the moment his head touched the pillows – but something deep inside him yearned to have something so wonderful that he would fall down enraptured by its presence.

He had seen the way that the people of his lands fell down and worshipped the golden statues of their gods, but for him they were just another thing made of gold, and he had plenty of those. There was a chapel of the gods stuffed with them somewhere in the palace, but looking at them did not make him want to fall down. They did not fill him with awe and wonder. He wanted to discover something so incredible that it would utterly entrance him. Something he could worship just like his people worshipped – something utterly transporting. He had seen his people and the way they were visibly moved. He has seen their states of religious ecstasy. They possessed something in those moments that no prince could buy, that no craftsman could shape, no king could command – AND HE WANTED IT.

He took leave of his people that spring and set off into the vast forest in search of he knew not what, he simply knew how it would make him feel when he found it. He knew it would be the most wondrous thing in the world. Something truly worth worshipping. In time he came to a clearing, and saw a wonderful bird in the most beautiful plumage. It danced and sang and entranced him completely.

“This is it. I have found it” he thought. “That is the most wondrous thing in the world that I can truly worship.”

He captured the bird and brought it back to his palace. He had it placed in a golden cage. Each day he came and sat enraptured by it, and each day he felt wonderfully moved by the sight and sound of it. This was the bird that took him to paradise.

Then one day he came and the bird's plumage had fallen off, and there in the golden cage it stood, a dull brown ordinary bird.

“Let the darn thing go” he commanded. “Turn it out of my palace, I do not want to see it ever again. I want the most wonderful thing in the world, and that – that drab, dull, scraggy bird is not even fit to grace my table.”

Once more he set off into the forest to find the most wondrous thing in the world. It was now summer and the days were hot and long. In time he came to a clearing and fluttering across it was a wonderful butterfly. It colours were so iridescent that that he was enraptured by it.

“Ah, now, this it is it” he thought. “That is the most wondrous thing in the world that I can truly worship.”

He captured the butterfly and brought it back to his palace, but when he opened the box it was fluttering its last – it was still beautiful, but no longer did it capture his heart. He did not feel awe and wonder in its presence.

The prince had it pinned to a board and the board mounted in a frame so that he could remember the enchantment he had felt when he had first seen it – but it just made him feel sad looking at its still form, so he set off into the forest once more.

By now it was autumn. In time he came to a clearing. In its middle stood the most magnificent stag with a wonderful head of antlers. The prince was enraptured. He felt awe in its presence.

“This is truly the most wondrous thing in the world that I can worship” he thought.

He captured the stag and took it back to his palace. There he kept it in a special enclosure. He came each day a sat looking at it in awe. This was truly the most wondrous thing in the world. At last he had found something that was truly worth worshipping.

Then one day he came to see his most wonderful stag, but its antlers were skew, and then one fell off. The poor creature's coat had become dull and matted, and blood trickled down its head from where the antler had snapped, leaving a sore, seeping stump.

“This pathetic looking animal is not worth worshipping” he cried. “Take it away. Drive it out of my lands. I never want to see it again.”

So once more he set off into the forest even though it was now winter. In time he came to a clearing that glistened and glittered with frost. Once more he was completely enraptured.

Noting a cave that overlooked the clearing he set up camp there and remained, enwrapped as the seasons passed and each day the forest produced a new wonders. Time past and he even forgot he was a prince for now he understood that it was the forest itself that produced all the wonders – and he didn't wish to miss a day of it.

Now another prince sits on his throne, but he too is becoming dissatisfied by all that lifeless gold.