written by Gian Luigi Ruggeri 
for YourwwwriterS.com, (c) 2000, 2001 of the author - All rights reserved.

The thousands and thousands of fragments of what was the splendid mandala of life, joy and abundancy are now scattered all around the world, and it can happen to be in front of one of them sometimes, without even knowing it.
And the same happened for the persons that once were the members of a prosperous community, that quickly disappeared, and they also finished in any part of the world.

Some of the ones that till the end had mantained a strong tie with the magnificent disc and all the values it kept and showed never accepted that loss.
They first tried to rebuild that creation with no equals, without obtaining results obviously.
They thought that was a divine punishment caused by the leaving of the great teachings, and that such a great guilt had to be paid.
Only when they would have merited it again the great gift would have come back to them.

But an untoldable number of years of searches and quests, interior and exterior, still has not brought to a result of a precious gift as the lost one.

A miracle, smaller and absolutely not comparable to the one of the past has shown itself in these days of us.

Amongst the lost  desolations of neverending ices of the highest mountains, where some of the descendants of the ones that more where tied to the gift of the sky  found their new home, where continuing their quests following an interior path.

This new miracle is in a place almost unreachable, and where it is impossible to stay for a long time.
And this in opposition to the mandala of life, joy and abundancy, that was reachable to anybody.

And it has not the warm of all the possible colours as it had the mandala of life, joy and abundancy. It is cold, as is snow at its hardest condition.

It is a disc of an untoldable beauty, and it show exactly what was shown by the mandala of life, joy and abundancy. In ice.
And obviously it cannot have its colours and warm. And cannot recreate the same miracles at the same highness

This is the tale of the mandala of ice, gift of a summer night.
Never requested, and that never will be forgotten.