The Return Of All That Is Good

by John Ernest Monse


Book Details

The Return Of All That Is Good follows our hero, Banta Algthrop, from another universe where his people matured enough to be pulled into the service of the Mighty Spirit. They are transported to planet Earth becoming our constant companions and protectors without us ever knowing. We read about Banta’s and his companion’s constant watchfulness from an ancient time when people lived around campfires, on to a place where families settled a new country and finishing his service when the King of All steps upon this planet to continue His work into the next age. Banta Algthrop’s people are an energetic, strong force within the creation who have spiritually grown enough so they can now stand as helpers of the Most High. These beings have only just become known to us recently as Water Bears, or Tardigrades, that seem almost indestructible as they live their lives among us for an unknown purpose.


Book Excerpt

So, she began to climb the thick, lofty trunk. The large bright moon lit up the world almost as though the sun shone overhead, but not quite. She missed several good handholds and grabbed onto some small nubs where nothing could be held onto, which caused her to earn hurtful scratches and almost fall from the tree onto the ground where her doom would be swift. She steadily climbed higher until she reached the highest part of the woody stem, where she crouched low, peering over the edge of the natural cradle created by great limbs projecting from the base of the trunk. The hushed footsteps of the small girl’s adversary approached close to her tree and then gradually slithered from beneath the thick underbrush of the dark forest. The child’s eyes slowly widened to their extreme as she looked down at the largest man-eater she had ever seen. The tiniest breath of angst barely issued from her mouth as she struggled to keep her wits about her. The hungry beast heard the almost silent exclamation of fear and jerked its head upward in her direction. A thick rumble of purring began exhaling from each breath, as its prey seemed prepared for her upon a platter made by the perennial stump. The lioness quickened her pace, circling the broad tree until her final victory lap, when she stopped and bent back onto her haunches, her legs pumping up and down, positioning themselves for the greatest thrust to spring upon her meal and tear it from its place of hiding. In that instant before the Queen of the Forest Underbrush leaped for her tasty morsel, a small whirlwind began swirling on the ground between her and the seedling of old, as though originating from within one of those glistening drops of dew resting upon the ground. The mighty cat paused from her hunt, slanted her head to one side, and stared bewildered at the intriguing phenomenon growing steadily taller at her feet. She sat back and pawed at the rustling of dirt and leaves, as though a mouse might be the source of her annoyance, but nothing stopped the wind that came from nowhere. The spinning dervish held her attention as it grew tall and wide. She wanted to run, but her legs would not move, as though being held by a mighty arm. Her heart pounded so hard that her chest greatly pulsated as the whirlwind rolled over her, enclosing the tree, the cat, and the girl in a broad cyclonic circle that stretched over the top of the tree. The roaring wind rocked the air as though a steady stream of thunder filled the atmosphere, engulfing the threesome—the faithful tree, the powerful feline, and the small girl lost and alone. The three began to sense an intense, tingling sensation crawling along their skin, fur, and bark. They felt changed. Everything changed. The whole of the fabric of creation that existed within the spinning walls of the wind that had risen from the dewdrop began a transformation into something that did not belong in this time or space. The old tree that had lived and struggled thousands of years now appeared to allay all its concern. Its cracked and torn bark grew softer and began to heal. Its limbs relaxed and filled with a new vitality that surged life-giving sap into its green leaves and burst new sprouts from every minuscule crevice. Lush, soft, green grass spurted forth from the ground and gently rolled across Mother Earth caressing the ancient seedling that had stood alone for so long. The living carpet thrusting its way from the earth also unfolded under the old sprout’s friend, who sat upon her roots with hair and tail and the teeth for killing. The Great Queen of the Forest Underbrush sat with her large face intently gazing at the expanding funnel. Her feline eyes looked upward, slowly moving her head and body, attempting to comprehend the moving force engulfing her, surrounding her, holding her still. The roaring, spinning air should have caused her great fear and intense anxiety, but she simply sat, as though waiting, and purred, not as before a meal made of another life, but for the joy that filled her completely. Inexplicable goodness restored her body and made her feel full and ready to run forever. “What was this strange thing?”, she wondered. Little Annabelle stood tall upon her scraped knees. She no longer felt the need to hide beneath the rim of the tree hollow. As the cute little whirlybird began its conquering sweep, which overcame the three companions and their small piece of earth, she had sucked in a gallon of air and held it in her puffed-up lungs as her face took on a wide-eyed and fearful stance. Suddenly, the sweeping air ended its growth and stood as an impenetrable wall between the earthly companions and a world of madness. Annabelle stood on her knees and bent over the edge of her hiding place. She spoke down to the sitting, watchful cat upon the ground in a loud whisper, “Hey, Felidae, what do you make of this? What do you think is going on?” The small girl suddenly straightened herself and stopped talking. Was she talking to the beast? What good is that going to do? What was that strange feeling in her gut? Had she just given up her last hope of survival? “Well, Annabelle,” Felidae replied in a gruff, high-pitched voice as she monitored the tornadic wall, “I’m thinking we have been captured within the grasp of a Steward of the Spirit, but I’m not seeing him yet.” The great beast and the little girl stared at each other, not understanding how this could be happening, but for each of them the feeling of openness toward one another filled them with joy. A purposeful, deep, baritone voice shook the earth around the two new friends. From directly below the tree loft, the bark parted like lips and a voice like rolling thunder responded to Felidae, “I believe you are correct, Felidae. A long time ago, I experienced a similar scene as I am now seeing. At that time, a small boy was running from a frightful beast, far more frightful than you were, Felidae, with teeth lining its mouth almost a foot long and claws that could slash a mammoth in seconds. The boy came to me, but I was too young then to offer much protection. It appeared that the youngster would soon succumb to the unquenchable appetite of the raving murderer when from nowhere a moist aura covered our world as though a large drop of water encased us in a fluid barrier. Then a creature appeared like nothing I have ever seen before. He walked on eight legs that were thick like a mammoth, but with very little hair. Moreover, his body was round and strong like a bear, but he mostly walked on his hindmost legs. When he stood, he was very tall and very strong. His speech filled one with the feeling of authority you dared not defy.” Annabelle heard the words, but did not see another creature anywhere. So, she whispered, “Glaubenwarden, are you this great tree we hear?” She thought to herself, “Strange that I know their names. And why am I talking to the tree?” “Yes, Annabelle, I am one of those who wait patiently for the Spirit to perform His work. I do not change anything about myself. I do not change my surroundings. I do not go elsewhere to seek for answers. I wait for the Spirit, and in His good time, He brings all good things to me according to His will.” Annabelle thought, “Now I know why so many of my people see the trees as great spirits. Their patience and wisdom goes far beyond the lives of many generations.” She then asked, “How is it we’re all able to talk to one another? This is so strange.” The three new friends remained silent for several moments as they pondered these events and tried to find answers within themselves. Glaubenwarden ended the silence. “It may be we cannot explain this, but we know we are here. We know that the Spirit hovering over us has changed us so we feel as though we are best friends. And yet, for me it does not feel so much like I have changed,” the great tree hesitated as though trying to look within his soul for the answer, “but it feels as though I have always been this way and some kind of shroud has prevented me from entering this place of freedom. The Spirit has lifted the shroud from me so that I can be what I was meant to be.” “Your friend, the tree, is correct. You have not been changed at all, but simply had your shackles removed from your souls so you can once again gain access to your potential.” Annabelle, Felidae, and Glaubenwarden remained silent. Each wondered where that new voice had come from. They asked each other simultaneously, “Who said that?” “Why, I did,” said a bearlike creature who had suddenly appeared in their midst and was growing larger as they watched. “My name is Banta. I am here to rescue the three of you from this madness because you are each very important to the Spirit Who Moves All Things.”


About the Author

John Ernest Monse

I grew up in Davenport Center, NY. I had numerous poems entered in my high school’s Cóllage publication and one poem published in college. Marriage and three children followed. Completing this book after years of pecking away whenever I could find the time, is one of my most rewarding accomplishments.