The rivers of the earth do not actually meet each other, not even in the oceans, nor do they need to meet in order to be truly life-giving rivers. But they do meet: they meet in the skies–that is, in heaven. The rivers do not meet, not even as water. They meet in the form of clouds, once they have suffered a transformation into vapour, which eventually will pour down again into the valleys of mortals to feed the rivers of the earth. Religions do not coalesce, certainly not as organised religions. They meet once transformed into vapour, once metamorphosized into Spirit, which is then poured down in innumerable tongues.
It offers what I find to be the most beautiful and poetic articulation of what philosophia perennis means.
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