The Sleeping Man did not sleep as his moniker would suggest. Many years ago under the Green Mountain Temple where the monks practiced sword dances and lit heady incense, a little girl in apprentice robes ran up to the head of the monks and pulled his robe, “Big Brother, there’s a sleeping man! Come!” A chamber had been revealed underneath the temple itself, in the oldest part of the sanctuary. The monks found him lying in the chamber silent and still. His violet eyes fixated on the cei. . .

The Sleeping Man did not sleep as his moniker would suggest. Many years ago under the Green Mountain Temple where the monks practiced sword dances and lit heady incense, a little girl in apprentice robes ran up to the head of the monks and pulled his robe, “Big Brother, there’s a sleeping man! Come!” A chamber had been revealed underneath the temple itself, in the oldest part of the sanctuary. The monks found him lying in the chamber silent and still. His violet eyes fixated on the cei. . .