Hello gangsters,
I wanted to share a short vignette...a little fiction that flowed through me, this afternoon. I have been having these experiences, more and more. Little pieces of fiction that all but write themselves. There is no rhyme or reason to when they show up. So, when they do, I get out of the way...make myself transparent (more than I already have been, lately)...and I let them write themselves. I think of them as pieces from a travelogue, from my travels across time and space.
Here it is, enjoy:
One night, he woke up and said, to his beloved, 'I had the strangest dream....very odd...almost alien...but you were there, and all the people that we know. They were there too. That wasn't the strange part.'
'What was it then?', she asked her beloved, her other self. 'What was so strange, so alien, so odd, in this dream you had?'
He paused. For many moments, he paused, and she thought him to be asleep again, her beloved...her self, as other. She waited, many moments she waited, and then he spoke.
He said, in a small voice, 'We could not fly, or travel by thought, in this strange dream. Everything looked very like this world, the world in which we love one another. It looked...very like, but...'
'Yes?', she asked. 'Yes, very like, but...what?' 'What could be stranger than a world where we can not fly, or travel by thought?' 'What is it, my beloved, that has taken your words?' 'I am listening, my love...please, tell me.'
'Well, you will think it stranger still, my beloved,' he said, in that small voice. 'You will think it alien, indeed.' 'These people, this other, alien, us...we live very short lives...very short. It is a wonder how anyone could really live all that there is to live, in these short lives.'
'In this dream, you appeared, as you do now...beautiful and with the same bright eyes...but you were only forty years old.' 'Can you imagine that? Forty years old?' 'You are more beautiful to me, my beloved, than the day we were joined, but neither of us has seen that age for several hundred years.'
'Strange, indeed. So strange, I laughed out loud...very loud...right in the middle of the dream, I laughed without control, and this is what woke me from that dream...my laughing. I laughed myself awake, and I find myself back with you, my love. Back here, where the world makes sense.' 'What do you make of it all?'
She paused, now. She paused for many moments, and it was his turn to wonder if she was sleeping. Had he lulled her to sleep? Was she, even now, dreaming her own strange dreams? But, then she spoke, and it was a gentle voice, a nurturing, loving voice.
She said, 'I think you had too much wine before bed, my beloved...or just enough.' You have always been one of our best dreamers. Your dreams are stranger, more wild, more...more. Your dreams are more. One of the many things, I love about you.'
'Now, hold me, my beloved, and tell me more of this strange world, where we are us and not us. Tell me more of this strange place, where we can not fly. Tell me all the other strange things, and maybe I will dream them too. Maybe we can meet in this strange place, and wake each other, with laughing.'
'What was it then?', she asked her beloved, her other self. 'What was so strange, so alien, so odd, in this dream you had?'
He paused. For many moments, he paused, and she thought him to be asleep again, her beloved...her self, as other. She waited, many moments she waited, and then he spoke.
He said, in a small voice, 'We could not fly, or travel by thought, in this strange dream. Everything looked very like this world, the world in which we love one another. It looked...very like, but...'
'Yes?', she asked. 'Yes, very like, but...what?' 'What could be stranger than a world where we can not fly, or travel by thought?' 'What is it, my beloved, that has taken your words?' 'I am listening, my love...please, tell me.'
'Well, you will think it stranger still, my beloved,' he said, in that small voice. 'You will think it alien, indeed.' 'These people, this other, alien, us...we live very short lives...very short. It is a wonder how anyone could really live all that there is to live, in these short lives.'
'In this dream, you appeared, as you do now...beautiful and with the same bright eyes...but you were only forty years old.' 'Can you imagine that? Forty years old?' 'You are more beautiful to me, my beloved, than the day we were joined, but neither of us has seen that age for several hundred years.'
'Strange, indeed. So strange, I laughed out loud...very loud...right in the middle of the dream, I laughed without control, and this is what woke me from that dream...my laughing. I laughed myself awake, and I find myself back with you, my love. Back here, where the world makes sense.' 'What do you make of it all?'
She paused, now. She paused for many moments, and it was his turn to wonder if she was sleeping. Had he lulled her to sleep? Was she, even now, dreaming her own strange dreams? But, then she spoke, and it was a gentle voice, a nurturing, loving voice.
She said, 'I think you had too much wine before bed, my beloved...or just enough.' You have always been one of our best dreamers. Your dreams are stranger, more wild, more...more. Your dreams are more. One of the many things, I love about you.'
'Now, hold me, my beloved, and tell me more of this strange world, where we are us and not us. Tell me more of this strange place, where we can not fly. Tell me all the other strange things, and maybe I will dream them too. Maybe we can meet in this strange place, and wake each other, with laughing.'
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We are remembering that we are LOVE In The Human Experience...which means that we are LOVE...period. We are remembering that being human does not connote limitation, and that, as human, we can access the very building blocks of Creation.
To be human...this has meant one thing, for several thousands of years, but we are remembering...we are becoming and we are already become and we are not become, at all. We are the ushering of the new paradigm...the paradigm of "AND"..."This AND That" instead of "This OR That". What a glorious time to be alive.
I have been allowing my channeling gifts to marry with my writing gifts...with no concern for their commercial viability...these little fictions are a travelogue from my travels across Creation...across The ALL. Diving into my Self, I touch IS...just for a moment...and I come away with these little moments. I do this for no other reason than the discovery...the awe and delight in 'knowing' theses moments.
I have always thought of myself as a poet...that is a limitation that I am no longer comfortable with...these little vignettes are for me. If others find some value...I am grateful. (Kristen, you have inspired me. Je vous remercie, ma sœur!)
Here it is:
Someone had built the Sacred Fires, in the Long Ago...long before anyone of them had been born. They had always known the Sacred Fires, and the Lake of Purification. Some of them had even gotten close enough to smell the offerings at The Sacred Fires.
No one was quite sure what the offerings were, but all of the religious teachings told of the honors, bestowed on those that gave themselves to the gods. Those that were blessed into rich and influential families had closest access to the Holy Waters and the Sacred Fires. The only ones, allowed closer, were the Priests and Priestesses...the Servants of The Holy Flame and Tenders to The Sacred Fires...and they were mute.
When an initiate, of the Holy Priesthood, was dedicated to the gods, at age 13, a special paste (made from the ashes, of the sacrifices, at The Sacred Fires) was fed to them, which put them in an altered state. In this altered state, they gave their first, and last, oracular statement...a statement that would dedicate them to their own special work, as Priest or Priestess...then their tongue was ritually cut from their mouth and fed to the flames. In this way, they were made children of the gods.
On occasion, on very, very rare occasions, an initiate's tongue grew back, and they were given the unique distinction of being a speaker of the old ways. This happened only once in an age, normally. Now, there were two. Twins...a sister and brother, who spoke for the gods, and kept the Divine Dialogue alive within the minds and hearts of The People.
It is said that they are, these Twins, the return of the first Priest and Priestess of The Holy Flame...an answer to a promise, made by the gods, to The People, in The Long Ago. It is said that their return marks the time when the gods will, once again, walk among The People. It is also said that to see them, even for a second, is to have all sins, from all lives, washed away...as if you had actually been granted access to the waters of the Lake of Purification.
Again, not a fully formed, or neatly tied up story. But, these are glimpses at realities...fictions...that are true somewhere/somewhen. And we all know that everything is true...somewhere and somewhen, with in The All. Have a beautiful night. Dream and birth new worlds with your dreaming. Blessings!
With LOVE,
Patrick
