A Fleeting Glimpse

A fleeting glimpse into the very fabric of reality...

I cannot be awake, for nothing looks to me as it did before, or else I am awake for the first time, and all before had been a mean sleep.
- Walt Whitman

I
For the first time in what seemed an eternity, the vibrations of the soft fertile earth conjured an electric matrimony with the soles of bare feet. Toes curled and clutched at the soil in stunned disbelief, nerves straining to comprehend the astonishment of what might've been a rare species of ecstasy. Long ungainly legs, wobbling like those of a toddler, propelled across the misty tendrils with no particular destination in mind, nearly sprinting into the wild blue yonder with nothing more for guidance than some pure indefinite instinct. Each progressive step forward engraved its signature in the humid mire, each stride producing another section of muddy contrail in its wake as the limbs sauntered along with an unusual rhythm of serenity. Lush rhizomes of grass and clover sprouted all across the region in thick green patches, blades crumpled together like emeralds damp with fresh morning dew. The annelid benefactors of such healthy turf occasionally erupted from the prosperous sod in wriggling confusion, only for the segmented mucous earthworms to burrow back within the refuge of their subterranean tunnels just as quickly as they had appeared.
Just because the eyes could not see in the proper sense of the word, it doesn’t mean that it could all be passed off as nonexistent. Quite the opposite.
As it were, there was some difficulty in seeing the surrounding landscape with just mere human vision. Everywhere the eyes looked, the opaque veils of fog and mist drifted across the mysterious environment like an audience of phantasms, taunting the mind with hints of churning illusion seeping forth from the vast abyss of oblivion. There was an odd tinge buzzing in the air as the sprint decelerated into a cautious sort of jog along the derelict path, something which assumed an eerie and rather surreal ambiance with each passing step. It was almost like rambling through the desolate, haunted fields of Erebus…and yet, in some nameless and unfathomable manner of perspective, it also felt like a leisurely stroll through the asphodel meadows of fabled Elysium.
As to whether or not the theory of metaphysics would still be considered applicable to the feigned values of humanity's dim future remains to be seen. Regardless, there are still those unseen denizens of the otherworld, still those who actively seek us as their fleshy vessels for enhanced communications, as their living vaults for storing extraordinary information. They are said to have become visible to us in every conceivable form, often visiting us in our times of traverse struggle, speaking to us in cryptic sensations so unimaginably alien that even the wisest of medicine men would have trouble deciphering the complete significance of their revered messages. It is still sometimes thought that the spectral peoples of the Ghost Country continue to live among us in an increasingly-neglected symbiosis.
The frigid winds of Boreas blew across the ethereal realm with the strength and indifference of a howling wildfire. Condensed walls of rolling fog splashed against the thin boundaries of existence like the seismic waves of a tsunami, the potent blankets of heavy vapor swirling with the silvery enigmatic depths of infinity. The body shivered from the freezing depths of the advancing late-winter gales, the veins pumping blood like a sporadic oil leak, ensnared in some futile attempt to stay warm from within the bleak eye of the psychological storm. The brain was caught in the midst of a possible upheaval as countless bewildering thoughts pounded with haphazard abandon against the stirring cranium, ricocheting off the inner walls of the skull like a pestle against the contents of a mortar.
With the mind charging anew from the sudden dosage of unrelenting willpower, the blurry perception of the optical nerves started to collect themselves little by precious little, recovering at a deliberate snail's pace so as to better adapt to the vibrant textures of the illuminated haze. For an instant it appeared to work out just fine…that is, up until the moment when the unsuspecting retinas were blinded by the first beam in the parting firmament.
There was no reliable way of knowing just how long it was before the body’s circadian rhythms had finally returned to a remotely acceptable state of normality. The burning eyes refused to do more than squint through heavy lids, rods and cones pulsing in convulsive spasms against the oncoming rush of the hideous strain. An extreme pressure built within the sockets like a taunt elastic spring, making everything appear with the obscure mass of a painful mirage. Perhaps there was a certain part of the brain too accustomed to living within the claustrophobic square walls, or perhaps the mind had bathed once too often in the sterilized glow of fluorescent lighting. Something along those lines, anyway.
The tension, close to unbearable at first, soon settled into some peculiar state of numbing detachment, allowing the dilated pupils to relax as they attempted to adjust to the dazzling glare of the foreign brightness. From the direction assumed to be east, brilliant rivulets of light cascaded over the brim of the gloomy overcast like the fleet waters of Victoria Falls, sculpting the shapes of the surrounding purgatory world with eroding shadows. The capacious horizon began to glimmer in a rosy glow as lovely Aurora opened the celestial doors to the heavens, generating her own uplifting essence as she introduced a familiar star upon the mythical landscape. The hidden crevices of the brain abruptly reeled off primeval titles in rapid succession, each one galvanized syllable by syllable in the burning radiance of hydrogen and helium: Phoebus Apollo, Amen-Ra, Shamash, Amaterasu Omikami, Dazhbog, Helios, Horus, Krishna, Mithra, Buddha, Bacchus, Jesus Christ…the omnipotent deity went by many names.
The eyes began to water in some forgotten euphoria as the immense bluffs of the atmosphere were caught ablaze by the flickering golden inferno. The crystalline rays of glorious Sol soared across the encompassing arch of the mackerel sky, showering all of waking creation with life-sustaining vitality. The fiery corona carved through the engulfing drapes of grey like a lone lantern in the dark, it’s bright halos emanating a pleasant heat from this most royal of crowns. The vigorous daylight was casting its divine clarity upon the faraway domain, chasing off the stubborn clouds and revealing a beautiful world in the striking vivid detail long since lost to living memory.
Vast evergreen curtains unfurled across the four sacred directions as far as the eye could see, thousands of impermeable conifers reaching for the heavens with grasping fingers gloved in needles and leaves. The towering giants dominated the territory with a virtuous rule, defining the remarkable ecosystem which spilled out of this spellbound domain of limbo. Nomadic hollows of stratus clouds wove intricate patterns between the ancient trunks and the dense underbrush, drifting in close proximity to the living ground as if longing to caress the terra firma beneath. The trickling bed of a commodius tributary, partially hidden by the prominent stands of perennial foliage, surged along its ostensible northwestern course towards the distant estuaries, perhaps leading all the way to the primal roaring whitecaps of the mighty Pacific…that is, if the memories didn’t lie. The linguistic melodies of animal life began to fracture the monopolizing silence as colorful songbirds warbled in their avian languages from above the treetops, as unseen rodents scurried through the packed shrubbery, as rustic crickets chirped in jubilant chorus from within the dense pockets of lush humus. The sheer enthrallment brought about by the breathtaking reality of the untamed wildlife nearly overwhelmed the captivated mind, the atypical trance intensifying from the pure complexity of the immeasurable virgin forests.
Byzantine layers of arcane consciousness hurtled across the cavernous synapses with breakneck speed and authority, screeching like an alarm clock waking the dormant dendrites of neurons muddled by their prolonged and timeworn slumber. The inkling sense of individual identity washed over the absorbed psyche like the surge of a hurricane, feeling something so inconceivable and taboo in this modern age that it didn’t compute to the devolved intelligence of the average worker bee…and yet it was something so feasible, so real, that we are purposely taught to be built into so-called sensible people who’d choose to blind themselves with rose-tinted glasses rather than stand up to the music and face the truth.
For ths first time in what seemed an eternity, the thoughts and feeds of the human spirit were being perceived by the cosmic powers of Mother Nature and the Great Mystery Above.
It was here. It was really here.
The magnificent yellow-white sun flew in defiant splendor towards the vintage point of noon, far above the roof of the exosphere, yet the blazing globe was already fading back within the spacious awning of the murky clouds. Already the gathering tempests set into motion to win back the coveted heavens, becoming apparent that the tyrannical overcast planned to dominate the skies once again with an iron fist. The whistling squalls which followed this sudden change in weather like prowling hounds riddled the naked skin with volley after volley of icy goosebumps. Each freezing breath invoked the forms of gaseous sprites to manifest into brief existence before dissipating back into the chilly air.
Streams of incipient concentration spouted forth from the raw vital power of the natural world, taking on the adverse effects of dimethyltryptamine as it rebuilt the foundations of the soul's joie de vivre, rejuvenating the latent adrenal glands with fresh doses of epinephrine. Each precarious stride forward flirted with the perils of the unknown, oblivious to the dangerous predicaments lying beyond the false solace of conformity. The arms swung like rusty pendulums keeping balance determined to keep balance while the legs continued to run with a firm mindless intent into the wild greenery, plowing straight through thorny brambles of blackberry runners and stinging nettles in search of new adventure. The psyche flowed forth across the rugged terrain upon rising frequencies of ethereal revelation, delving deeper into the very fabric of otherworldly existence. All the while the gathering spirits had come out of hiding to observe this idiot savant running through the woods with the grace of a drunken bull, watching with renewed interest as if perceiving the sudden arrival of a long-lost relative suddenly emerging from the primordial ether.
There was strange power at work here. There was no doubt about that.
Time, if there ever was such a thing, ebbed away like drops of quicksilver. The ideology of pain became imperceptible as the throbbing limbs battered and thrashed against the compressive leaden forces of gravity. Bones which had felt so stiff and useless before now flexed into bursts of crackling laughter, quivering like the fissures of a San Andreas earthquake. Sweat beaded along silent gullies from the curve of the forehead downward, carving miniature replicas of forlorn Venice waterways throughout the entire exposed surface of cold pale skin. The wide-awake eyes faltered from a mild ophthalmic nausea, fixated like a big-rig trucker with white-line syndrome upon the next step, the next leap, the next bound forward into the captivating heart of the Jurassic forest. The highways and byways of neurons grew drunk off the chemical mixture of adrenaline and endorphins, the mind intoxicated with this sweetest of wines, regaining control of the abandoned dusty attic and, at long last, allowing the banished ancestral intuitions of generations past to finally return and wash away the old cobwebs which had restricted the inner being in the forgotten lofts.
After immeasurable hours traveling this long strange trip across the fantastical margins of the untamed dimension, the otherworldly trek ended with abrupt suddenness as one careless misstep caught the slipshod foot within the tentacle grip of a protruding tree root. There was only the small, morbid crunch of the trapped ankle before the oddly-exhilarating sensation of flight expelled all rational thought and destined the fool to crash headfirst into the semisolid earth.
What happened next might have been an example of luck, of chance, a miracle, or just plain old-fashioned coincidence…or maybe all of the above. What by all right should've been a severe collision ending anywhere from all-encompassing pain to becoming a comatose vegetable (or, God forbid, dead), instead landed upon the surprisingly plush carpet composed of horsetail, sword ferns, and fresh sorrel mere inches from the massive bole of an outcast redwood tree. Exhaustion began to take its toll on the physical aspect of the figure sprawled across the soft cushioning vegetation which surrounded the giant trunk like a hoplite shield, overriding even the screaming reality of the ankle in preparation to be conquered by the need to sleep. Shall the blue pill or the red pill take effect? Forgot which one did what…
There must have been other powers at work that kept the paranormal fatigue at bay, guiding the tilted head slightly upward and changing the world by proxy. At that very instant, the mind had frozen in silent and reverent awe, every urge to sleep now banished completely from conscious thought. It’s funny how the most insignificant details will often end up making the largest differences in the determination in one’s fate. History is full of these interesting little details.
The archaic colossus ascended far into churning infinity, perhaps standing at the proud height of a hundred meters or more, and even through this obscure terrestrial angle it could’ve easily dwarfed the tallest of the mighty Titans from the olden eldritch days. From the impressive crow's nest lost far above the ancient being overlooked the pebble-strewn shore of the neighboring stream with a persona of sacrosanct synergy, large gnarled roots protruding and crisscrossing the vicinity of the picturesque sanctuary. The uppermost branches, or rather those which could be seen, swayed calm and casual against the wailing airstreams as they danced with playful laughter through the pungent needles and whispered secret hymns with germinating cones. The hard fibrous bark peeled away in blocky red strips all across the redwood's massive circumference, where shaggy growths of moss and lichen sprouted helter-skelter in thick fungoid mats. The therapeutic tonic scent of the ageless Goliath and the symbiotic lifeforms thereon drifted like a sweet zephyr into the olfactory passage of memory, racing across the deepest recesses of the mind and sobering the consciousness with a smelling salt of lost Zen-like wisdom.
The cerebrum throbbed in eager rhythm as it absorbed the essence which emanated so wild and free from the gargantuan majesty of the lone sequoia, indulging in the rich archaic tales brought about by the tree's refreshing aroma. The collective memory of the cathedral forest seeped forth from the deity influences of the nature divinities, recounting with enthusiastic luster of the lost sagas dating back to humanity's extinguished innocence. A grand majority of the stories had originated back in the bygone eras of the classical Golden Age and before, back in those immemorial days before the questionable spirit of Prometheus had taught the bipedal apes of another continent to master the elemental art of fire.
Another volley of that unfamiliar sense of inner exaltation washed over the mystified physique with wave after possessive wave of dawning realization, making the mind dizzy with the building mental tornado of awakening possibilities. The head grew heavy again and slumped against the substantial trunk of the primordial totem, one ear pressed against the outermost layer of reddish bark, listening with greatest intent as those primal incantations mesmerized the soul with an almost novel sort of disoriented awareness. The eyes closed as if in sleep, and the consciousness submerged into Wonderland once again.
The evergreen narrations were accompanied by the calm trickle of fresh water coursing along the sharp oxbow of the meandering stream, intermixing with the lyrical calls of birds and beasts and insects until they all blended together into an elaborate pagan chant. As if the sight from bleary eyes had given way to something more akin to echolocation, the mind partook in an external panoramic view of the astounding hawkeyed locale, watching and listening with an almost nonchalant respect as the last glittering rays of sunlight dimmed in the engulfing shrouds of congregating cloud banks. The curious mind, avoiding the fate that killed the metaphorical cat, observed the sturdy forms of rough-skinned Douglas fir and bishop pine some distance adjacent to this chief of the coastal rainforest, their stiff needles diverging from spiraling branches as if to grasp with fervent eagerness for the vistas of the dark brewing sky above. A crystalline spider's web ran along the lowest bough of the closest neighboring tree, the tenant orb weaver busy mummifying a careless horsefly with strands of fresh adhesive silk, fulfilling biological necessity and tending to the ecological purposes of its own microhabitat with hallowed care. Overhead, far beyond the reach of the sizable conifers, a small flock of turkey vultures played in joyous harmony upon the increasing bouts of screaming gusts, oblivious to the watching figure below as they continued to gain an exhilarating altitude high above the rising thermals. The first of the boisterous thunderheads roared and boomed in the heavens as if Zeus himself manifested into existence with each bright streak of lightning and each rolling drumbeat of thunder, and it wasn't long before the first barrage of cold precipitation poured across the luxuriant foliage with wild abandon. The icy torrents of rain summoned thick sprays of mist to race against each other in an attempt to conceal the endless acres of this coastal Shangri-La.
All the while, the mind, the body and the soul all began to laugh in unabashed unison before the full presence of the saturating flurries, howling together like an ecstatic pack of timber wolves as the first hulking nimbus shot forth with locomotive speed from the encompassing atmosphere laden with the heavy cargo of endless rain. In the midst of the pouring showers, an odd and persistent series of absurd new concepts started to run rampant throughout the rejuvenated hippocampus, almost as if each silvery drop of water were powering the thirsty crevices of the brain's disconnected thinking process once characterized by such obsolete traits as memory, self-defense, and authentic emotion. These lost ideals and beliefs were completely different from what we as a whole have always been taught to address as “the norm” and/or the “status quo”. It was different from the wretched familiarity of desolate urbanization and the unspeakable crimes conceived therein, different from the voracious gluttony of mindless consumption and the violent rape of worlds from which we obtain it, different from the dastardly turmoil of emotional shortcomings and all the countless evils which always seem to follow. It was different from the acrid taint which we have simultaneously called and worshiped by names and titles such as Society, Government, Law, Money, Religion, and most especially that sickening egotistic monster which we all worship by the name of Humanity.
To the addled mind, these living, breathing notions glowed like sparkling champagne gleams of tranquility, invoking powerful illusions which could only be deciphered in the most inexplicable and impossible of means. This indescribable state of being wild, of being happy and free…it was purely antipodal in comparison to our so-called “rational thought”. This was something that didn’t quite have a name, something with the purity of a Vestal Virgin, something with the power of a maternal nebula, something which tugged the being towards the earth as if the very essence of Gaia herself were calling forth to the wandering souls of her lost children.
This was the answer…but to what? What was the question? Was it 42, or was it more like in Jeopardy!?
Out of the eternal blue, as if answering the baffling jumble of raw emotion and sprouting ideas now coursing through the complex network of awakening neurons, a haunting melody echoed from deep within the cavernous stretch of vivid greenery, singing strange verses with the most beautiful angelic voice any living creature, man or beast, would ever hear. The druidic song had the seductive lure of a benevolent siren, stirring some unknown and ancient energy from deep within the grand mythical expanse of the silvicolous nirvana. The flora and fauna of the forest were becoming inebriated by the vibrations of her enchanting magic, dancing with drunken satyr frenzy in the substantial downpour, possessed as if by the magic often associated with the nature deity Pan. The reflective sheen of the rain appeared to enhance the bright photosynthetic groves of exalted conifers at the very sound of her swaying tones, giving the landscape the impression of a sacred shrine dating from some lost era of prehistory. With each resonating note, the heart pulsated against the heaving rib cage in rapid oxidized stanzas, beating along with the gathering ensemble in an attempt to match the rich frequency of her heavenly ballad.
She was, in a nutshell, a beautiful vocalist. Right away one could tell that she was not of this world, or any other for that matter…but perhaps…perhaps she was from somewhere better…from somewhere just beyond the reach of mortal man. The head felt rather lofty upon the redwood's reassuring bole, spinning in unstable rainbow orbits as if stimulated by a strong blotter of LSD, resting against the spongy bark and listening carefully to the otherworldly intent of her mysterious chants. Intense shimmering thoughts accelerated across the mind with the frantic vitality of kudzu vines, renewed surges of adrenaline flowing throughout the intricate pathways of intersecting neurons and veins. Each hammering pulse flourished the heart with a vigorous elixir so overwhelming it set to work resurrecting the long-atrophied fabric of the inner sixth sense. The deep recesses of the captivated subconscious transpired into a perceptible awareness, waking at long last from its desensitized siesta, breaking free from its prison of repressed hysteria. It would've been nice to have just relaxed, to have been left at peace, to have stayed with the angel and to have walked upon the clouds with her again...
By the gods, this must either be some powerful revelation, or one really good acid trip.
As her lucid melody reverberated through the countless groves of trees in a silky soothsayer hymn, she spoke of budding prophecies in a vivid silver tongue of which no human language could possibly repeat, composing scores of whimsical and haunting lyrics written in one of the lost languages from the forgotten spirit realm. The incentive behind the subtle messages attempted to flow into understanding like the pure waters of a crystal-clear fountain, her heavenly voice permeating through the confused molecular depths of the soul like possessive desire, beckoning echoes rippling through the cavernous green expanse of the ageless labyrinth. The dopamine floods broke through the levees of ingrained conformity, empowered by the celestial presence of the deus ex machina. There was a vital component of the being, once missing and presumed lost, which now came out of hiding in dire need to attend the sacred audience of this most wise and elegant Muse of miracles beyond imagining.
She knew the answer.
God, if only one could see her Mona Lisa smile again, hear her wonderful, joyous laughter like she did back in those carefree days, far too long ago...perhaps He did listen to this ant's little prayer, chuckling with sardonic humor, perhaps reminded of His entertaining little intervention with the lives of Job and Abraham and the daughters of Lot.
With a shock that nearly strained the heart into cardiac arrest, her voice slowly but surely faded away into the merciless concealment of the vast evergreen backdrop while the false sense of chronology sped up to the present with overt caffeinated swiftness. The elder sequoia whispered ominous forebodings from somewhere high above the dense shrouds of the storm, the Pacific Northwest answer to the world tree Yggdrasil swaying ever skyward to the condemned halls of Valhalla, perhaps calling for the majestic Valkyries to analyze and perhaps collect the fallen soul sitting lost in a strange primordial land. The unrelenting volleys of unrelenting rain drenched and soaked the very bones to their marrow cores, concealing the distant topography with jealous haste, patterning with an intermittent background tempo which synchronized with the sound of her faint mysterious aria. The dense haze of the shrouding downpour threatened to consume existence and erase reality, beckoning the call for a challenge, a trial, a Herculean labor in which to follow the ephemeral sound of her gorgeous song into the yawning brink of all creation. The call was strong, a rediscovered vital instinct tugging at the very center of life itself.
At that moment, there was no more pain…only the shattering of chains, the promise of freedom from mental slavery, and the endless road ahead.
Without a second thought, without either the tangling roots of regret and uncertainty nor the literal roots of the judicious redwood to hold back the yearning soul, the being stood upon sprained ankles and, without warning, charged into the merciless barriers of rain into the perilous challenges of the great unknown. The muscles thrust and burned into action, straining with furious jerks of instantaneous urgency, adapting on the go against the oncoming winds and ceaseless walls of sleet. The eyes squinted through the persistent barrage of the cold and intimidating torrents, picking out obscure boscage routes more-or-less parallel to benchmarking waters of the winding tributary from within the semi-transparent immensity of the growing storm. Each quick cautious footstep waded in the spreading quagmires with an almost feline precision, all memory of bodily pain forgotten as the figure delved into the thickening silhouettes of boreal trees and bowled through the dense undergrowth. The arduous trek continued onward, voyaging ever deeper into the untamed terrain, sharing many of the ancestral qualms displayed by Bilbo Baggins and his party of dwarves as they descended into the perpetual darkness of ancient Mirkwood.
Somewhere deep within the unforeseen gloom, the faintest whisper of her voluptuous voice called out in soft, reverent psalms. The heart burned brighter with painful longing, filled with a unquenchable desire beating with the escalating savage rhythm of a heavy conga drum, nearly shattering the ecstatic organ like a pane of ruby glass. Her voice held no pain yet grew ever fainter, receding further into the primordial backdrop like a distant ship's smoke fading out on the endless horizon. Onward the torturous adventure goes, down the same metaphorical warren which inspired Alice's pursuit of the elusive White Rabbit.
The verdure walls of the labyrinthine chambers grew closer and more claustrophobic, closing in on the narrowing path with an almost benign malice. The rains summoned forth multiple scores of intoxicated animals to forage and frolic out under the turbulent skies, the creatures ignoring their warm shelters to parade in their own wild frenzies as they were completely engulfed in the harmonious tones drifting in between the trees like a sweet smoke, almost as if possessed by the very elements of the swirling cosmos. The glass surface of the meandering stream rippled and fractured within its bed, gorging upon the precipitation like a boa constrictor as it churned leagues of tranquil waters into leagues of chaotic rapids. Subtle vibrations emanating from the soft ground sent pulsing volts of mesmerized momentum climbing up the sensitive nerve endings of the feet, egging on the lumbering figure through the intimidating maze regardless of whether the body wanted to continue or not.
Considering all that was happening, all that was beyond comprehension, one could only guess what lies ahead in the endless cycling road, driven ever forward along the runic path by the unrelenting free will of destiny.
It...she...whatever this power really was, this would lead to the answer...whatever it may be...
Each flash of lightning ripped the heavens asunder, each crash of thunder augmented across the land with the full force of a sonic boom. The maenad shrieks of unseen raptors echoed in orgiastic triumph, perhaps singing their avian hearts out in their sacred war chants, presumably picking off some of the smaller prey too absorbed in their own insane frolics to notice or care. The violent winds shoved their way through the thick density of foliage, screaming with the voices of the damned and forgotten. The trees wavered portentously in the ripping currents, their branches cracking and tumbling from the great heights in a possible sign of forbidding. All the while the pervasive showers poured on with heavy impetus, threatening to grow into a maelstrom capable of birthing a mindless deluge that could flood the world like in the Christian myth of Noah's ark or any of the other apocalyptic creation myths conceived from the aboriginal peoples of long ago.
All the while her beautiful song remained the same.
The juxtaposition of the gymnosperms inched ever closer until they formed a winding tunnel which enclosed the quizzical makeshift path, standing protectively along the borders on either side like vigilant green sentinels. The countless jutting spires of rain were compressed and concentrated into random clouds of aerosol mists, straining from the trickling apexes of the thick canopy like old-fashioned lemonade, churning the soil into one massive tortuous quagmire which grasped at the feet with a ravenous hunger and devoured the breadcrumb trail of past footprints like mere appetizers. The soggy grasses underfoot fused into the living muddy earth, decomposing into a nutrient-rich compost in a matter of seconds, making each potential step more and more likely to snag in the rotting clumps and open maws of the thriving fertilizer. The encompassing pall of the storm had all but erased every conceivable trace of light, adding excess pressure to the adjusting eyes to the point where observing the material plane had become nearly impossible once again...but it seemed the body had other ways to overcome this inconvenient disability.
Each rugged breath and whispered mutter bounced off the atomic structure of each hidden obstacle ahead, feeding the feeble optic nerve centers with an enhanced radar input of the surrounding area surprising in its striking quality. As the legs continued to soar like a bat flying through hellish caves out into the solid depths of midnight, the excavated sense akin to echolocation navigated the being with flawless ease through the consistency of the Etch-A-Sketch world, the ears growing sharper until each electron particle of sound rippled upon the battlefield surface of the famished mind.
Somewhere in the midst of Nature's congregation her serenade cleaved through the compact walls of matter with gamma ray precision, coming through the darkness of the space-time continuum in shapeless waves, her unseen lips moving in soulful words which the ears of mortal man couldn't hear, and therefore they couldn't know what she was saying. Regardless of the human factor, the native inhabitants of the natural world were listening with animal intent to the different frequencies of her beautiful song, all of them heeding in unquestionable unity to her unearthly tempo, all of them consumed with myriad longing, all of them keen to the primal substance of existence gushing forth from her most gorgeous and soulful hymn, and the universe that it represented...
It was the answer.
Her exquisite narrative led through the glittering dark-hued catacombs of the cavernous forest, guiding the soul past secret trails engraved with cornucopias of shrubs and ferns. These trails were scarcely lit by the dim Cat’s-eye glow of luminescent mushrooms, trails hidden by thick serpentine coils of roving fog slithering about between the rich endless plethora of shadows and darkness. The flickering motion of the expanding river flowed with increasing gallons into some uncharted section of the natural gauntlet, carving numerous capillaries as it weaved towards the presumably distant swamps of the west, trickling simultaneously to the omnipotent altruism of her musical composure. Somewhere in the storming vistas far above the drenched xyloidine walls, a flashing murder of crows cawed in shrill wily laughter, swooping above the treetops like glossy-black stones, flapping their ebony
wings in a synchronized rhythm matching that of her enchanted ocarina voice.
She reminded that pain was nothing, but salvation...salvation was everything...
The trek was reaching for the wells of eternity, stretching for what felt like passing hours, lengthened days, transient years and cosmic eons...time itself was completely irrelevant in the true concept of life, for Kronos was outdated in this realm and went instead by the name of Saturn. Twist begot turn, turn begot twist, yet the maze of this existence sprawled on forever into the coveted distance. Events followed each other in progressively hazy conga lines, ultimately decided by the obsolete mystic powers once attributed to the Ouija board and the dreamcatcher.
No mere mortal hand nor eye could possibly comprehend the dense atomic fabric of this celestial tapestry, yet she alone knew the lost secrets and forgotten truths to multifaceted existence. She is one with the infinity of infinities, watching over the breach of this illustrious world and worlds beyond the cursed gates...
Suddenly the graceful form of a black-tailed doe emerged from the depths of a bordering cluster of rhododendron, huckleberry, and sword ferns not three meters ahead, shattering the twisting trails of insane paradox as she galloped swiftly across the forest floor upon her lithe spindly legs. Her large velvet eyes glowed like headlights along a dark highway, prying her way through the perpetual gloom of the eternal forest, while her long springboard ears pricked up in a constant mixed state of startled alertness and suspicious awareness. The thickets from which the deer soared so abruptly burst apart to reveal two young fawns with patches of miniature constellations dotting their soft coats, playful in their mimicking the fluid strides of their mother, large globular eyes basking in the curious shades of their immediate surroundings. Right before the incredulous stare of the gawking unbeliever, the young twins joined the company of their cautious parent, and together the family trio of ungulates raced through the shadows with impossible speed and incredible accuracy. They cast one final glance upon the woods and the dumbfounded figure standing in frozen awe before vanishing into the refuge of dense foliage on the opposite side of the path, bright wondering spirits illuminating through the spectral haze and returning to their higher states of being.
The heart inexplicably missed a few beats. It took a faded moment to realize that everything started to throb in pitch black flashes, and longer still before the heaving transfixed body managed to regain some semblance of control. Entire lifetimes had come and gone, plotted by fate and powered by free will, before the trembling legs resumed their accustomed motions through the primeval labyrinth of living darkness. The captivated mind resumed this eternal quest with renewed gusto, following the lingering echoes of the Angel's lustrous voice singing her audiovisual form of Ariadne's enchanted ball of string. The sight of the fleeting family of deer almost faded away from living memory, replaced once more by her beautiful mantras slowly but surely resonating within the tunnels of grey matter, seasoning the emotional soup of consciousness with a temporary dash of implacable nostalgia. It was a strange feeling. There was no logical reason for feeling so impetuous about the sighting of such insignificant animals...and yet...yet perhaps her magical incantations will reveal the meaning of these furtive notions in due time, summoning insightful visions like some modern-day equivalent of the Oracle of Delphi.
Perhaps, one day, our souls could finally be reunited...perhaps one day, we could have everything return to what it once was, to what it had been so very long ago...we could return to before that fateful day, before everything in life had changed forever. Perhaps...perhaps she knew...
There was absolutely no indication of how far into the endless depths of chaos the figure ran, for everything became lost in the unfathomable currents of the infamous black seas of infinity. The constant walls of rain and the waif-like animal noises of the increasingly nonexistent forest growled menacing obscenities from the unforeseen distance, mutating into a strange horrid presence not unlike the monsters from Lovecraft's Cthulhu Mythos threatening to convert the mind into the esoteric order of madness. Every cell within the physical body cried out with exhausted protest as the dwindling stores of adrenaline were reduced to minute fragments of recycled geriatric zeal. Every reliable perception of the human anatomy, both through the normal and supernatural sense, began to deteriorate with rapid haste into a dull state of listless obsolescence. Reality had lost all meaning long ago, and even the figments of the imagination were turning grotesque and sour, rotting away in this disorienting hellhole of cold empty space.
Had it not been for her angelic promise of a hidden refuge safe from the ever-creeping darkness of mere being, the mind would've self-destructed into that sickly profusion of high-octane insanity. Without her, none of the following would've been possible, or would've otherwise taken an overwhelming place in a broken mind from within the lobotomized confines of a rubber room.
Just beyond this eternal dark and stormy night, just when the scared diurnal rodent within couldn’t take anymore of the building pressure from the vast nothingness, the sudden borders of a bright island of green sward blazed in bright defiance to the threatening gloom, shining like a sacred blessing of the forgotten gods. The sudden apparition of land appeared to float in the emptiness of space with unmatched tranquility, so peaceful and oblivious to the consumed realms of the void, impervious to the lost yesterdays which fuel the infamous diet of the wretched Langoliers. With each closing step, the paranoid fears of the unknown diminished into superstitious weariness. Each ragged breath fed the flickering cinders within upon renewed oxygenated hope, each inhale and exhale rising and falling like the Phoenix born out of the desolate ashes of antiquity .
The ceaseless deluge at last started to calm down into fragmentary rains and then into a relaxed drizzle, the thirsty body absorbing the liquid with amphibian skin. The tempests had stopped screaming with their elemental rage, whispering instead with the yearning robust breaths of gorgeous days gone by and gorgeous days still to come. The random animals of the ethereal darkness cooed and cawed in a decidedly melodious chorus, no longer threatening like some lingering spawn from the infernal realms of Lucifer, but no less mysterious and wild then before. Above it all, her lovely oratorio wafted in the gusts of a gentle breeze, guiding the essence of the lost soul to the purest source of her golden salvation.
She would lead to the answer. If only she weren't so far away...
For one horrifying moment it appeared as if this piece of Fiddler’s Green would remain stationary against the encompassing black of space, defying the Newtonian laws of physics as it remained forever out of the reach of mortal universal forces, and for just an instant the mind was shrouded in blinding madness. However, as the pace grew faster and the internal craving hunger grew ever stronger, the ancient grove sharpened into high-definition focus unlike anything experienced in the waking material plane. The dark walls of towering gymnosperms had given way to a small centralized hillock, its circumference strewn with jade grasses and saturated with vibrant wildflowers growing like colorful patches of polished gemstones. The knoll itself was endowed in a late-summer gown of timeless vivacious greenery, as if this petite area had been hostess to a playwright's stage for the ceremonious dance of dryads and nymphs. The crickets chirped away in a pulsing rhythmic unison, while a grand variety of radiant songbirds darted through the open air to chirrup together like an accompanying feathered orchestra. The faint canvas of the heavens beyond the canopy glowed like a mosaic painting in silver and grey, the overcast battleground of nimbus clouds churning and gyrating into shapeless forms as unpredictable as the revered Moirai.
It was hard to say...she was so close...and yet, it...she...still felt so far away...still petrified in that same cruel distance, still caught in the cold-hearted relativity through the time-space continuum,running in vain on an infinite treadmill towards some unattainable prize far beyond the creature comforts of human desire. Her wondrous soul was the Eurydice to the mortal rambler's Orpheus, so beautiful and full of life, spirited away into the dismal underworld by that cruel twist of fate. That stealthy seed of doubt had taken its vile root, attempting to convince the parasitic dread within that this was all nothing more than an optical illusion of the most vindictive kind. The mind was conflicted with turmoil, as frantic and restless as the questionable ideals of mankind’s fractured sanity. The fire continued to burn cold as ancient steel.
The determination to life again, to see her again, shall carry on through this otherworldly ordeal to the very end...the light...must head towards the light...the answer...
At long last, as if some of the accepted laws of physics had finally reestablished themselves into the foundations of this bizarre breathtaking world, the small ecological shrine was at last inching closer, radiating like the warm inviting fire of a scented candle beckoning the gullible moth forward. The budding profusion of vibrant flora sprouted as if in time-lapse from the growing light, feeding off the rich photosynthetic energy trickling down upon this natural shrine. The colorful residents of the miniature aviary darted to and fro among the obscure branches with melodies blazing through the holy air. Small marble butterflies fluttered about in sudden abundance, perhaps freshly hatched from the protective shells of their hidden chrysalises. An invincible otherworldly power reverberating throughout the land, whispering cryptic hints of the lost secrets to a higher state of existence. Her angelic hymn resonated with complex frequencies originating from some nameless dimension, expressing her rich empathic soul through the primordial forces of Mother Nature.
She was here! She was the answer!
The sacred circle bathed in newborn columns of light, becoming more real with every stride. The first small step for man passed through the hallowed frontier, waking instinct progressing to weary awe upon entering the legendary terrain of rumored Eden. Every perceivable particle in the body burned like molten igneous rock in the radiance of the soft pale light, all hint of nightmarish dusk evaporating from the soul as if inhaled by a quantum vacuum. At the flip of a coin, the sensation of sight altered from the darkest shade of black to the brightest hue of white and back again, blinding the retinas once more by the sudden change of earthly perception. Her song approached the highest peak in unspoken climax, reaching far into the majestic zenith to chime ever after within the stunned receptors of the soul.
And then, just like that, all was as silent as the grave.
Nothing happened at first. Then, with a sudden gut-wrenching jerk, the mind was ravaged by the deafening quiet which surrounded the circumference of the little refuge with a suffocating embrace. Only the faintest hum of her final druidic note, similar to that of a live electrical conductor, continued to echo within the ringing eardrums, buzzing with a haunting speck of inevitability lingered long after the final curtain was drawn to a close. No living thing dared speak aloud in this empty lapse of reason, all of whom were just as apprehensive about the oddities of life as the dumbfounded fool…yet the woodland organisms seem to have that almost prophetic sense of understanding, a close relative to an animal’s uncanny ability to detect natural disasters in advance; a gift long atrophied in the domesticated human consciousness, severed from the umbilical cord of the world in our attempt to commit wanton blasphemy.
They didn’t sense danger or loneliness or confusion. They were part of the circle. They were alive, and they were dead, and they were everything in between. They were one with the planet, one with Her essence…one with the answer…
The long strange road took another unexpected turn when the shaman flew overhead.
Out of the blue the large graceful form of a snowy egret emerged from the tallest treetops, soaring across the shrouded grey heavens with unmatched tranquility. Broad porcelain wings carried the stunning bird along the turbulent drafts, while golden dinosaur eyes peered down into the darkness of the eternal forest from atop the long serpentine neck. Perhaps it was searching for signs of life within the vast extent of evergreen blankets, perhaps foraging far from home in the distant western marshlands to explore the uncharted surrealist land. There were many droll variables to the logic, or lack thereof, which might explain the appearance of the white apparition: the ecological horrors of climate change immediately comes to mind, the loss of the wetlands causing the abnormal migration to higher ground.
Then again, it could just be pure coincidence…
The body, mind, and soul were immobilized together by the presence of such a majestic entity of nature in flight. The metaphysical construct of being witnessed as the great egret soared through the vivid blue-grey sky and wondering eye like a hot knife through butter, a wild force of noble dignity almost basking in the dim splendor of the residual sunlight leaking through the dominating overcast. The spirit bird flew proud and free across the consistency of reality, through the transparent planes of existence and in between worlds.
Perhaps it was a guardian against the endless void.
In the flash of mere nanoseconds, the sacred emblem dived straight into the eternal depths of the green abyss. The peering gaze flickered into a full spasm as it searched in vain for the ashen messenger, searching with frantic haste for the meaning behind the peripatetic avian. The dizzy consciousness was fully awake now, caught by the currents of the wind like a trout caught on a fishing line, absorbed by the slightest ruffle in the distant meadow outside...
Wait…there was something...someone...dancing just beyond the gawking regard of peripheral vision…just beyond the doors of perception...
For one fleeting glimpse, out of the corner of the eye, the wild consciousness almost convinced itself that the shadows had crafted the outline of a humanoid shape. She was an elegant feminine figure born from the congregation of dawn and dusk, her hair drifting in the soft breeze just within the concealed borders of lambent sunlight and perpetual shadow. The figure's gorgeous form shimmered in the thin rays of light and darkness, perfectly centered within a celestial Venn diagram containing the nexus of existence and the fabric of reality. She almost appeared to be hovering inches above the humus-strewn ground like a siddha who had attained full enlightenment, her own clairvoyant gaze full with the transcendent secrets of the universe and beyond.
She knew the answer. She knew...she had always been the embodiment of Fate, after all.
She was Clotho, for she had brought forth life. She was Lachesis, for she has made life shine with desire and purpose. She was Atropos, for she will have made the gift of life worth living, to hell with the consequences which dared stand in the way. She stood stronger than a Stonehenge pillar in the center of the sacred Flower of Life, her head crowned by the complex geometric Star Mother. She is both the Alpha and Omega, the beginning and the end. All of existence flows through her like the oxygenated blood in mortal pulsing veins, branching outward like the archive network of neurons sparking in the brain, breathing free like the lovely hymn of her sweet voice, glowing bright like the crystal embers of her sharp expressive eyes.
She was a guardian angel from the infinity of infinities, quite literally the deus ex machina. She knew the answer...she knows the answer…
The eager mind turned to look, overcome with a rapture now exonerated from its lonely jail, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming of this very moment to transpire. It has been far too long...it has been far too long since this moment in life had gone to pass...it has been far too long since the opportunity had arisen to create with her all the good times that were and all the good times yet to come...it has been far too long. The cold air thickened into warm molasses, the mosaic ceased to move and breathe in mid-drift,, the heart froze in throbbing anticipation on the verge of internal combustion. To be, or not to be, that was the question...and she knew the answer...
I turned to look...but she was gone.
She was gone.
Skeletons of glass shattered from the internal ruptures of realization like a Russian nesting doll collapsing upon itself. Shoals of crazy thoughts warped in the impossible twists and turns of a M.C. Escher sketch. The engine sputtered and refused to run again, wanting nothing more to do than scream like a maniacal looney in the pain and loss of vitality. The figure fell in utter distraught, almost kneeling upon buckling knees in futile prayer. The figure had to keep from speaking the insane gibberish often associated with Christian tongues in the midst of this sudden heartbreak.
It was getting harder to breathe, harder to see, harder to think. What in the hell was going on?
Something was off...something vital was evidently missing…what in the hell was missing? There was something...couldn’t put a finger on it, now...
Without warning, something brushed with almost tender care against the skin with the aid of another gentle breeze. The hand caught it with the impulsive instinct of an absent-minded robot, holding the mystery object between the ginger clamp of the shaking index and thumb. The lunatic eyes continued to gawk in their vacant strain at where the strange apparition of memory once stood, content to be lost forever in the thousand-yard stare, until the firm softness of reality pulled the mind out of its newfound stupor and turned attention to the ethereal thing caught in the trembling hand.
It was a white feather. The very sight brought about a plethora of confused wondrous thought, with the honest dash of incredulity mixed in for good measure. This can’t be real…this felt too much like some hackneyed scene from Forrest Gump or Inception to be anything readily believable...and yet, here it was. The delicate quills ruffled in the cool subtle breaths of wind, flowing almost like real plumage. Who knows, perhaps the stunning hoary feather might’ve traveled untold miles and countless leagues from who knows where, all just to drift into the vicinity of this very spot, at this very moment, for reasons which still remain unknown to this very day.
Was it coincidence?
Was it a symbol of the lost worlds before and beyond? Were there spirits watching over this odd encounter,
some entity which watched over all that has passed and all that is to come? Was it her?
It was hard to tell...couldn't put my finger on it, now...why is that? What is this about?
Was it because the child had grown? Was it because...was it because the dream was done?
Had I become...comfortably numb?
Our eyes are the maps of the journey from which we came...







II
Without warning, everything ceased to exist.
It all happened too fast. One minute, the intense heat of the moment, the magnificent expanse of endless forests...the flickering light of the gyrating sky...the living creatures peeking through the depths of untamed wilderness...the unimaginably beautiful, feminine messiah, emanating the breathtaking presence greater than any marble goddess of classical Greek myth, meditating in the most holy of holy lands...everything was there, everything was so alive, so real. Life itself glowed bright with purpose and soul and reason and...dare I say it...love.
In the next, without warning or even a single precaution, everything had suddenly melted away like molten beeswax. Everything was suddenly shrouded in the uniform dread of formless chaos. Everything was consumed by the sickly gates of oblivion. Everything had just...evaporated, almost as if it were nothing more than a...no…oh no...no goddammit, no...not again...no God you m**********r, not again...

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Author's Note

*An older rough draft version of this story can be found under the (technically defunct) character The Werewolf, one of my many alter egos.