Language of the Gods

Standing outside in the midst of a  powerful storm my heart skips a beat and starts pattering in a way that makes me wonder if it only just now began to come alive. I look up at at the lightning filled sky and feel blue electric omniscient tentacles reaching through this matrix of fortitude like a nation of warrior seers incessantly entreating for the illusion to be pierced...and for soul seekers to come forth.

Their tentacles like a life force; energy sparks making a path in allowing me to tentatively walk through the path of darkness in a requisite need to grasp the reality that like a key will lead to unlocking portals of truth and sway the tides.

I'm learning to understand  this complex matrix; to speak the language of the seers and feel the trickling waterfall and sunrays of truths cascade like soothing rain and warm sunshine through the contrasting ominous clouds and faint screams of tortured souls of the lost and bound. A spiral through space and time; where time doesn't exist but instead, an interplay of dark and light seeking to co-exist and adapt in an endless interaction of both calm and turbulent movements throughout the dimensions of space.

I smile at the flirtation of stars, and ponder the messages of clouds both playful and foretelling. I'm comforted by the sheltering alcove of trees as they impart their tales of rooted wisdom which I take with me like talismans in the restricted confines of concrete jungles that sap my energy and have me feeling disconnected from the world I crave. I keep my eyes and heart open for the light messengers and guardians that attract the hopeful in their many shapes and forms from magnificent sunrises and mystical northern displays to the soft protective glow of night lights. I take time to heal in  the bosom of the oceans serenity and meditate in the seclusion of deep valleys and at the peaks of  mountains almost high enough to reach the gods. I  have no secrets from my moon as she is my most trusted and steadfast companion. But mostly I try to remember the teachings of air and her constant reminders to just breathe which in the most trying of times have gotten me through.

It's a spiritual birds eye point of view; that of a soul seeker not subjected to preconceived notions or the limitations and chains of doctrines and religions. Somehow we fell and we fell hard; from intelligent star dust in an expansive playground without walls to an hourglass of ashes where we live to die from point A to B in this short segment they call time.

And it gets darker down this path of babbling souls with bounded wings where many can't hear the whispers of the seers or understand their tongue on the off chance they could hear and so I hold fast to these illusive tentacles as I make my way through.

And then...  I see him.

He looks up and our eyes lock catching my breath for through them I see the reflection of a weary soul that like mine has seen too much and never enough. But unlike the hope that glows in me like an inexhaustible torch his very life source seems to be distinguishing like a burned out match. A chained warrior who had walked the ashes of the lost for too long without the echoing battle crys of his brothers or smiles of loved ones lost in the wormholes of space and scattered throughout ongoing battles of the omniscient ones.

Through his eyes like portals I recognize that place we both call home and I know he could speak the language of the omniscient if he chose. I know we would have a better chance together and longingly I plead in our unspoken language louder than battle cries and more heart wrenching than sobs.

But he seems content to sit there on his charcoal bench with his feet resting in quicksand and his heart smoking while that match burns ever lower.

And I recognize what he has forgotten; this prophesied leader of the awakening, one of the few who has eyes  that shine like windows into our world, so through mine I scream please, please remember that of which you instinctively and innately know you've lost... remember from where we came and what we need to do to go back home.

Reaching out my hand he doesn't budge and I don't know how much longer I can wait in this heated landscape... the buzz of the tentacles get louder and I don't know what to do.

I want to cry but in dehydration I fall to my knees and begin to choke, sucumbing to this nightmarish terrain. All of a sudden the weight of lifetimes and battles are too much to bear and at the verge of giving up I shut my eyes tight against the pang of loss.

Then I feel that omniscient tentacle squeeze my hand and with electric clarity coarsing through every fiber of my being witness their dire vision of epic proportions; a collapse and a rebirth.

At first I feel the pulsating waves of purity and a love undefined by language, untapped by mere human emotions dancing around and embracing every atom of my being. Immensely humled by this long lost embrace, I release lifetimes of tears and heartache because I know I've somehow finally made it to a place of complete belonging that makes our current concept of home seem like a cold lonely place of temporary refuge. That makes our concept of love seem like a fading kiss compared to the infinite trails of light kisses now healing my every wound.  "Welcome home," this omniscient wave of voices say in our own language of unity, "Welcome home."

Then they collectively relay a message that has me looking below and even within the rocking security of this blue wave of love I feel an advancing dismay and disbelief at the scene below.

As if they were protecting me before I now hear the raw sounds of destruction advancing with a darkness that foreshadows ultimate fear and death with flames of black deeper than the darkest night.

I see a beautiful blue and green orb delicate in its fragile place in space and feel the lost souls trapped in the matrix that has them blind to the greatest performance of our existence.

As if in a trance I feel the wave fervently beating over and over and over against our dimensional plane begging us to wake up and see the truth through this veil of disallusion while flames like the fangs and talons of our worse nightmares determinedly bear down closer. Paralyzed by the now collective cries of this blue wave once calm in their initial embrace, now turned turbulent in fear of losing lost souls to the darkness....

The agony is tangible as I feel pulled down in the whirlwind of the collapse that sends shivers up my spine and shockwaves throughout my mind, body, soul and the cosmos. A collapse of unfathomable proportions we have never seen before and a desolation forever imprinted on my soul now scarred with the tortured cries of those who couldn't pierce the veil.

We couldn't save them .....and now defeated and alone I walk the barren landscape in the aftermath of destruction with a sickness of heart more lasting than death.

............And then in an act I thought I was sure to forget a small smile escaped me, for in the darkest of night and through the ashes of the lost I see a beautiful green plant growing against all odds like a phoenix; a survivor of hope that promises rebirth. This precious plant renews my overwhelming love and reflames my inexhaustible torch.

With the vision now over and like a newborn gasping it's first breath I remember to breathe.

With new found strength I kneel by my dark knight and look up into those tortured eyes. Putting my hands over his heart I whisper, "Breathe...."

With a kiss of promise I speak in a language taught by our omniscient wave of love, " Don't close your eyes because they're beautiful. You'll be okay. I promise....  And I won't tell you how I cry cause our tears are the same and what you feel I've felt before and we'll be fine.  If the sky begins to fall and flames come forth we will holdfast and together we will all survive.  And if the dark comes our light will burn more....

But please, don't close your eyes though..... because they're beautiful."