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Spiritual Journeys #2
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The mortality of the Dreamer
| Spiritual Journeys #2 |
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The mortality of the Dreamer |
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TasteOfOctober Member
since 2003-06-24
Posts 94 |
The Mortality of the Dreamer Cosmic Spectators A single star in the sky, pink in color, reaches down from her perch in the bottomless abyss that is the night sky to inspect a weaving wrapped round a lonely boy’s soul and sees a spy lurking in the form of a crow watching this soul, and so seeing the star sends a cardinal to perch always near the growing tension of the storm that in this boy will end to begin tomorrow as the rules of engagement concerning eternity are stated, and the Goddess of poetry needs to know… A shark in the nets will die and the fire on the mountain will fade, but what does this say for the wandering bear in the forest? That’s what’s to be learned from said cosmic spectator’s striving even in the face of eternity for the wisdom blowing in the wind as the storm comes calling at the bidding of one mortal child, after all, the wisdom in a child’s love for his mother is more than any man could know and in his seeking for the eternal’s secrets, it is the love that carries what’s needed to be known. Though truth is a fluid thing and is always changing , a moment’s truth is an existence all it’s own, and because of this, only the dreamers will ever know truth…for the mortality of the dreamer is just as fleeting as the moment of truth and as the truth finds a new meaning the dreamer dies. The Brothers On the banks of a small pond beneath the weeping willow there are two tear-filled and dreaming brothers each making a wish on a single bough of the willow. Both of them weeping, bounded in brotherhood by their grieving and dreaming. Founded in truth there is a journey started there in friendship and beyond in the bonds of blood, a bond that would never end, founded with a wish on the willow’s bough between the Hunter and the Wanderer. Two children beyond their years founding a future that they never expected to find, two boys out in the world that subconsciously feared them, two men that would never come to be. The Wolf and the Bear The lone wolf howls to his Goddess in the night even as the children’s stories spin the telling around the hearts of man and beast; speaking of the loneliness experienced by a child of nine left alone without even a soul mate to love. The wolf kills a deer as he must to live, nothing to lose and nothing to gain but one more hunt ; not afraid of death but unwilling to give in to it and unable to stop the dealing of it. The bear, starving with an appetite that went beyond the physical needs of his body comes across the bloody scene of the wolf’s fresh kill and even before the bear’s instincts sing to him of the storm brewing overhead and underfoot, the lone wolf squares off against the wandering bear and bears his bloodstained teeth to his would-be rival. The bear feels the fight coming and growls through the tension. Both animals are waiting for the fight to begin, waiting for the moment of waiting to pass, waiting for the storm to break the tension. Then the thought is formed and the animals are faced with a realization…where is the rain? And so defeated that they both were they walked off together, heads hanging low, into the forest. However, what about the dead and bleeding deer? The crow came and fed off the kill and followed the lone wolf and wandering bear into the forest. The Birth of the Wanderer This moment came and passed. A lifetime away a damned man in hell refused to resign himself to what the fates had decreed. He was chained by the wrists to flames that could not be conquered and was guarded by two demons that tortured him for what was to be an eternity. Both demons stretched forth a hand, reaching into this man, one into his mind and one into his heart. They each grabbed hold of what they found and pulled it out; one with a memory and one with an emotion. Then each holding what they had found joined hands fusing the memory and emotion together and they then saw that they held in their foul joined hands this man’s soul; and they taunted and tortured him with it. The pain grew so great within this damned man that he opened up a channel within himself and heard the growling of the bear with the howling of the lone wolf and in that moment this man became the storm. The fight that should have taken place a lifetime away in that forest now surged within his veins. He broke the chains bound round his wrists and grabbed his soul away from his oppressors. He then wrapped those chains around both of the demon’s throats and bellowed his rage; a sound so powerful that it conquered the hellfire surrounding him and he formed it into a chariot. The man climbed in and forced the demons to pull the chariot back to the land of the living where he destroyed the chariot and slew the demons. The man, who had been a thief before he was cast into damnation, looked at his soul as he held it in his hands. It was a photograph of him and the woman he loved and lost. He looked up into the night sky and saw the moon shining in all her splendor and a pink star shining just to the right. Between these two powers of the night sky he held up the photograph that was his soul and he understood two things in the symbolism. He knew that now he was twice damned and knew also that he had transcended from the thief to the Wanderer and he started walking. Would he have looked up again he’d have seen a cardinal following him with its eyes. The Sleeping Woman In the middle of the sea a woman slept on the surface of the ocean, dreaming of a coming rain and a day that had ended long ago that she had done her best to forget. This dream came unbidden from nothingness and the pain of the dream kindled a small fire within her chest. This small fire brought a single tear from her right eye and a quivering breath from her soft lips. That breath became a mighty wind that carried her tear into the dark clouds above that were heading for the mainland. The fire then died out and she returned to her peaceful slumber. None can say how long she’s slept there or how long she will continue to sleep there on the surface of the ocean, and none can say if she will remember the dream when she wakes… She gave birth to the rain but the connection to the child from her past was fleeting to begin with and now is lost to eternity… She fades from all knowledge as the sun rises to claim the land for dawn. Observation This knowledge brings more than a few answers to the storm watchers, and in the constant state of ignorance that wraps itself around humanity like a blanket around a small child, everything learned will only ever breed more questions. Cosmic games are played and battles fought, but whether the reason is balance or the unknown…the outcome is nearly always the same and the onlookers must face the consequences born of the destruction of what had been human history. Hope is in the womb of the mother as she conceives life once again bringing to attention the fact that in the meantime the only thing we know is survival. That is no comfort to the crow as he observes the carnage left in the wake of a race for power, power that cannot be held or had but is killed for anyway. He eats as he must to continue his mission for life and death but is so enveloped in his meal and his task of observation that the bird of life and death does not notice the warrior spy of the Goddess of poetry perched always so near. And the cardinal so taken with his own mission fails to notice as a hawk, a merlin, circles overhead waiting for the moment to strike. The Death of the Hunter Concrete walls and prison bars leave a man locked in a dark dank prison cell with nowhere to go but crazy, but the events that had transpired that have left this man to his binding came at not only the bidding of genius but also the embrace of insanity itself. To the once proud Hunter, this is a path that’s been traveled already more than once before. It isn’t so much the insanity or the loneliness but rather the redundancy that has taken hope from this man and he knows it well… a heart too dead to feel the shame of the mistakes he’s made or the pain of all he’s lost. This man is now driven by a singular instinct, the thought of survival but still has his insanity and so still has his brilliance but the knowledge that even if he does live has already died regardless is overwhelming…but this is a man beyond pain. The walls holding him do nothing to shelter him from the memories; one memory in particular, of a small pond beneath the boughs of a weeping willow. No matter how some wounds heal and no matter how old some scars prove themselves to be, the festering wounds of betrayal do not close, but thankfully again, this is a man beyond pain. For this his eyes have grown sharp and as he looks out the barred window in his cell he sees what not even divinity could comprehend and he breaks through the riddle of existence, closing his fists around everything, nothing, and the reflection that spawned all life. He slumps down against a wall and silently damns the world. No creature in all existence could match eyes with this man, the intensity burns away at everything and as he bows his head to eternal slumber his soul rises to divinity. He stops and waits for a moment, waiting for his only friend and would-be rival but the bear is still wandering in the forest; still wondering what happened to the rain. Had the Wanderer held on to a woman’s dreams for a moment longer, he might have seen the truth. The Hunter as he rises to godhood sheds a tear that falls on the head of the Wanderer. Now they were both alone again for eternity… The End of a Dream The hawk had been paying attention and picked this moment as the moment to strike. He swooped down and grabbed the crow and the cardinal one in each talon and spoke: “Yes…all of eternity’s secrets are in the span of a single tragedy.” “And which tragedy was that? We have seen so many in this single dream.” The cardinal said. The hawk squeezed the cardinal and said “the dream has ended…is that not enough? All that could be is lost eternally to sorrow for the mortality of the dreamer”. And with that the hawk killed both birds and went off in search of the woman who still sleeps on the surface of the sea. |
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wintertao Member
since 2003-11-17
Posts 366Okaloosa Island, FL |
"In the middle of the sea a woman slept on the surface of the ocean," lots of very nice lines in here, well done indead ! |
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SharaRose Member Elite
since 2003-07-19
Posts 2501Somewhere out there~ |
WOW...everyone of these were beautiful. I love reading stories, and these were all captivating. I was wondering...is there something significant about the Cardinal? Everyday on my patio I feed the birds in the morning and I always have this wishful thinking thing that I will see a Cardinal. I never do, but I always seem to have that in the back of my mind. If you know the significance would you share that? Terri~  Well I will go down with this ship |
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Mistletoe Angel 
since 2000-12-17
Posts 32816Portland, Oregon |
 (big happy dance standing ovation) Yay! Oh my gosh, this was one wonderful story, dearest friend, I too found the Cardinal to feel like a sage of sorts as they have such unique, vivid beauty! (smiles) You would make a wonderful metaphysical writer, sweet firend, God Bless You, you speak of the spirits so well, we all love you so much! You have such a beautiful heart, sweet friend, thank you for sharing!  May love and light always shine upon you! Love, Noah Eaton "You'll find something that's enough to keep you |
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