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Kethry
Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-29
Posts 9082
Victoria Australia

0 posted 2002-04-23 08:15 AM


In the Shadow of the Rock

By
Kethry Vale

We dwell in the shadow of the rock, a folk part asleep, half alive waiting for the Dreamtime. We are forgotten by time, forsaken by civilisation, foresworn by those who loved us and yet we remember.

It was not always so. Once we reigned in power and majesty, our reflection could be seen in the sky it was reflected in the waters. It was sacred and no image of our beauty escaped onto the rocks. The people worshipped us then and we grew strong in the power of the land. We were not of the land but we knew the land and the people called us gods when we sent the rain in its season and the wind to cool the land. The people knew us and gave us substance in their praise. They were chosen by us to guard  the land, to protect it and in their dedication to duty we became strong. We were happy in those days, we lived and played in the sunshine. The people saw us and made legends of the rainbow serpents that covered and protected the land. We smiled upon them and sang our songs of joy into their listening ears, they heard us as the wind and took our wisdom to their hearts making it their own.  They were as children to us and yet we needed them. We had long ago lost the art of nurture of the land and the land began to turn against us in anger. The earth ran red with the blood of war, it bears the taint yet, you can see it in the setting sun, you can feel it in the soil, you can breathe it in on the hot winds if you try hard enough. We are the taste of iron in your mouth, the breath of despair on your cheek, the hint of trembling beneath your feet and we remember now as we did then what it means to war with the land.

Now we sit in silence, a silence so profound that it can be felt by those who are sensitive to its call, day by day we wait in silence. We watch for those who will come to release us. Like predators we wait for those who will hear the call of silence and free us and we no longer wish to play.
The aeons of isolation have left us bitter and twisted and we no longer seek those who would care for the land in service, we no longer wish to receive the worship that is our due. Instead we want the blood that is our pact to appease the hunger of the land. We want the sunlight to again shine on our face as we live. We desire above all else to be free from the shadow of the rock where we are chained.
Many come to this place to ogle us as we are chained to this place, many walk on our souls and call it blessed to desecrate our sacred soil. They come as spectators, laughing and sneering at our religions they come  but there are too few  believers to call us again into the sunlight and we dwell as fading myth under the shadow of the rock.

We hear your laughter on the cusp of innocence where the old meets the new and it is not pleasant. You laugh, not in wonder but in derision and the sound of your laughter causes the blood to rush to our ears to protect ourselves. You blind and deaf people do not see the blood you only see the dusty, rust of the rock as we dwindle and fade. We have heard your words on the winds and the depth of our despair is what you feel in the searing heat.

We are patient yet, for we are older than time. We survive and continue as we must tied to the shadow of the rock and we have heard rumours of the old ways returning. The people are gathering together again, away from the stifling cities that have corrupted their souls and they are remembering. The old ways are returning we have heard from the folk who have been tied to their own rock and they are being released, one by one. They have resumed the old forms of worship and as they gather together in celebration, in corroboree; our voice grows strong and we can be heard once more. More are coming we can feel it in the air and soon we will all be free.  The people are loyal but they do not understand we have changed. They remember the days of the rainbow serpent, but then their blood was pure and it was a nectar to our spirits. Now we do not know. We wish to be free ? we desire to feel the sunlight again, we want to be mirrored in the reflection of the water. But at what cost. We will never again accept the worship of the people if it means it will be torn asunder from us later, if it means we are once more tied to the shadow of the rock. The world too has changed, we have learned and grown and yet we do not know what we will be. Most of what we have learned is the way of destruction we have learned of the fire that kills  swift and sudden as a lightening strike from the sky. We have learned of the slow seeping death that comes through the water and filtered on the air. We have learned of slavery and bondage for our people both with hard metal and with spiritual bonds. We have learned of hate and of destruction and we have absorbed civilisation with all its wonder and terror.

The people are singing, we hear their voice on the night breeze and the soil trembles as our bonds grow weak and we can move again, no longer tied to the shadow of the rock.

We are free! Free to rise up and devour the land as we once did. Free to enslave the people to be our servants. Free to feed on their dreams and their fantasies. Free to soar and take our place in the sky. Free to ride the winds tainted with the grief of wailing.

We no longer dwell in the shadow of the rock and the earth trembles in fear, the skies leak scalding bitter tears and the rivers shine with blood lust.

Can you feel it? We are coming back! We are freed from the shadow of the rock and we are coming.

Here in the midst of my lonely abyss, a single joy I find...your presence in my mind.  Unknown



© Copyright 2002 Lynne Dale - All Rights Reserved
Marsha
Deputy Moderator 1 Tour
Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-10
Posts 7423
Maidstone Kent England
1 posted 2002-04-23 04:46 PM


Keth darling sister of my soul, and keeper of dreams guises, this is spectacular writing. The type of writing that takes you into the very heart of it and holds you captured and spell bound until the last word. Writing such as this is too fine, too rare to be tossed aside carelessly, or read too quickly in haste. Writing such as this must be allowed to sink into the soul of the reader and settle like a mantle over the spirit. Imparting wisdom, sharpening the senses and giving the soul such wonder, such thoughts, that they inspire, and stir that place within.

Okay this isn’t a novel so I’ll finish rhapsodising, and simply say this has been written with pure skill, and yes I utterly utterly love it.

I wub you beloved sister

Love and warm stuff
As always
Mushy

To give light to them that sit in darkness..... to guide our feet into the way of peace Luke 2:79


Janet Marie
Member Laureate
since 2000-01-22
Posts 18554

2 posted 2002-04-23 07:29 PM


We smiled upon them and sang our songs of joy into their listening ears, they heard us as the wind and took our wisdom to their hearts making it their own.  They were as children to us and yet we needed them. We had long ago lost the art of nurture of the land and the land began to turn against us in anger. The earth ran red with the blood of war, it bears the taint yet, you can see it in the setting sun, you can feel it in the soil, you can breathe it in on the hot winds if you try hard enough. We are the taste of iron in your mouth, the breath of despair on your cheek, the hint of trembling beneath your feet and we remember now as we did then what it means to war with the land.
====================================

Keth...this is a powerful, impressive write...your imagery is fabulous as is the way you carried out your theme with analogy and passionately expressed verbiage.
This is wonderful, enthralling story telling prose...and what I personally like most is the cryptic edge you gave this that leaves it open to the reader to interpretate their own spin on it...this could be taken many ways...some thoughts that came to my mothy mind are:
Native American People-spirits of the ancients speaking...also Mother Nature/the seasons speaking for the Earth and man's assault on it...also mythic Gods, also Cave-man/Dinosaurs or any creature forced to extinction...also could be read as a Vampire or Dragons and Wizard mystic or gothic theme.
Like I said it allows the mind and imagination to see many things..and thats very cool.
So great to see you writing in prose...
hope to see more from you girlie

Kethry
Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-29
Posts 9082
Victoria Australia
3 posted 2002-04-24 05:55 AM


Marsha,
thank you for your response. My car should break down and leave me an hour free more often hey! You as always have lifted my spirits with your praise.

Janet Marie,
You my lass, have interpreted correctly I was cruising publishers in the library while waiting for my car to be fixed. (I've found it doesn't work well with only three wheels) and I came across an ad for a SCIFI magazine seeking contributions for a story with an Australian theme. I immediately thought of the Rainbow Serpent a creature of Aboriginal myth and wrote the story, as you can see it's unpolished and unedited but it might be fun to re-visit it one day to see if I can polish it. It is posted here at Marsha's insistence (she's a slave driver) I'm glad you like it, your high opinion means a lot to me.

Here in the midst of my lonely abyss, a single joy I find...your presence in my mind.  Unknown



Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354
Listening to every heart
4 posted 2002-04-24 06:51 AM



I have found that when writes what one knows about, there is a better sense of sharing the reality, even if, my dear, it might be fiction to some.  This rings so true of the eons ago when life was dwelt around a rock and in all things, this landmark has stood the test of time, and who knows what shall come out from behind it!

Your pen turned prose has pleased me very much!  And it belies your "attention span" of 10-15 seconds....

thank you so much, Kethry, for this wonderful read!

Kethry
Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-29
Posts 9082
Victoria Australia
5 posted 2002-04-24 08:27 AM


Sunshine
Who knows indeedwhat's in the shadow of the rock, I wrote this as a stand alone short, short, story but you would also know the muse awoken is a jealous mistress and I may have to write more to appease the hunger
Keth

Here in the midst of my lonely abyss, a single joy I find...your presence in my mind.  Unknown



Krissy
Senior Member
since 2002-02-22
Posts 556
kent England
6 posted 2002-04-24 09:36 PM


Auntie Kethp my absolutely favourite aunt, the one with the magic pen that writes exceptionally well. You know I love this, but then yes like mum I’m a little biased. Not because I wub you, but because I know really good writing when I see it, and this is it. I suppose if you want the truth it’s because I’m so enjoying Quest, Mum told me Ryder dies, it broke my heart
anyway having read that I know really good writing, and this is it.

Well written I love it

I wub you Auntie Kethp xxx

Love and warm stuff
As always
Krissy

And while thy willing soul transpiers
at every pore with instant fires
Andrew Marvell 1621-1678

Kethry
Member Rara Avis
since 2000-07-29
Posts 9082
Victoria Australia
7 posted 2002-04-25 04:37 AM


Krissy,
thank you for your high praise.
I assume when you say Quest you mean Redemption's Journey which is the trilogy name. And of course Ryder dies, why else would I have created such an innocent. Anyway I'm glad my playing impressed you. Some people are easily impressed.
Keth

Here in the midst of my lonely abyss, a single joy I find...your presence in my mind.  Unknown



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