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You believed me
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You believed me |
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Copperbell Senior Member
since 2003-11-08
Posts 956 |
As the mind relaxes between light and darkness, on the blade of near conciousness a story unfolds. A plateau of rock erupts out of the earth, pushing its way into the sky - and I am standing on it. Higher and higher it climbs until I can see nothing of the ground below; only bottomless space. I explore my land. It is sterile and completely flat and rectangular, the size of a basketball court. Everything on it is red brown grit - and myself. I need no food, nor water. I am exposed to the elements and yet I am warm and comfortable. I have no needs. I explore my world further. The cliffs are staggering and still I cannot see the ground, only empty space. Suddenly I see a ladder attached to the edge of the cliff, leading downward to the ground. It is made of rope and I cannot see the end of it. After much contemplation I decide to climb down it. After a day of descending the ladder, I realize I am no closer to the ground and I am hungry and tired. I cannot sleep on a ladder like this, I am bound to fall into oblivion if I dare sleep. So I climb the twisting, awkward ladder back up to my world. Defeated I sit on the grit of my world holding my head in my hands. I have no needs and yet something is not right. I look up into the expanse of sky and I wonder. I wander to another part of my world and I lie down in the dirt and look up into the expanse of sky - and I wonder. And I dared to pray. Days went by, days of warm comfort, when one day someone appeared on my rock and sat beside me. He was dressed in white clothes and he clasped his hands around his knees. We talked about my life and my thoughts and after many days he became my dear friend. One day he told me he wanted to show me something. He lifted his pant leg and showed me his feet and as he did he held out one wrist, "See these scars," he said as he rubbed his thumb over one of them. "These are scars of freedom - I had a huge fight once a long time ago." I looked at the numerous scars and wondered. They were deep, not from scratches. They were wounds, once deep and painful. "Did you win?" I asked. "Yup," he said and grinned. "That's why I'm here. This world although comfortable for you allows you few of the pleasures you are supposed to experience." Suddenly thoughts filled my mind, visions of dreams I used to be passionate about. Dreams of exploring and changing certain wrongs in this world, idealistic, innocent dreams. A sadness entered my heart as I realized I had been up on this rock for many years and I forgot about everything I had once longed for. My friend stood up and held out his hands. "Take my hands," he instructed. I looked at them and knew that at some point my friend had experienced more pain than I could imagine. The scars revealed holes that had been poked into his flesh. "I can't hold your hands," I said and turned away from him. I didn't know why I didn't want to, I just knew I couldn't do it. He was my friend, yes, but something in his eyes told me if I held his hands it was deadly serious. He touched my shoulder and spoke. "You cannot hold my hands because you do not trust me. You like me, you like our conversations, but you do not trust what will happen to you if you hold my hands." I turned and saw sorrow in his eyes. My heart was torn. If I held his hands he was going to do something, I just knew it. But I didn't know what. And I didn't think to ask... "You are here because you did not hold my hands, my friend. Your whole life you have put together your life but you forgot something important. You forgot to believe me." "Look at me," he instructed. I looked into his face. He was the same dear friend with whom I had spent countless hours telling all my stories. I looked into his eyes. I saw love and I saw authority; this man had power. He held out his hands again. As I looked at him I knew I could trust him. I held out my hands to his. The ground began to rumble and shiver and my plateau of a world sank quickly and smoothly back into the earth like a waterfall flows into its river. When it stopped he let go of my hands. "Come with me," he said and pointed to our surroundings. "You believed me," he said grinning, as we stepped off the rock onto a lush meadow. "Let me show you your new world." |
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| © Copyright 2003 Copperbell - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Dusk Treader
Moderator
Senior Member
since 1999-06-18
Posts 1187St. Paul, MN |
I rather liked this story. A good description of a religious experience, the fears and the trust. We all have so many options open to us and we must choose the one that is right for us. For some it is to entrust ourselves to his hands. Excellent piece of writing and I greatly enjoyed the concept. |
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Copperbell Senior Member
since 2003-11-08
Posts 956 |
Thanks. It was an interesting dream I had. |
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