Visions

Visions

I enjoy my body.

I get flashes of light that dance in Visions,

Usually in Swift Flight of a Bird --

Blue and white -- and

It crosses, heralding in a new scene --

Separate from what my eyes see, yet indistinguishable

From my personal experience.

And as beautiful as this Bird is,

She’s gone too soon.

Replaced with images undeniably Magical --

Each movie-reel is different, and unequivocally important,

Accompanied by a Resounding Material Euphoria that

Exudes Omnipresent Light.

And just when I’ve taken in my surroundings

With both my Inner and Outer Eyes,

The Reel Begins.

And Plays in Mere Minutes on a Faced-Clock,

But Immerses Me Entirely.

So I Listen. Learn.

And watch this Film of Insight from the Seat of Epiphany --

The Spark of Divinity.

And from this Perspective, the message Plays,

Rings and Resonates with the purest of tones,

So that when it’s Clicked,

I’m Kissed.

Atop my head and lips by this Brilliant Gold Light.

The Vision settles, but

Earth Remains Breathing in Essence.

I Remain,

Elated to be in my body.

Jottuns

In a Vision -- many of them really,

The Jottuns are Alive.

Great, Impeccable Beings who Once looked as Only rock, Only mountain,

Now break their form.

They crack and creak as if out of old, long sleep,

But they’re Awake.

Glowing in their eyes as Sparks off the Highest Peaks -- while

Snaps of Brightness catch Escape from sparse space in rock

As the Jottun stands and

Looks for Me.

The Gaze is Magnetic, Forceful and Innate,

For once They’ve Found me, They Have me,

And I’m entranced -- sucked into a Chamber-Channel of Energy,

Which links and merges me with this One True Giant.

In our moment of Awareness together,

We Commune in Essence, Thought, and Form --

And there’s a Call to Answer.

A Bidding to be Done.

This Whole Mountain Range moves for Me, as Me,

And I Myself?

Wrapped up --

A Part of this Curious Wonder?

Fuel an Ultimate Power Bound to Free --

And Do Exactly as I’m Charged.

Forest Archer

In Others -- I’m a warrior of a slicker kind.

I wear workable, breathable clothing in rich greens and browns.

A strap with knives at my thigh.

Another on the opposite calf.

And with a bow on my back, the quiver securely in place,

I run.

Dash. Dart. Move with a deftness in my feet that suggests familiarity with the forest floor,

Though I know I’ve never been here before.

Twilight Sun liters the ground through tiny portals of broken canopy,

And the raucous melody of the Forest grows soft and still,

Yet never silent as I approach --

A respectful Omen of my crossing, to be sure,

But I’ve not the time to return a favor any more than the

Swiftness of my Movements and the Essence of my Mission.

Then, up atop a great hill, undeterminable leagues away,

I stop.

Pant.

My breath mirrors a wind that blows through the trees, and the

Forest breathes with me --

Quiet in wet, thick sound.

Leaves mush, crunch, and crumple as I turn,

The only clue I’m not actually of the Forest itself --

For I have my mind, my heart even further in the distance --

The keenest part of archer’s Sight.

So with no notice at all,

I Dart.

Bolt.

Run and race through this thick terrain with deftness and courage unmatched --

Always keeping the Target in Sight.

Dark Woods

But sometimes I’m wide-eyed and alone in a

Terribly dark, dead wood.

The path is there ahead,

Illuminated even,

But when I jolt in I’m frozen, scared,

Standing petrifyingly still in this purple-darkness --

Through which I can see…

So there’s no need to be scared, right?

I take a step, but…

But I don’t even know where I’m going. I look around at the trees, dead and bare and

I don’t even know what I’m doing there --

A crack behind forces me forward,

But, no!

Why am I so alone? Why is it so cold and windy and dark?

There were supposed to be good things, warm things.

Friendships and fires, and power in love

But now I’m just lost, and

Alone and defenseless as my body presses forward on this path against my will --

I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t ask for this.

But another crack in the edge ahead -- and

Questions and pities are left luxuries for softer places.

A haunting, Hooded Figure manifests its form and

Presents itself from the shadows of the once-wood.

A chilled wind grips and grows crisp.

He creeps slow,

Stalks close, and

Demands a choice.

Do I really see in the dark?

Courtyard Castle

Soft cream rocks clack and echo as I stride down the open Castle Corridor.

My dark emerald cape soars and flaps behind,

And there’s Magic in the walls.

Embedded in the ceiling above,

Beautiful, flashing Crystals Light the way and

Pulse around old, worn carvings.

I can feel small-wired glasses on my face,

Hair that’s grey and brown -- thin but present -- and my cloak

Swallows wrists with each passing flick.

The Matter is Urgent.

With no soul in sight, I pass through a forgotten archway

Into the Courtyard --

Changed and Unchanged -- Everlasting.

Full bushes of tiny berries share soil in clusters along the walls,

Giving a Peculiar sense of Intimacy in this otherwise bustling Castle.

Vines with brightly colored flowers snake and grow across ground and benches

Before wrapping themselves in delicately intricate patterns around the basin

Of a Well in the center of the Yard.

Inside, the Water shifts from clear to black and back again.

Tiny shimmers on the water’s edge flash and glow in their

Gentle movement --

A Bulbous Gem protrudes, and emanates a powerful,

Bright gold-green.

Ready to receive.

I kneel at the edge, lower my head,

Open my palms, and close my eyes.

“So, I see you’ve come again.”

The Boardroom

They never see it coming.

Not while they’re driving.

Not while they’re sleeping. Not on the streets while they’re walking

With passing head nods and ‘thank yous’ --

They never see me coming.

Strutting down a cement sidewalk, my eyes locked ahead --

Each passing Snap of Heel on Stone surges Power through my Veins,

And Seafoam laps at my feet.

Everywhere I step, cackling foam appears and seeps from the bottom of my soles,

Only to bubble and disappear as I’m onto the next --

There’s a stronger force at will behind.

I push through a crystal, glass door of an

84 story, crystal, glass building, and

the Wave trails, begins to swell,

And builds in thick layers inches from the closing gap of glass.

The receptionist inside fumbles with my approach, yet

I need no direction.

The 84th floor board room is filled with white men,

And I’m not who they expect.

Bits of foam soak into the short, grey carpet as

I lock down the conjoined Monster’s Soul from

Head of the Table.

“Gentlemen. It’s time,”

Puddles of water emerge from below --

Cover the floor and soak their precious shoes while

Quiet mummers turn desperate gasps --

“And so now, you must make a choice.”

A Shadow grips the room, and

An 86 Story Wave Rises,

Threatening uncomfortably close.

Shadows turn Fear and chokes them each in turn,

“Simply get out of the way, or die.”

Conclusions

These Visions are Ever-Present.

Locked away somewhere in Space and Time, but

accessible the instant they’re called forth,

And there’s Power in that.

For somewhere, some place in Time and Space,

The Tales are True.

The versions of Self, the Places, the Every-Day,

Extraordinarily Amazing Events and Tasks,

Somewhere, they’re all True.

Playing a Looped Moment in Time.

So when the Vision’s over, and

The Bird’s Flown Far Away

It never truly Dies.

There’s an Essence in the Language of the Mission --

Which begs neither Favor nor Hate,

Only enchants in crystal pulses of light, and

Clusters as Waves at the Door,

To Scream in the loudest possible Voice

“Sit Still and Be Quiet,”

“Sit Still, and be Quiet.”

At least for Now.

Because Visions aren’t just for the Watching.

They’re for the Knowing, the Doing,

The Ever-Incorporating --

For the Experience of Divine through the Human Mind

And Isn’t it So,

So Goddamn Wonderful and Complete

Not to need a Body?