Scene 22
As Narrator, I will transcribe Aeneas’s short but memorable dream. The reader can make of it what she-or-he may. This is not what he memorized, but this is the dream as it was. Imagination took hold along the way and though Dead, Aeneas is still humanly open to error. His reasoning attempted to put together Apollo’s dancing quantum minds. Aeneas’s conclusion made bounding leaps. Here is the actual dream.
Walking out the south door of Our Mother’s private quarters, I, Aeneas, follow a narrow flower and rock lined path between the great circles of stones between Mother’s home and the city. The higher inner stone hinge-like lintels have a diameter of some fifty feet in the inner bluestone ring. This area is sky covered by a central massive tree whose lower branches are the diameter of many a human torso.
Other lesser though still massive branches higher up are the thicknesses of the length of human legs from hip joint to toe-tip and above these branches they are the thicknesses of a human arm from shoulder socket out to fingertip. This giant tree is as ageless as the human spirit. Upward and outwardly dark woody branches shower down a canopy of leaves over and above, shadowing each of the three circles of stones, providing a strange root-like roof of knots and limbs burrowed into more even odder limbs, each propping up the next set of higher limbs that are more than a human fore-arm’s diameter in thickness.
‘Notice. ." says our Mother at the south entrance, " I am sitting thirty feet up on a lower tree limb on the path to the Stone Circle. My family is dressed in similar attire as I, with loose collarless, split-neck linen tunics with baggy seated wool trousers below, all tied with a rope belt. Toes covered with leather –like sandals or slippers. Are you not satisfied, Aeneas?”
Before he can answer, she responds, “I am Mother then, and children together, simple and naked dressed in a comfortable linen of quantum laced skin.”
I, Aeneas, glance at the Greek temple on each side of Eleusis Street and on south. One Doric column holding each corner of the temples with a mathematical rote of other columns between. These lead south on to the columns of the arcade, a market place for the gatherings of personalities.
Our limited group of five leaders steps out of cadence onto the gray marble walkway at the temple and by the end of the first block of the arcade I am aware on the right side of the street as we march, that the city block contains thirty-seven columns, fifteen feet high. Each city block is approximately 484 feet long with an eight to twelve foot grassy lane between each of the eighteen blocks.
A mirror image of temple, columns, and arcade stand on the opposite side of Eleusis Street that leads down to the River. Groups of people meander about or sit on benches minding their own private business.
I am continually amazed at the power of the collective human mind of this ten thousand as we march, arrow-like, into the targeted crossroad of Lyceum and Eleusis Streets.
Our small congress of ten thousand passes through noticed, but not extraordinarily so. Our spirited bodies, each with a unique mix of human heart and soul, make up the common humanity of all. We are a human citadel of continuity . . . alas, I dream . . this and all other matters will sink deeply before they rise up as one voice declaring . . .
Thus, this peculiar dream ends abruptly with a single motion of the Hand.
Aeneas awakes thinking sharply, what? What dream voice? What dream voice declaring what?
Scene 23
Thales found himself groggily listening to the sky in his late morning bed. I am in a studied deep sleep stupor, he fancied. Yet I was up earlier with aromas and tastes of a breakfast of fruit, bread and cheese. I dreamt of the stone circle at Eleusis Street’s north end and also unimaginatively at the street’s south end, the Styx, at the same time. The river, the grand divide, pleads forthwith, “No more, no more.” The lightning shooting across our Mother’s brow, like the river’s far horizon, is measured only in silence. This weird dream is as an omen too late received. A cornerstone of our questions break into pieces and fly to who knows where.
“Good morning, again,” interrupted Kassandra. “I fear we will have lost this coming demonstration into battle by noon.”
Thales foggily questioned’ “Kassandra, how are you here? I am not yet fully awake.”
“We four are here,” commented Mario from behind. “We await the joint meeting with Aeneas and Sophia.”
“Salaman, you too? I did not see you,” rattled Thales.
“You did not look, Thales,” commented Salaman wearily from his sitting place on the dirt floor. “A move has been made, Thales, but we do not know what it is.”
“What? By the Supervisor? Today?”
“We do not know,” replied Kassandra. “Aeneas does not know. He had a dream.”
“A dream? We all have dreams,” countered Thales. I had one myself just moments ago – about our Mother and the stone circles.”
“Aeneas mentioned the stone circles in his own dream,” whispered Salaman to Marios, who then pointedly said to Thales, “I saw Aeneas first. He mentioned the stone circles, that was the first thing he mentioned, the old tree within the stone circles.”
“It may have an added meaning,” suggested Kassandra. “But who was it sent by?”
Sophia will know,” uttered Marios reasonably. “No more speculation.”
The four were taken to heart while their imaginations fed until the door opened and Sophia entered, surprisingly alone.
Sophia, with her lush over-the-shoulders auburn hair appears almost as striking as the image of a full-bodied Aphrodite. She thinks, this is a way, as she walks into Thales’s privacy chamber thinking, our spirit-world is about to change whether we five are the common instigators or not. We must continue to participate in this demonstration as we are built for it. I feel, that we can influence the Living, that we, that can help the Living rise up, and that alone will be worth our fall if it comes to that.” With the word fall her words fell into an abyss and a new thought just as sudden rose from her secret depression
.
With strong determination and personal will, Sophia declared, “We must find a way to reach out and build a bridge to the Living.” She could sense the endless questioning in their eyes. Sophia said, “The gods have intervened. Events here and now are not controlled by steering a rudder but rather by hoisting the sail or dropping it down at opportune moments. This Rebellion has already begun and the Supervisor has already made her first and second move.”
The End of Chapter One
of the fourth book in the Merlyn’s Mind series
©2009 Richard H. Orndorff
No comments:
Post a Comment