Mid-afternoon. So far, a day of naps interlaced with the caring and playing with Owen who is now succumbed to a second nap of the day for himself. The television is off and library quiet has harbored itself within the Paik household.
I need to acclimate to the mental slowdown.
You three watched ‘24’ and DVRed Castle and CSI for tomorrow. Carol, Kim and Owen are in bed and the house is again quiet. Let’s see what we can get done.
Scene 11
Takis took note of Mario and Aeneas sitting solemnly cross-legged but with eager anticipation in eyes that did not reflect light on the bank of the River Styx close to where he first met the two not long before. Time twinkled in his own eyes as they drew themselves up within the outer appearance of his skull. ‘Neither Here nor There surround the thought pool of nowhere.’
Without so much as a thought by Takis, the soul’s spinning axis is felt in the core stem of Takis’s mind. The soul immerges as a full spinning globe as an unorthodox soul-like atmospheric energy is released in his lower non-mass of middle body.
A nymph’s light, thought Aeneas at first. Takis is cut in half by a thin horizontal blade of light which is slowly upward full turning into a small replica of the moon in the sky. His head is becoming a spinning moon-world of light above and his lower torso and legs a spinning moon-world of light below. Three small independently spinning she-moon-deities have eaten or taken Takis’s human form.
Mario analytically observes Takis’ once head-shape, a full moon circle, moves more slowly to the right while his mid-chest full moon circle moves quickly to the left. Below, Takis’s lower full moon circle spins more slowly than the middle but faster than the once head. The faster the spin the brighter the three global lights. The spectrum dances strangely without rhythm across each of the disks, until – violet to blue to green to yellow to orange to red to black to violet to blue to green to yellow to orange to red to black to . . . .
At once a dance of three vertical balls of light centered in a circle of twelve independent vertical balls of three around Takis who is centered, or seemingly it is Takis centered. Neither Mario or Aeneas can understand the dancing ever changing disks of light, circling first to the left, then to the right, the in a spin of the three lit balls of twelve. Thirty-nine identically sized and shaped balls all spinning in thirty-nine separate directions at thirty-nine separate rates of speeds. Mario’s mind jumped: a spinning stone circle with a center stone axis. Light. And, for once in their time being Dead, each, Mario and Aeneas, cast an eerie green and ghostly shadow that caused their heartsansoulsanminds to sense a heaviness, a weight.
Circles of thirteen identities in thirty-nine dancing lights over the River Styx and another Light enters with wall-less shadows churning and painting a starless tent over the River and both its shores. The lesser, the thirty-nine dancing lights flicker and disappear into such a shadowed enclosure. And from such a darkness a small speck, a needle prick of a light appears and draws in the weight of real, imaginary, and invisible worlds. Were not so dark with freedom between an individual’s heart and soul and mind the Unsupervised Light would glow unnoticed.
Unknown, the Supervisor pulled what modern humans might call a magical hat trick beneath the stage of gravity and all its darkly material attractions. It was nothing of the sort of course. In the seed of a quantum tangle of all realities is imagination. Separating imagination from reality is like separating an individual’s heartansoulanmind, and therein lies the contrivance, the automaticity, built into the Supervisor HeranHis self.
Interfaced within the minutely lit outer darkness forms maneuvered within the multi-wheeling minds of Mario and Aeneas fire shot upward and downward in the center of an instant in being Dead. The voice of the dreamer became the silence of dream. Whole drops the W and what IS, IS NOT. Those who say they know, know nothing. Those who know nothing bask in an interlude of understanding through their lack of knowledge.
In less than the blink of an eye neither man had, a lull, a lack, formed a refreshed library in their minds. Study developed into a new meaning of experience. As Mario and Aeneas calmly observed, the still quiet waters of the River Styx lay out beyond the mid-afternoon shore as usual. The dancing lights had disappeared, night and day also disappeared. Unknowingly, Mario and Aeneas had died for a second time and neither could begin to understand the consequence.
The original twelve shamans however, the dancers who understood the consequence, had quietly returned to who they had always been in life and death. Ishtar, a woman from Assyria; Enki a high priest from Babylonia; Jun from China; Amenhotep from Egypt; Amrita, a woman from India; Teja of the Indo-Europeans; Meir from Israel; Kagami, a woman from Japan; B’alam from the Central American Olmec; Tiwanaku from High Peru; Dido, a woman from Phoenicia; and Mother’s first, Panagiotakis from pre-ancient Greece. The meanings of the Shamans’ given names in no particular order are: Truth; Holy; Glow; Light; Pharaoh; Immortality; Virgin; Lord; Star; Mirror; Jaguar; and Center-Stone. This witnessing and understanding of Mario and Aeneas was silently addressed and taken back to Mother for her perusal.
***
No comments:
Post a Comment