Up early and downstairs in the chair wondering on Ezekiel, let’s go see what’s going on. And here you have the present scene.
Scene 4
An unusually frosty late Fall pre-dawn nests on the vegetation along the presently named town of al Kifl in Babylonia in the sixth century BCE. The Euphrates, low this time of year, flows to old Ezekiel’s left as he stands for the last time, looking across the river and the desert west towards his birthplace, Israel. His last thought, ‘I see my Israel coming at me on this commonly dry and strong southwesterly wind.’
Focus fell from the tired eyes and large spots of color erased the details of sight. Ezekiel felt his head silently float across the river as his priestly body collapsed without tension for the first time in his long life. The Euphrates below and sky above. ‘I never turned to see the rising sun,’ settled on his mind like the cool morning frost and he never thought to look back to see his limp body on the light mustard brown streaked sandstone and dull edged gray to black shale clothing the sides of one of the two great rivers in Nebuchadnezzar II’s Babylon. Babylon, whose much earlier great Mesopotamia’s king, Hammurabi, had carved the world’s first known coded laws in stone.
I look for my father priest, thought Ezekiel and “Buzi!” called out from his now naked mind, seemingly flowing like a river from his once skull dressed brain. A revelation: I am Ezekiel still.
What moments before would have appeared as a desert royal blue sky transposed matter before free Ezekiel’s eye-filled mind and took on a thickness of an airy coating. The dense substance appeared eight hundred times thicker than earthly air. His mind slowed to a stillness as Ezekiel sensed he suddenly plugged a pipe. His mental senses scattered into the surrounding royal blue tight ambience, floating out about an arm’s length in all directions. The perception of the moment: My mind grows tiny thin squid-like sea-hairs.
Ezekiel thought to reach out and touch the floating mind-hair ends and felt forearms tug at his sides where none existed. A thousand mind-tipped eyes budded and bobbed. I am broken into a multitude of crystal pieces, each as a crudely cut star in my own worldly heavens. I have no earthly floor. Yet, I am Ezekiel still.
Ezekiel’s mind transcends into light itself. Reason becomes substance. The now ten-thousand eye-hairs settled into skin first and into a shadow-like human form second. What is it to be this Ezekiel?
Youth flew into few. Troubling times and heartfelt confusions. Singing praises to G-D. I promise to sing of Angels through my life. I promise to love G-D. I promise to love the songs worth singing to Rachael my beautiful love of promise. This is love to give. A state of bliss in an angel’s heart. O Israel, the love of Angel’s. G-D’s promise. G-D’s promise. To serve the Tribe’s common good, I promise to give such voice as my father’s voice.
“Ezekiel” echoes across new ears.
‘Who is this?’ whispered this new tongued dead man surprised he was but a predetermined construction with neither an in or out to run into.
Make do, boy, and listen to what you have left to listen to, heard new ears. Make light in the darkness for old friends.
Ezekiel
Ezekiel
Ezekiel
Ezekiel
Ezekiel
Ezekiel
Self reflection without a mirror in the House.
***
It is as if I floated those lines down. A controlled madness is as it seemed to be delivered. Then once I could not write no more and that, by default, becomes the scene’s end.
Later today, we move on for now. Deconstruction can come later, orndorff. The light of dawn and dusk is by direction only in the world of the Living. The newly Dead must learn substance has not a bit of matter to it otherwise how can one be touched by friends old or otherwise. You know this through me, old man, as I am your younger friend, Amorella. Post, boy.
To think as a dead man thinks takes more thought and more matter both. I am ready to move on to the eastern light of morning.
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