You Are Going Home — Part 04
You row your boat for several hours.
The absence of light is present.
And, then, as those last few hours pass, you see a light.
A faint, white light.
You row and row, until you reach the source of this light.
A series of crystals, rooted to the top of the cave, emanating a rich sea of illumination.
You follow the crystals and their light.
You pass through water and rock.
Eventually, you reach a small patch of rocky crag.
You step onto this rocky crag and walk over to an opening, buried within the rock wall.
You get down and crawl through the opening.
A Brief Encounter
You crawl through the opening.
Cramped and closed, yet open and spacious.
You crawl and crawl.
A collage of blue and green can be seen in the distance.
You crawl closer to this collage.
And, right before you step into the emanations erupting from this collage, you hear a sound.
A sound sculpted from water and waves. A sound sculpted from change and transformation.
You can taste this sound.
The sound is light and creamy; rich and fluffy.
And, yet, there is something so very rich and tangible about it.
You allow yourself to enjoy this sound.
And, as you enjoy this sound, you crawl closer and closer to the opening from which this collage pours through.
Right within these moments of enjoyment, you reach the opening and go through it.
Your Own, Personal Collage
You are in a space.
A space rich with color and vitality.
A wealth of sights and smells flow into you.
You see flowers rich with purple and blue hues.
You see trees made of gray and crimson bark.
You see vines grown from black and white formations.
And, then, you see walls sculpted from glass and steel.
Everything within this space says “Outside.”
And, yet, you know that you are not outside.
You are inside.
You are inside a space known to you.
No, that is not true: this particular space is unknown to you, but the type of space this happens to be is known to you.
You are standing within an arcology.
A work of architecture that exists as an ecology.
You allow yourself to recognize this knowing.
And, then, within the moments that follow, you walk through the arcology.
You step across mud and water and flowers and vines.
Every step you take allows you to enjoy the richness of this collage.
You can enjoy this collage.
You can live within this collage.
And, yet, that is not what you wish to do.
You continue to walk and walk, in search of a doorway.
A doorway to the space in which you wish to go.
The space in which you are meant to be.
A Silver Door
You walk and walk.
Eventually, you see a tree.
A tree sculpted from silver.
Silver branches. Silver bark. Silver leaves.
Right within the center of this tree, there is an opening.
You walk through this opening.
On the outside, there is nothing.
But, on the inside, there is a faint glimmer.
A faint glimmer that serves as a painting.
The painting unfolds the entire space.
Your vision is encased within the painting.
Or, perhaps, the painting is encased within your vision.
You surrender to the painting.
And, within the moments that enfold from this act of surrender, a sea sways over you.
But, this is no ordinary sea: this is a sea of clear, blue water and palm trees and sandy beaches.
You allow yourself to drown within this sea.
You are falling and falling.
Right within this falling and falling, you are growing and awakening.
And, when these moments pass away — as you know, within your heart of hearts, that they must — you awaken.
You awaken to the blue sky shining right in front of you.
You look to your left and see a beach.
A beach with no ending
You look to your right and see a beach.
A beach with no ending.
You stand up and look around.
Clear, blue water; the ebb and flow of the Asima Samudra Kalpana herself.
Palm trees; swaying with the wind and moving with the universe.
Sand crabs; existing and being, serving more than a purpose and as more than a force.
And, right behind you?
A new life. A new world.
A new you.
You are home, my friend.
You are home.
