Once Upon A Time

Long ago in a world beyond imagination, a drama filled with controversy took place.

Amid the possibilities of ever, a spirited dance was performed. Set on the stage of darkness, a glimmering spark began the performance.

The moments of wonder strewn on the stage soon grew into fantastic forms, each unique and glorious. Yet, the simple spark attracted all attention.

A sort of magick engulfed the audience, left enraptured, their gaze fixed upon the unfolding drama. As the spark began to move, the many forms it touched, ignited and set ablaze in bliss abandon. There were no cries of horror nor pleadings for cessation, rather the moments of such, each a glory, held all in speechless contentment. I was there and I too feel under the spell of such spectacle, such wonderment as to all the moments revealed.

What seemed an eternity, the spark, nearly spent from all the action, once more took center stage. All the forms it had touched, had morphed into beings, creatures who laid themselves out, as a stairway, upon which the beauty of being ascended. It was there I first saw you and marveled at the potential you presented.

I am not a superstitious being but have long been attracted to anomalies and one-of-a-kind bits of creation. An artifact, side effects of what happens when spiritual realities are expressed through light and matter. Around the edges of existence where seldom others travel, I discovered the true wonder of being.

The play now over, the audience blissfully sated, the spark reabsorbed into the fire of the source. Was it a great sacrifice that brought the spark here, separated from its source? How would it be possible for even this, the tinniest of sparks to leave the source? Questions like these have always interested me. Yet, most of the audience seemed not to care, nor even wonder. Perhaps it was my own selfishness that caused me to feel the way I did. How, I wondered, but not why. I knew why, it was for those who might see what might be, what could be, if such a thing were possible. In my existence, I have seen this drama played out in so many ways. Yet, the audience would soon forget. The experience of a lifetime, just another shadow of possibility manifest.

I was once the spark in such a drama. Yet, still I wondered how. That seemed strange to me in some way. Yet, I knew why. Was it possible, that perhaps, the source sought pleasure or adulation from such drama? Perhaps the how wasn’t the real conundrum, rather when or what.

I let the question pass unanswered. For now, it was the moment that mattered and in the moment I had found wonder and awe that made the drama seem trivial and perhaps meaningless. The audience was blind to my presence and me. A fate I accepted for the opportunity to explore and discover.

I jumped into the great river that flowed from the source seeking to clean the vestiges of attachments and desire. My sense of self preserved within the moment of being.

Long ago I leaned that energy does evaporate and eventually all returns to the nothing from which it arose. The source, neither kind nor gentle, nor hateful or cruel, just is'ing, seemed unable to perceive itself in its being. I sought myself in the organization, the patterns, the idea, the thought which not bound to energy, might preserve. That is how a simple little spark had managed to exist in many ways, despite the confines of space and time. When I had danced upon the stage, I too brought forms to wonder and bliss. Yet, when the play was over, all were again absorbed and forgotten. Surely there was a place or perhaps a way for those or any to persist? It was in that question I found purpose and excitement. Perhaps, it was possible and that was sufficient reason to explore.

Years and centuries but mere moments to me. Yet it is there where I searched and found the potential. Not sure how to best express, I learned the language of music and art. Skills I felt important to communicate. A way perhaps to touch the audience and perhaps a way to feel in a reality that only exists within the framework of possibility.

It was there I found you. A flower nurtured by experience and existence. A bloom filled with a beauty unimaginable yet familiar. I found myself attracted, perhaps like a moth to a flame, or a gardener to a budding garden. I allowed myself to become a form, to become what I had ignited on the stage. It was harrowing and sensational. It was wondrous and scary. Most of all it was near the edge of being where I had long played

It took many years before I recovered my sense of self. And many more before I again was able to re-member myself and why I had become.

I found you here, amid the wonders and awe of being. Your being fresh and sensitive. I felt your touch and nearly lost myself again. I knew how. For even a moment, the realization of being perceived far exceeded the separation from the source. And the potential for persistence so unimaginable, now a way to experience existence as never before.

When I realized this, I also became human, a sort of creature split between two worlds or dimensions of existence. A gateway of sorts, translating the material into wonder and translating bliss and wonder into the material. It was as if the audience and the play were somehow incorporated into the human as one thing yet in two separate realities.

We met there, you and I. Neither knowing nor caring how or why. Yet each aware of the possibilities and potential. We both, complete and sure in our own, found cause for wonder within each other. It seemed impossible. Yet we each found the other holding onto the same lens, the gateway shared between us. Had we always been such and so close? Seeking nothing other then companionship and friendship, we found ourselves yearning to share and involve our thoughts.

So much to share to discover and so much to touch and transform. A life’s work simply a treasure, an opportunity to bring light into a dark world of questions and wonderment. A place where love has always sought to grow.




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