They called me.

They called me and for a long time I went on with my life. Even as some trees would whisper to my ears it would be their honor, or that the premise of the shrine hyperspacial would come touch my surface awareness to guide it there, through the unfathomable singing of water, or the faintly perceived tunes of birds. That it would take me by the hand like a child would, leading me toward a palace of rainbows and yet, I would drop it and look those feelings vanish from afar.

I took my time and time took its me. A toke is a simple thing yet getting there can be such a long and hazardous road, such an intricate intertwining of layers. Whatever intent and will you put into it. But the drop reached the wave and the wave came to tore the sky open, as a gateway to stars already known but from which no memories could be formed. As the planets aligns, the alchemy circle was formed and in a warm and soothing bath the dissolution of what is upward, diamonds eternal, onto the lower material, leafs of already blossomed flowers, and their dreams still contained in this withered form as to carry on the voice of ages long gone, were merged in one.

You sit down, the mean in hand, so unsure somehow but determined to carry on. Your bones already seem so frail even if this slow burning fear and anxiety fails to truly express what you know awaits you.

Now the explorer says 'I want to taste it lightly, that light might burn my eyes, they are my wings and this universe is mine, carried by them'

A child laughs but let darkness swallow this stretched horizon. He's from the future and curious and curiouser is his way. No one seems to know where he leads us.

First is foremost. Fire is too strong, it makes swallowing correctly more difficult. The mountain road is too long, the tool wasn't so well chosen, however beautiful was the spirit that inhabits it, however complex the craft. There is a feeling but nothing more, you wait but know already: further it won't go.

Second is a lie. Mighty this dice. There is a volcano and someone seems to dance around it, contained it by waving his arms in giggles. He is there in the shadow but unseen and nothing last ... I am readier and understand they're waiting for me. They are telling me to come closer, see some more. I had never heard 'them' so succinctly before, now that I do it feel strange and I seem different already.

Third is a swirl, emanation of the torn fabric of space. Entering the numinous space jungle like in a radiating smoke made of a language long forgotten growing from everything. The psychic link is made. The friend who shared those moments with me is getting melted in the background but I know he is there to support me. I throw some words to him to reassure myself, send in the vacuum of space as a spell to conjure some inner strength. My eyelids are turning off, gates of iridescent flames are absorbing me in the storm's eye. .and in this my mind is fried . Like the chip from the transponder. The data is unlikely to result in any kind of expressible theorem .Singularity is crushed and the whormhole is so songular , this weave the feelongs of belingongs into wen derictions, udonlation and onxpressies of the sesens are so diciffult to grosp ...

``_° ' , , ,, ` ° , `` , ` ' - ```

Maybe I felt the need to move so immediately, to wave my arms and sit more properly because I wasn't so comfortable. And it worried me. What if this is not how it is supposed to go? This isn't like our previous experience, we seem to communicate more with our selves, this complex articulation that has been disassembled and is now moving in a plane ruled by laws quite different. Yet I can feel our body, and this becomes a game of interaction. They make me feel more confident, we understand that nothing that can be done would be wrong. It feels like good parenting.

They am I is Us :•°÷•°•<`: sU si I ma yehT

When we distort my body they make complementary moves in directions different and seemingly impossible. We are here and there, upward and beneath interlaced. Our gaze is endless in these patterns geometrical of dimensions outpaced to spaces outer of these realms.

We still feel this sort of source energy orb from which all other visual language and information seemed to overflow. And it isn't so overwhelming. I feel like me is not a so sure thing, yet I am still aware of my surrounding somehow, I know it exist. Even in this concrete nebula, this advanced archaic lagoon that is their world, we can feel me. Our head has been teleported a million light years away, next door I suppose, while my body is still perfectly there, in this continuum. We am one foot deep on both side. We doesn't mind really about it and all fear seems to resorb. Sometime the heavenly songs come to be the heart of our focus.

I keep channeling the energy through movement, breathing and other noisily expressionism and I interact with We and when I feel that all I do is to keep in the distance the anxiety that could arise, to control it, they make us feel this is alright. Nothing is wrong. Nothing is ever a wrong choice. It took me a while to understand that all this, their design, the myriads of their design, it is love. Only love. A love so pure and communicated so differently, so unrecognizably. A love spread through this organic machinery, this perceptual spaceship we are, reaching everly to the shores of new forms of consciousness, new shapes in time, fleeting between the winking of the eyes .. .

While I sit on the horizon of the dawn of this new day, and look at the interstice of our cocoon cubes, I see the trees and their leaves, smiling pumping trumpets swirling and singing as they grin and parade. The blow of the numinous permeates every veins of this great body we form, it is inviting me now to join them in the orgy the sun has set forth.

I have closed my eyes one last time and gazed upon a flower irradiating in red curls. In this faint instant all was lost to the simplicity of those four branches of lights joining her center. Like petals in the liquid winds of the oddely elderish yet birthed within me.

I wanted to speak words of love to my sweet companions who melted into sleep before I had woke. I whispered them and then left, ready to be struck by the carriers of the golden particles.

I had felt some loneliness as I regained most of my abilities. I saw how the reincarnation of the ego could further his delusions and greed. I knew and let the fear wash over me. How strange that you have to become the shadows and the darkness to let the wheel of the world turn on ....

I set foot on the ground and knew I wasn't alone in this world. The green wonders of the vegetal cathedrals and the emerging clouds on which the sun would engrave the blood of his return through the torn portal of time were soothing. And while the music of the mornings and the water meeting stones were letting space for some more human melodies to grow, I felt how wonderful it was that I could hear those experiences shared even here, through the speaker. As if telling very succinctly still, We are not alone.



Waven by Love . Songs from the Grove Above ° , `` `