Pando - The Trembling Giant
A lot was happening in the 8th millinneum. Ours is not the first global warming. In 8,000 BC glaciers were melting, and oceans rising. Homo-sapiens flourished in this new environ, with many groups transitioning from hunter-gatherers to agriculture. Their success was so great as to push their rivals, Neanderthal and Homo eructus into extinction, but the Fertile Crescent is not where our story takes place. Ours is the incredible tale of a life that has spanned the age of man.
It was at this same time, away across the globe, that a wildfire happened on the side of a mountain in what is now Utah. After the fire, in the scorched and barren earth that remained, a seed was dropped by a clueless deer in the usual way. This seed was not extraordinary as far as seeds go. It only did what every seed does; it created a miracle, this miracle being an aspen tree, a Quaking Aspen, to be exact, named for the way it’s leaves tremble in even the slightest breath of wind.
This aspen did what any aspen would do; it grew straight, and tall... but not deep. Instead it’s roots spread outward, rarely burrowing more than 15″ below the surface. And from these roots came shoots, which created new trees, and more roots with even more trees, until soon the burn became an entire meadow of beautiful, light green shoots stretching themselves up the hillside, and towards the sun.
As these shoots grew they became a grove. The grove thinned and pruned itself as it grew, selecting the healthiest shoots to continue growing upward while also remaining a part of the root system created from our first, lonely aspen tree. But with all of that, this grove of aspens remains a single organism, a root system growing underground with it’s lungs breathing above. Hundress and thousands of trees have come and gone through the years, including that first one, but the root mass continued growing through it all, and continued creating new shoots, and it continued to thrive through all manners of goings on across the globe, floods, freezes... and even fires.
More than one hundred times through the milinnia the grove has burned, but the roots survived underground. And after each of those one hundred times, with the cooling of the earth new shoots appear, and new meadows of light green, and finally new clone trees picked and positioned just so, so as to further the survival of the grove.
For eighty-thousand years now this single grove, the largest living being on the planet, has sent oxygen into the air, and steadied the slopes of a mountain. It has given it’s bark to a million deer and bear and other hungry creatures when snows cover the grass. It’s limbs are home to birds, raccoons, squirrels, and spiders, it’s flesh to beetles, borers, and their larvae. The old man has died a thousand deaths, but still it lives, and breathes, and grows.
And when families drive past on Highway 25, they might comment on the pretty patch of lighter green shimmering amongst the darker conifers, or they might not notice it at all.
You wish away
The ticking time,
Your working life,
Your daily grime.
No job as it was billed
You're wishing time away
Until your dying day -
When you will wish it back again.
I’ll run away
Find what’s meant for me
Not now in May
I’ll live my dream
It'll be better than to you it might seem
Seen Through Portal
I was taken aback...
Seen through a crack
Whatever the word
my dearest Darling of the Ethers,
curling casually like a cat
upon a post...
Drink from the diamond rig,
and lend a hiccup to your throat
that brings the mildest milquetoast
a premature ejaculate...
He’s in need, and so are severed
dandelion heads, that are discovered
In great abundance ’round your nimble toes,
And scattered haphazardly at the foot
of the throne of some undeserving
child king who’s tantrum’s never ceased...
Staring with longing into this crease
I felt a tickle of a sneeze come on...
Should I assume the worst,
or let it run its inevitable course?...
A trickling stream is heard beyond my
periphery, and all the diving birds
crash and burn like suicide bombers,
opening and closing wings frantically like the
hungry tongues of fiery book pages snapping
at my throat in a state of seizure
like crocs posing at the Florida beach
begging to be photographed for a laugh
by a cheeky male tourist
in tight bermuda shorts
that show his protuberance and tells a tale
Of testicle strangulation...
It’s all perfectly arranged
beforehand for the cameras.
Sunlight warms my face.
Vibrant grass, fresh air, blue skies,
refresh tired eyes.
I’m trying my best to do things differently now.
I’ve done a lot of healing, growing and learning along the way.
It’s taken so long to get to this place.
The hardest part and I suppose what I’m currently trying to master are the triggers from past experiences.
I know they’re coming, especially after a period of bliss.
After the feeling that everything is finally falling into place has filled my heart and mind and my vibration is high.
I can feel it begin to descend, so I should expect their arrival, yet the triggers still make their way inside.
I must say, I have gotten better at dealing with them.
I ask myself, “What’s the reality of this?” and I can usually identify the truth vs. an old wound that’s bleeding again.
So I meditate, ground and cleanse.
It helps to stop the bleeding and refocus my mind.
It also reminds me that what’s meant for me will alway come to me in time.
Divine white light pours down into the crown of my head, filling me with all that I need.
I can feel it tingle as it drifts into the space between my eyes and transform into royal violet before it begins spinning.
The violet spinning light expands in all directions as it begins its spiraling decent past my nose and chin before blending into indigo just as it reaches my throat.
Indigo rays spin around my neck creating a necklace of freedom loosing the tension I was carrying in my shoulders.
Ocean colored waves then wash beneath my shoulder blades flowing directly into my heart causing an explosion of glowing emerald light that shoots love from between my breast.
A trail of green satin gently hugs my ribs before making its way to the bright sun that has now risen inside my core, illuminating all that surrounds me.
The bright yellow sun then begins to sink down below my navel still protruding its rays in all directions as they turn intense orange.
Finding warmth and solace the orange glow begins to dip into my pelvis as it ignites in to fiery red cleansing me of all I no longer need.
The spiraling continues until it has met its end, where it combusts and shoots a bright ruby lightening bolt from the base of my spine penetrating the earth below.
I become a kaleidoscope colors that race back up my body until it reaches the divine white light entering my crown, where it then slowly drips back down my body like melting crayons.
I feel calm, balanced and completely at peace with myself and all that surrounds me and I know that I am...GROUNDED.
Quietly & Patiently
In the heart of the cave, they slowly made their way toward the iridescent waters. They stopped to gaze in awe at the beautiful colour shining forth from the silent waters.
The leader of the crew grinned. It would soon be time for the reaping.
The rest of the crew stood side by side, ready to just enjoy the splendor of the wonders that were in the heart of the cave.
One of the folks in the crew looked back to check if the little girl was not too far behind. She wasn’t there.
The guy pushed folks to the side, trying to reach the leader and also check to see if she was maybe trying to only hide in the small crowd. When he traced the leader he asked him if he had spotted the little girl.
He shook his head and said, ‘‘We left all the children with their mothers at the camp. Only ones here are the men.’’
The guy tried to speak, but words failed to escape his mouth. He panicked the moment he saw the leader’s reflection in the waters. The little girl winked at him.
He stumbled backward and fell on his derrière. Waving his hands back and forth, then almost crawling at full speed to escape from the heart of the cave.
The only thing he heard was the sound of the deafening screams of the remaining crew. He turned around to look back— nothing- was it all in his head?
As soon as he turned his head back, the last thing he saw was a burst of light. The little girl was now in front of him!
She was in another form~ charging toward him as a beast with shark like teeth and wolverine type claws. He felt as if his heart was burning at that point.
The moment he was about to let out a scream, the girl slashed her claws across his neck. His head slid off his body with his eyes still open wide. The terror he felt could still be seen on his face.
14/04/2021 (c) #Quietly&Patiently
The train lurches forward as though it is exhausted, worn out by loud conversation and dirt stained shoes shuffling along its floors, by the stenches of alcohol and cigarette smoke that keep its passengers company and the texter marks scribbled on its walls and the old chewing gum plastered on the backs of its seats
A young university student gave up his place by the window for a middle aged lady who didn’t think to give just a single, “thank you,” or nod of acknowledgement and now he stands staring out at the last rays of sunlight reflected on the flashy tiles covering apartment buildings with tired eyes
The little boy trying to demonstrate his gaming skills on a phone with a cracked screen pesters “Mummy, Mummy,” in an effort to gain his distracted mother’s attention; the teenage girl nods her head to a beat only she can hear
The young woman with plump red lips and long fake lashes and tears inside her eyes just waiting to fall texts “I’m fine” to an internet boyfriend she’ll never meet
While the hippie with Love tattooed on both arms swears loudly at his tangled earplug chords, the woman with cut lip and a colourful bruise on her cheekbone laughs awkwardly while her loud friend makes jokes that only she believes are worth laughing at
And the man who is not so young anymore softly hums the tune to a song no one remembers; wondering why, amidst all the bustle, there dwells such a strange sense of quiet sadness
And how it has come to be that so many unconnected little worlds and broken dreams are riding together on that one crowded, lonely train.
The witch’s home
Staring ahead as the sirens blared, I pressed my red shoes together and tapped three times, creating a different sound for every tap. It always amused me how such a simple act could create so much change, how three steps with these shoes could take me miles away or in this case, worlds away.
The witches’ shoes had taken me to her home, a world of darkness and greed known as the underworld, the deepest layer of it where even the light of lava could not reach. Our witch had been the queen of darkness and now I have taken her place, for whoever owns these shoes shall forever return to the dark realms so long as the red prison slipper remains glued to my feet.
Or at least that is what the people of the underworld had told me when I first arrived here instead of my own home as I had expected. They told me that I had set their unhappy queen free from her sentence of acting evil, that she had once been a pure soul who fell for the devil and got tricked to work for him.
Of course, I do not actually believe them, they are the souls of the deepest levels of hell after all and not to be trusted. But I have gotten to know them over the years and their disguises are indeed very charming.
I sighed as I walked through the gates of red towards the devil himself, who was lazing on his throne waiting for me. I have to report to him every time I return here, as I may rule part of his land, but he still owns me as the ruler of all.
“Is it your tenth teleportation already?” He said once I was standing before his throne. Every tenth teleportation with these shoes takes me to the underworld, that is what is meant by forever having to return.
“Yes, the police were on my tail and so I didn’t have any choice”
The devil laughed “Oh how I do love sending you to cause mischief” he said referring to his frequent requests for me to kill mortals and bring them to hell early, purely for his amusement…the underworld has really corrupted me, perhaps like how it corrupted her.
“Well, it’s good to have you back… and I’m sure you remember the rules!” he said in a cheery voice.
“Yes, I am to stay for the next 6 years before I can teleport again” I say in a monotone having repeated those exact worlds every time I return, the devil loved to make me repeat myself.
“Very good” He said and waved his hand to the door labelled the witch, her door that used to take her to the level that she ruled over, the level that I have taken over. I give the devil a nod and walk through the door.
The door only takes me to my palace these days, as the devil now also lives on my level, I do not know why…I certainly would not chose to live in such a dark place. But that is not my concern for now, right now I shall focus on ruling these charming fakes and finding the city of Oz. I am not sure why but something in me still wants to know if they had deliberately tricked me or if they too were none the wiser. Maybe it is my ten-year-old self who clings to the hope that I was not tricked and that perhaps they could once again help me find a solution to my plight.
These were the thoughts that plagued me for the next 3 years, as I am toiling away, granting, or rejecting my people’s requests while keeping track of any newcomers. My mind was always longing to find the city of Oz, the one thing that I am making little progress in. I have tried for decades now but still am no closer to finding the world that I had been to 40 years ago.
I often blame it on lack of time, my people do keep me busy, hunting, punishing, and granting silly things like a pay rise. As evil as they may be, the devil still has them acting like living humans, he is awfully attached to human systems. Of course the evil hate it, being forced into a system that they had once rebelled against… so I often have to punish them with fires that do not shin, no light for the wicked after all.
“Strange, isn’t it? To watching them burning from seemingly nothing” said the devil on one of his visits to examine the prisons in my palace.
I had raised an eyebrow at that “You were the one who created this invisible fire and have used it for more than a millennia, how can it still be strange to you?”
And he never did answer that, I recalled as I gazed at my screen of calculations, I was trying to work out how that tornado could have taken me to anywhere that was not death, I do not think I will ever understand it, an incomprehensible magic that is the same as the magic that has these shoes glued to my feet.
I still remember how I had obsessed over that magic; I had obsessed over it without knowing that the answer was in the very world that I ruled a part of… the witch who was now in hell. The devil had very carefully hidden this from me, he had enjoyed watching me suffer for an answer that was right there within the mind of his lover, his lover who he had moved to this level for.
The evil souls had spoken a half truth, the witch was never a pure soul, but she had been the lover of the devil and I had realised too late, my 6 years were finished, and I now had 10 new teleportations to make before finally finding the witch and city of Oz. How did I go from searching for home to longing for the city of emeralds I wonder.