The Seventh Direction

PART TWO: Inner Space. Episode 15

 [..........................a billion or so miniscule points-of-light flashing erratically off and on, they were, spiraling round in deep black space . . . as if recoiling . . . as if seeking added strength . . . as if pumping-up for another stab at . . . at whatever! (Wyl narrates) —A. A.]

Far off, down below it seemed, for that was where I was looking!—mind's-eye all the while gazing Above—or maybe Within—at the farthest reach of the Universe itself (such darkness, this tunnel, this portal's end)—The Mirror returned view. Hovering there, reforming in the dark, quickening in mind's eye, refueling the vision, with renewed motion, The Cosmic Mirror—white-hot ball-of-light, "purging-flames" all round its rim!—came suddenly through The Deep, pounding on down, somersaulting over Itself, fast-approaching, Headlong, right for me! I cried, quickly judging that It should not be gazed upon by the naked eye, nor by mind's eye. Not this time round! Nor could I . . . till Its faraway, scorching surface grew colorful once more, veiling the likes of Its pure, clear brightness burning some all-important (Unknown) dated-image upon the dark screen of my mind.

Chaos continued, and The Cosmic sphere drew closer . . .

The new, the Unknown, the familiar-but-little-understood, all played havoc with my perception. Caught up in limbo, I was, hovering at ceiling height and gazing down below: But upon some half-remembered half-answered prayer half-seen in some mind's-eye vision that seemed light-years away!? Chaos within and all round, it certainly DID seem. Still, there remained Incredible Order at the heart of it all. That was becoming perfectly apparent, for I could feel Its familiar but Unknown power pumping . . . pumping. Pumping me up! Stirring all through me! Burning inside! Moving me with Its awesome primeval intent!

Tumbling down, burning, Mirror in Time turning. Coming closer! Down, down, Ancient of Days fiery, forming all around me! And as a fleet, deep-felt feeling of some Forgotten Long Ago cast colorful images in brightness before me, but to turn quick to grey-nebula upon encroaching the third dimension, a dread collision occurred, two worlds collided, and The Mirror cracked—a fearful, FATEFUL flash of lightning, as seen through the eyes of my soul, awakening unknown depths in my being...............rock bottom.............and the Hall Of Records broke open, and the quick grey nebula turned to stone: to a large crypt-like greystone door stricken through with bright, white, lightning strikes—a greystone door which, moaning, groaning, grinding, creaking (screeching a verrrrry long and loud one!), broke open its seal and slowly rolled away. Prayer granted?

Or what?

A brief, heartfelt moment of sanctuary abound in me. But whether it came from the undefiled liquid-light firing Its way through some veiled order of Deep Space to charge Its mystery upon me, or from the more familiar firm gravity of the grey nebulous-sphere lingering resonant like a boulder within my mid-section, I cannot say. For my thoughts were overshadowed as consciousness put fast to this new and foreboding (yet ancient and peaceful) center of motion: unchanged, I realized, yet changing and growing—an uncovered center, a rediscovered center, the center of myself beyond the greystone door. And a blood-red fire appeared, dead ahead and down in the white room, raging furiously around an obscured-form.

. . . and the Hall Of Records played on.

Flickering, a steely blade grew through the blood-red fire—hung there, forging, quickening, brilliant in the midst. Building its strength, the blade tempered and magnified, then slowly turned till the angle seemed just right . . . and hot, blue/white light leapt from the sword, four ways—East and South and West and North—and circled round the rapier.

The Veiled vision came clearer.

Suddenly I tumbled, down The Hall, through space undying, attracted like somehow this cruciform light was my own! And closer, closer to the obscured form, while scathing white-hot fire raged roundabout, casting-off discolored flares of abhorrent reflection. My reflection! My illusion! My latent chronology of an indifferent evolution! And a faint, dark, tainted, scarcely self-sustaining misty vision grew out, reeking revelation: stinking with the impurities cast before me and firing, remolding in the burning depths of some hideous hell. Gruesome hell—

Infernal apocalypse—as down I tumbled, head over heels, slow of motion, spanning the distance, drawing nearer, the sword approaching, moving through time-on-fire. Then clearer vision heralded Armageddon: swift movement, many horses, King's-men in armor . . . clouds of dust . . . slain, bloodied-bodies strewn (and still the stench remained! Vile!), like some grisly illusion of The Greater Reality played out in ghostly mist upon a world with characters feint of heart, falsely wise, thrashing themselves down, reaping their reward.

(Reaping their reward?!)

On the near-horizon a ring of light (halo, aura, reflecting bright light!) rides the wave, the sword at its center approaching. And Excalibur, Harbinger of Truth, drifts closer, cutting its way through the dross of a burdened memory—closer, wrapping the battle in its Flow as if in some veiled reality they belonged together. Peering down through misty light, tumbling . . . I fell in through blazing fire to the bloodshed, feeling the weight of heavy armor around me. Down, down I fell to a steely blade in thrust, penetrating (piercing!), and the raging flames turned wet fire inside me, spiraling through till (hot and wet) they reached the far edges of some large, strange body, transforming by heat, purifying—baptism by fire!—glowing, the center of the body depicting a Sun. And gentle rays branched four ways (east and south and west and north); and a Whirling Rainbow appeared, held up and hovering within Sun's ray's arms. Dear God.

I drank in . . .

. . . my deepest desire tempering within fiery rays of an Old Sun rising through cool springs of a New Dawn descending. To the Sun, to the four directions, to the rainbow—to this symbol, I drank in: to the beauty, to the waters of New Knowledge and the fires of Old Wisdom merging upon Earth. To the hope, I drank in . . . gasping, grasping . . . and in one deep breath I was returned to the body—in one deep breath I was jammed back into my body, unexpectedly, expanding beyond the physical to feel some new boundary to this body. And I felt the air—the heir to this temple—breathed in as light, and knew by the Law of Grace I had been granted one more chance at life. One more. Reflecting:

And I'd seen more than I alone could've ever imagined, much too much to ever remain the same. I'd seen history rewritten, and a new timeline unfolding, expanding, refashioning, reconstructing me. Seen the old becoming new again! And as I breathed deeply once more . . . but the depths brought swiftly to mind the shock of a racked body impacting concussively through my head, and an insufferable turbulence round a cruel pain in the pit of my stomach, and I lapsed. Falling back through misty light . . . and as I fell, the Greystone returned to Mind's Eye view: whirring it was, and causing a subdued motion. And it drew ever nearer, and I felt a cool breeze now . . . and a faint, whispering stillness lightly touching down now . . . and a still silent Voice welling up from within now, and I was carried away. A gentle thud sounded as Greystone rolled back to its place and sealed, locking the Hall of Records round me. Then all grew up black as I faded into oblivion, drifting off with the rhythm of The Voice into a delirium of........................boundlessness.