As we look to the sky we go past the clouds and stare at the bright blue canvas wondering if there really is anything out there. Looking down at us like a small park pond reflection are angels. They are looking down wondering what we are doing and judging us. The blue is the mirror. Above the blue, above the clouds, higher than the angels is that place we all live in. The place where we all visit. Nobody can manipulate this world and the sandman sends us there. The Native American tribes tried to control it with wood and strings. Some command it and some even design it. This is freedom where even the angels cannot limit. Those who are claustrophobic and narrow can't understand it. Those who are free can walk around and explore it, trying to fully understand it. Those who are liberated can pull its strings. It is a most powerful tool, in the weapon and gift that is the human brain. We have all been there but some do not realize it. We have all had our lives forced to follow what it desires. New souls have the time. Old souls have the knowledge.
To get there is easy. There are many different ways. Most can do it while being awake. Those who are older and open can do it on command, explore and learn. The rest travel while resting their senses in a time when the brain finally takes over our thoughts. The mind can think outside of the world in which it inhabits and interpret more than what its soldier type senses send to it. The body gradually slows and relaxes. The muscles spasm as they finally work towards being dormant. Our eyes, after a hard day's graft grow heavy and close down. Our lungs slow to a whimper and act as the brain's servant to keep it vitally alive on its adventure. Limbs drop, become limp and bodies feel like the bones have become dust. Our ears still alive close like clams as to stop interference wrecking the pattern. The right side, hot and burning after a tough day, cools and has a dull glow to it. The body lays in stasis. Cruising along as it restores its wounds from the day gone by.
One place now thrives. The left side is just beginning to skip on. Its flickering light now grows strong and uses the body's heat to put the wheels in motion. Sometimes it lets off steam and it begins to chug along. The dam of day has finally been broken and the bottled up water is set free. The terrain where we travel to, higher than the angels becomes our portal and control room to a new, real world. A river world, just the other side of a mental door.
The trapped water splashes down on the rocks. It bursts through the dam like the Colorado River finally breaking free of its concrete shackles. Now it rushes, it thrills, now it is alive. The current lashes through the land ripping through the rational, lateral mind looking and running toward the sea. The sea on the whole is a calm place. It can get rough, very rough and somewhat tidal for some. Yet most of the time it sits controlled by the stars. The river and sea are made of the same entity. Their bodies are one and have to meet up and finally merge. Some people's river does not reach the sea. In fact most do not in one night. But it eventually does. It must. It may take eighty years, it may take just eight. Depends on the age of the soul. During its meandering course it takes many routes. It takes its water to many different landscapes before reaching its destination. Every river has a destination. Throughout the journey we can control the river and take it straight to the sea. Some do not know how. When we are awake it does not stop, it slows. Sometimes society dams it up so tight that it can never strike through. Yet it will eventually. Some take the difficult route and some even do not realize that they are at the sea. Many rivers run dry like that of Africa. Many only run when there is a flood. Yet rivers are always added to by the rains that fall and sometimes others' rivers crossing over.
That is the magic of the water cycle. Water, created in the mountains, runs through to the sea. From many lakes and river parts along the way water evaporates. Yet it condenses and falls back to the river at a later date to keep it fresh and new. Eventually the river meets the sea and connects it all together. The water from the sea evaporates and eventually falls back on the mountain forming a newly born river with a new sea to reach.
Rivers have guides as well. The falcons fly above and give hints on whether there are obstacles ahead. Grizzly bears fish and swim within it telling the river whether it is dying and losing its energy. Elk dogs drink from it teaching of their history and educating it. Fish swim within it, hoping to one day be set truly free in the sea. Of course there are sometimes crocodiles and disease in the river. They try to consume the river and eat its guides. The river can fight them and rid themselves of the burden, but some are just too weak and infected before they break down the dam.
Yet the boy possessed a river bright and full of potential. Just like everyone else he possessed one created up in the mountains of the horizon. His river knows of the diseases and tries to expel them. He listens to his friends and mentors, the sun and the moon. He understands the partners he has on the journey: north, south, east and west. The river is flowing true yet has a long way to go yet.
A long time ago, the river had an infestation of water plants in its body when it had just started to flow. They slowed its progress. It had places to go.
YOU ARE READING
Floodlights
RomantikStuck in a rut and weighed down by a disastrous huge moment in his past, frustrated writer Matthew must confront his demons and take control of his repetitive nightmares to save his hometown football team, win the game and the girl.
