Then there's the dream of the Orient adventure
always set in the tired mountains of Kentucky. Or images of driving around
unstatable but imperative destination. The streets of the
the research lab
the Coast Guard station; never an exit
Occasionally visions. Visions of her. I've known her since the third grade. Eden implied more than Eve.
Echoes from the future inverted event horizon. Unknowingly we measure time as if it were ticks on a ruler a dimensionless scalar. It is more than a quantity a quantum; it is quality dimension. Time is a vector an essence of the continuum integral to our understanding of existence essential. The possibilities probabilities; all exist within time... in time all things exist. Relativity flies in the face of reason without reference.
An Ancient One revealed himself to me hooded imposing on a grassy knoll. Aged amorphous androgyny sheathed in robes weaved from the fabric of reality. I recognized him for what he was. I knew this was the only time there was. Stone faced before me allowing one question only one question and then.... My mind raced what was that one riddle? Would he understand my feeble tongue? Could I comprehend the response not waste his time? The skies becoming as rock.
"Is it true?" I blurt a diamond tearing from my coal eye. He circles counter-clockwise turning back the hands of time; I am granted another question. Upon a grassy plain wind sweeps.
"Are you alone?" He circles again to my left. As I turn to face him I am on a suburban sidewalk and find four teens of four races with smiles and giggles. They motion for me to join follow them and as I step towards they scatter to the four corners winds bar my progress. There are others milling around; groups walkers and as I've always known: the quest I am to find her. I am in an alternate state of actuality a highly charged energy level; I am a quest ion.
As I approach a gathering and begin to ask wordless directions to come this way that. Some helping some distract a maze of tracing retracing. Somewhere an arena. Part of the game staying focused. Arrival but the path is fenced; snickers a scattering redirects misdirects. Misinformation hints clues. Knowledge is power the only truth. Miss Information I am to find. Circuitry paths mark my search meanderings. Me and rings hanging from my neck chains binding the key.
The river of time flowing over a rise somewhere. One to find the way in and then... what performance?
What a performance.