Reverie-smith

The airlock swung, the pressure broke.
The air flowed in, apparition,
and I flowed out, corporeal.

The mountain held still, and I stilled my self to face the mountain.

I didn't see it. I didn't notice it, but the atmosphere above, rolled past.
The clouds silent and formidable, the sky blue and invisible.
The powers of a turning sun.

My eyes swept the mountainside, my skin felt the cold intrude, soon seeping in, resting like a second skin around me.

My breath. In and out.

I watched the earth, the rock, the dirt, the creeping plants. My mind, dark and murky with thoughts of forces, time, and process. The air    held    still    with    me.

Then my attention moved to background. Foreground was forgotten, because

The clouds glided above with the majesty of of the ocean's leviathans.
Like they, sealed off - in sound, in space, in time.

With perfect grace and peace, the aggregates of wisps, the masses of drifts, moved above with unknowable purpose, indelible complexity, mysterious source.
Smooth, uniform rotation. Incalculable twisting and flow above me. And just as tranquil, slipping out of existence lengths ahead.

And I could tell that the sky flowed with the clouds. The air flooded, wove, and drifted with exactly the same size and silence, but beyond perception.

It was as if I could feel the earth rotating beneath me, perpetual.
The solidity of it. The immensity. The whole. Pivoting so steadily so as to elude all perception.





///////



It is one of those things that is something I want to do, but have not imagined, and so it remained impossible:

I want to be able to write in such a way that I can impel someone to dream. Most likely not by actually capturing the moment I experienced, but instead to bring out the imagination of another, so that they will create their own enactment of sanctity and sentiment. Use words that do not guide, but invite away. Use thoughts that do not describe, but liberate. Force the words downward, and thrust the reader apart from common tangibility towards the lucidity scattered and sown in their own minds.

Begin with seeds poor for their lives.... proffer them soil of possibility, give them suggestions of water, communicate opportunities overflowing with oxygen. Hint at bounty and sing of tactics. And watch them create beyond what I could give.