The moment hits and I descend into the far reaches of rain-soaked deserts and tropical tundras of perplexity and color. I'm like a rock in a pond; consciousness and reality and coherence come and go like ripples of icy-cool water. Free of all encumbrances native to life, religion and politics, I dive down into the liquid emotion and find it is a long while before I must resurface for a breath.
I speak to the lights and the darkness the with the quietly cacophonous voice of existence beyond death. I dance with the denizens of my own private forest, who fill my as yet empty cup with premonitions of a history I've never studied. I float on like a mesmeric, majestic dragon and breath the fire of omni-sentient butterflies. Rainbows appear in a field of green grass, leading nowhere and everywhere at once. Halos of sunshine surround like an aura, illuminating all I have ever wondered or even thought to wonder. Cloud whispers dance seductively with my psyche. Wisdom hangs on the air like so much smoke.
I do not fear death, only a return from whence I came. Everyone and every thing is indubitably, unimpeachably, infinitely real in my sphere. Knowledge is ripe for the picking, shiny and red or green or gold, or black as the night, blue as the sea, or purple as the sunset. In the house with open windows and unlocked doors, I discovered the future and the past as one . . .
insquequo deinde
~93
