The Train (part 2)

 

That child spins around and around. I want to light a firework and shoot her out over the city, exploding into a million stars, falling down outside my window.

But this music is so soothing. I see myself swimming, indigo blue. No pressure, no time,  just motion.

Free-flowing aliveness pulsating through my body while I sit in front of this room, talking. Not knowing how or why just talking, about light and love and space and freedom. 


But it never works does it?, because freedom becomes routine which becomes boredom. I might as well be dead.

So much coffee spilt on this hallway, but nobody said anything.  They just walked on past the broken razor. I asked “how did I get here”?,  but she didn’t reply.

So I followed her through the wood which was yellow and coldand full of crows spiraling and circling in the sky like paper. I went deeper and deeper until I was covered with green rushes which led to a river. It was so still and peaceful. The sun had just risen and the mist was hanging over it like a painting. I breathed in the space.

A heron sat still motionless, balancing on the edge,  as if I had created him in my picture. I sat and waited.

She came out beating her drum and spinning her rattle.  Thousands of dancers appeared in veils beside the fire. It was dark and the stars were shining like my eyes. They went spinning round and round, floating on the smoke which came out from the forest.

The rattle sounded like it was speaking to me. Suddenly I heard the gong and woke up,  but she came out of the smoke towards me,  behind the veil.

She beckoned me over and I went back and remembered.  We were all gods skipping and floating and creating our reality. All was open and all was endless and all was free.

Spinning and spiraling, the smoke and I disappeared.  I couldn’t recognize my face. It was blank. There was nothing there.  I was empty and I was filled with everything.  It filled me up and I forgot about this room, and this drudgery, and these endless words that go on and on.  This person that I am possessed by. In this world, with all the faces, and the trains, and the dead people walking about like zombies in the dark morning while the ice glistens in the moonlight.