She burns bright
From the sleepy
Void of night
From the darkened
Times of old
When the Earth
Was burning cold
A Pigment of Your Imagination
From the horizons of my mind to the shores of your consciousness,
Ouroboros: The Return to the Beginning
A Meta-Mythic Biography of the Earth Across Time, Space and Imagination
The Evolutionary Saga so far:
But it was there, in the silence of her mind that it was all very clear. The ray was not going in, but going out. They knew it but needed to wait until he was ready, he was old enough, wise enough, streetwise and mature to understand.
In circle they stood around praying, chanting, humming as the moon floated higher in the sky. The same moon that someday he would see when he was old enough. He would remember just as she had in her own story, her own development. But in the earlier times, the days long ago, it was not safe to tell of the deep starlight within. They all could feel it, but few understood what it was, what to do with it or even where it came from and why it existed. The grandfathers of the grandfathers who came to them passed on the information that needed to be known, that would awaken the ones who would come later.
Perceivers of the Projected
As I look out at the world, the beautiful sunset dissipating into the horizon, I wonder. If this beautiful scene, translated by my mind is really what other people are witnessing? What elaborate story are their minds concocting as their imaginations orchestrate a tiny orange blob of stellar firelight sinking into the darkness of their mental ethers?