The Golden Age

Posted: June 10, 2011 in Emerson Challenge

A copy of a near world, the Golden Age, floats gently, almost down, flickering in and out of vision as a breeze flickers also. A breath, out I believe, though not sure as it is the first one in a while. A sun,  maybe more, no longer burns but languidly bathes all day, in day. A moon, shall we stick with one, mercurially rising around the sun, silver wan and burnished, and closer. Birdsong, gentle, non-combative, care-free, resonating air strings, heart-strings. Insects, different, mellow, coincident, chirping audibly, low range. Leaves, golden themselves of course, traversing their cycle, watching us, turning, billowing as us. The sea, green as designed, almost waveless; the moon haven given up its claim. And a mirror, a reflection of a face I do not know, have always known and will come to know again.

Breath, in now, moments later, maybe more. Time dissolved in the antique of mind. Yesterday and tomorrow also ferrously shed in this breath’s new journey. A call, not from, or to, but in, a sigh inside, a relaxing, gentle mew resonates within the ocean … and the leaves. A vision, new and instant, of what is seen, what is here, reflectively glowing eternal brilliance, over all. Nothing less. All encompassed. The shine of a million suns emanating from every pore of everything we no longer care to know. Just here, knowing not. Living here. Refreshed. New. Safe. Alive.

Night. Same safe, alive. Turning in us as we turn also. Rest earned, not needed for rest from what? Safe again, yes safe again. Home even, the claim that we know, here, home. Unweary. Unbeaten. Unbowed. Unbloodied. Un … eternal is where we are. And another. Another what. The always known perfection of another. As hello. As a smile. As ourselves.

Need, that valiant teacher, now rested alongside. Importance. Possession. Same. Feet up, merci beaucoup. A trail of faint somethings hanging out there out of view, of grasp. Somethings, what, to be … done? Habit shaken, memory … of a memory fading. Sepia. Children laughing. A game. Ah! That was all, a game. Seeing. Knowing. Gently smiling. Again.

Soon. Real soon. Promise.

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Emerson Challenge Day # 10

http://ralphwaldoemerson.me/eric-handler

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