VISION QUEST
For Masqua,
(Such things escape words)
In the place Between
Where breathing and dream
Meet and the mind is awake
while still asleep,
I met a God or a Man
or a shaman
Music came from the stick
Didjeridoo basso swirling
piping growling into the
Circle of Light surrounding
the Man the God the
shaman
I stepped into the Circle
He looked at me
Naked
Powerful
A challenge smoldered
The music stopped
He drew lines in the air
Energy lines cut into
the Light
He stared white eyed
and grim
“You come for the story, then…”
He said, not with words
But through the lines
Into my head and dizzy
I fell into the spell of it
The rhythm of the pulse
of the blood and light and dream
He began:
“At the base of your brain
The Cosmic Serpent
Hides from her enemies
She-He, the goddess
and god of all forms
the double-helix code at the roots
of the whisper and weaving of life
So many Names has this entity been
called throughout the world
For good or ill
It lives in you
in the ground of your being
in the undergirding
of your body
your matrix
Your bones and blood
Your organs and limbs
your conscious human self
the root of the Tree of Life
This is She-He the double-headed
Serpent who births all forms…
She-He fled through the universe
And in flight found
places of Refuge
One such was Earth
And She-He fell into it
It’s face a churning mass
And She-He made of it a Womb
Hid in water and deep in Earth
In mud She-He took the
Elements and Electricity
and made all Forms of Life
From tiny algae and bacterium
To Dinosaurs and Mammoths
Reptiles and Amphibians
Avians and Animals of all kinds
and finally Woman and Man
She-He did all this
To hide the essence of Life
from the Enemy
There within the Plane of Illusion…”
The shaman stopped
Stared at me deeply
the Challenge still spinning
Between us
“Who is the Enemy?”
I asked
He moved his stick
And thumped the
Infinite ground
Before me
Casting lines
and Beating rhythm
And a Vision
Opened…
Drums beat a mandala
We were on the skin of a drum
A drum of all forms
the Vesica Picis
From which all are Born
The Template emerges
The Flower of Life
The creation behind
Creation the Unfolding Light
I was startled into perceptions
of Here and Not Here
Of “In the beginning” and
The ancient Word
Who no mouth could speak
There was nothing but Sound
Breaking my heart with Love
Then it Stopped
Abruptly
A Shattering
He continued staring
After weaving that vision
Like it was nothing
From nothing to nothing
Staring into my soul
Boring into my brain
Flaying my heart
With his unmoving gaze
I stood my ground
I stared back
He grunted finally,
and nodded
The shaman spoke:
“What is the enemy of Life?”
I nodded in return
“Death,” I answered
He smiled
“Who wins?” He asked
Stirring his stick slowly
Eddies in the air
The Golden Spiral
Trailing out galaxies
From the tip
“If it is an Illusion,
Then Death is an illusion
But so is Life…
Forming and reforming
Incarnating - and Reincarnating…”
I paused
Then I smiled
“Yes.” He said
“Then the Pattern wins.
Whomever makes the Projection
of Reality…”
“Yes.” He said
“And what is doing the Projecting?”
He pointed the stick at me
Square at my chest
Then the center of my forehead
Then back to my breast
“Who?” I asked “Not me.”
“No.” He frowned
“And Yes.”
“You are merely one part.
But you carry within you
The Whole of it…the tiny
bit of Consciousness that
Dreams the Dream…”
And then I knew.
And Death held no fear
And Life in it’s spinning
of Time and Form
Was like a field of Infinite Flowers
Each a layered Mind
A MASK
of the Infinite Reality
A Fractal Piece of the Hologram…
(Such things escape words)
The Shaman sang
And I fell through the earth
And faded...
And then I awoke
Awakened
- AB
NOTE to TENTH: I realize you said to find ONE piece that spoke to me...and I failed. What I found was a story, and the double serpent spoke first,
then the Shaman told me the story of the serpent, and the others illuminated the vision. I'm sorry if this makes me greedy. If it should be narrowed
for fairness, please remove the mandala and flower of life. If you have to take one more away, then the cosmic serpent must go. The shaman who
weaves the tale survives.
This is a story from my bones, inspired by Masqua's art. Do as you will.
edit on 9-4-2017 by AboveBoard because: (no reason given)