Pass through the twilight into the dark of night, under the shadows where the blue moon beams bright. Here is where I enter the recesses of my secret dream, seeking passage to an unseen world it seems. I find the key which unlocks the door to my heart, might, mind, and soul. In wonder, I stand amazed to see the long drawn out corridors now filling my gaze.
I enter the Labyrinth, winding intricately along the paths of gold, sighting many mystical visages along the road. The inorganic energy begs my undivided attention. I know to meet its gaze certainly means I shall be absorbed into its mesmerizing power of ascension, fully infatuated by its green glowing haze. Its tasks are full of promise to soothe the wrath and comfort the soul by instilling peace into a war torn world. Surely it will take me to the utter edge of reality, and over the horizon unto the distant shore, onto the sea of tranquility, where I shall prevail and weather all of life's storms.
Upon this sea of glass, all energy flows like plasma throughout my immortal soul; as one I am bound to this mystic entity, but yet I am free to soar high like the eagle into my 'Camelot in the Sky,' my destiny. As I linger upon my thoughts and ponder deep within the recesses of my dream, I search diligently, to find the meaning and purpose of what has brought me winding through the labyrinth of my mind. I seek to find a passage leading to the realm of mystic memory. I meet several other inorganic travelers along the way, who greet me as together we lighten our burdens through sharing songs of ancient rhymes.
The path is shining, leading me on to follow a course full of melody, rhythm, and song. A river of purple light rushes forth, flowing with streams of music, cascading down over the walls of the labyrinth all around me, splashing on the gold beneath my feet, and distinctly I hear its singing, "Come follow me!"
I march on to the beat of distant drums until I reach their origin in the entrance to the white marble hallway of many doors. Everything within the long hallway is gleaming white⎯lined with doors along both sides as far as the eye can see⎯glistening, on the walls, on the ceiling, and shining floor, into eternity. I enter in; silence reigns; not even my footsteps can be heard as I begin my long descent down the never-ending white marble corridor of many doors, each one a different dream.
I stand still, remembering the key I found, and wonder, does this key fit one of these doors, or is it perhaps a Master Key to open them all? But I realize, I must select a single door, and enter in, to emerge anew, upon the horizon. Here is where and how I must now pass through the valley of magic, all the while praying I never open Pandora's Box, as I venture into the realm of dreams.
What is this valley of magic? Now I have walked down the glimmering white hallway past several doors, door after door, until at last I see there ahead on the left, as I move slowly and deliberately along, a room door stands wide open. I notice a soft green glowing halo of luminescent light emitting from the room; it draws me in to view the unknown mystic realm.
Standing in the doorway, and seemingly remaining unnoticed or unseen, I gaze upon a green glowing spirit, or is it a bald naked man? He is rocking in his chair with a crazed smile upon his face. Is this part of the valley of magic? The entity continuously stares straightforward; all I can see is his profile. I step one pace inside the room and glance to the right, viewing what the spirit, or naked being, has in his sight. And what do I see? He is entranced by what he sees in the full-length looking glass, seen straight ahead hanging on the wall. I imagine he must be entranced by his own glowing reflection. But there is no image in the mirror. What does this mean? The room is overcast in the haze of glowing green shadows.
Quickly, I realize the looking glass is the source of the glowing green inorganic energy that fills the room and reflects onto the man causing him to appear as though he is glowing. He must be naked, for he is glowing everywhere.
The glowing energy continues to flow out from within the mirror, illuminating the entity bathed in luminescent green, as he sits rocking through eternity never blinking an eye. Although I sense a certain danger as fear mounts inside me, still I am drawn, as in a dream, toward the looking glass. As I reach, touching the mirror with my outstretched finger, I immediately fall through it; beyond the glow I go. Or, am I being pulled in, within the mirror of my mind, where I now slide deeper down the path, into a spiral shoot of the past, inside the heart of the valley of magic?
I slide the nightlong until finally I land in a dark crowded room, where so many emotions cover me in smoke. I wipe the thickness of deep thoughts from my face and brow. Again, I press forward, winding, spiraling out, as though from within the midst of a giant, sea shell. Eventually I find the exit from the spiral, and enter into a large open chamber hall. The chamber is almost completely empty, except for the wall on the left and a long banquet table straight ahead. The huge bookcase is full of volume after volume of ancient books, and straight ahead, upon the long banquet table, three distinct inorganic objects rest. I can sense within my soul, the inorganic objects long for me to take them into my arms. One is a tall golden and red striped vase; the other is a large, deep woven bowl, made of spun gold; and the third is a double-edged sword, whose hilt and blade are of a most magnificent workmanship.
Immediately, no time to delay, a thought enters my mind; so powerful and hypnotic is this thought. I am moved into action and turning to the left, removing my gaze from the inorganic objects on the table, I am drawn to the bookcase. Now I view the many titles of books contained in the immense library on the shelves built into the wall, from the floor to the ceiling, end to end, full of books.
As I read the titles of volume after volume, I began to seek for the one: the necessary one I know can lead me home. Then from the corner of my eye I sense a movement upon the table; and looking back, I could swear the vase has changed places with the bowl. But is this only a lapse of memory or a trick of the mind?
I am very puzzled and wonder. This alarm distracts me from studying the books and again I stare more intently at the inorganic objects. I am determined to discover what is this force lingering about. I study the three objects, determined to witness them moving about. But with out my seeing how or when, the sword is now suspended in the air motionless and its magic metal blade is humming, like a tuning fork, at a very high constant pitch.
Now I see it happening before my eyes; slowly the vase rises up to a meter high above the table. Instantly, the bowl becomes frenzied; it appears to be frantically attempting to simultaneously fill each of the two empty spaces left on the table by the sword and vase. The bowl shifts between the former resting places of the sword and vase and its own original space, as it endeavors to fill all three spaces. It seems the bowl moves so quickly, quicker than the eye, so convincing of its ploy, I believe there are three bowls, one in each position, each standing still. Is it possible for a single bowl to move so quickly that it appears to be three?
Again I am in wonder and curious to know how can I prove the answer to my quandary. But of course, the thought returns and the words "pick me up" are heard, but only in my mind. Never is there a spoken audible word. This thought of catching the bowl and picking it up causes a deep concern of alarming danger within me. I imagine if I grab hold, something terrible will happen. But it must be done. I grab the bowl and prove it is only one. But in that same instant I find myself now standing motionless suspended in the air above the table, between the vase and the sword. And the bowl leaps from my hands to the floor, in a green glowing flash, changing into the bald man from the rocking chair; 'tis he who is now running away laughing madly and free out of the chamber. Now I assume the bowl's (or the man's) place in suspended captivity.
Struggling with all my might, I am determined to move, to reach out and grab the sword. I battle at this endeavor for hours unto despair, defeat, and tears. Still I remain frozen, motionless in space, suspended one meter above the table. I attempt to cry out, "Let me go; let me out!" I am unable to make a single sound; not even my tears escape me to flow down my cheeks.
Finally the book of dreams, spells and incantations flies from the shelf to the table and opens itself before my eyes. There I read in large bold print the words which tell, "Speak an audible tone; make a noise, and you will grow." Now I focus on my tongue and mouth, trying to force my lips to open. But my mind says no; the lips will not move. The thought won't leave me: "THIS MUST BE A DREAM."
The words on the pages of the book persist on urging me to speak as I argue in my mind: "I cannot; it's a dream gone mad." Suddenly I forget myself, and from deep within, from the bottom of my stomach, a laugh begins to grow. A smile breaks across my lips and emotion swells up inside my chest. Laughter comes forth from a happy heart; all fear and wrath and worry vanquish from my soul. I succeed in making an audible noise, a beautiful noise⎯laughter. My laughter fills the chamber. It causes the vase to giggle too and the sword to dance in the air round about, until it presents itself directly into the sheath at my side, as though it were always meant to be there. Nothing is greater than the power and magic of laughter. This is truly the valley of magic I seek.
With this success the spell is broken and reward is mine. I drop to the table and catch the vase as it falls unbroken into my arms. Laughter echoes on and on throughout the large chamber. I secure the book of spells and incantations, containing secret solutions to the revealing of dreams, for by its direction, the spell is broken; the green glowing haze is gone.
Now in all earnest I run to the window, wanting to leap outside, but it is covered with bars. Recalling the man who ran away laughing and free, I too run, in the direction he has gone, from the chamber down the hallway to the end, and try to exit the door, but it is locked. "Now," said the vase, "use your key; you are free." Without hesitation, I unlock the door and run out of the subterranean realm to resurface on the lawn in the night, under the light of the blue moon, at the entrance to the labyrinth.
My dream is fulfilled; I have won the sword of truth in battle and now have it here by my side, ready to carry with me on into the next dream as I reenter the maze of my mind. The magic vase full of laughter will always be with me too. I have my book of dreams, spells and incantations, and the Master Key which will provide me passage through all the portals of my imagination to always find my way back home again. And to my utter most surprise, a gold woven bowl follows me wherever I go, begging to be charged by the fire of my soul.
Born of my dreams, am I, The Master Magician Rhythmik; ready again, am I, to go forth into the labyrinth and unravel the mysteries of my mind, to find within the maze my staff of life and integrity. Let the valley of magic begin from out of my mystic memory. This is my mystic dreamÖ"Let The Magic Happen."
© by Rhythmik '97 |
