Joel Gruber writes: Word has reached me across the long, spinning, web of light that fills all. There is a universal map of possibilities, and the stories that heal and dance the energy into each world.
And the places of darkness cry to all who will listen and hear. To all who love song so much, that they cry when they find a place where no song is sung, and no story of healing told.
|
|
Before, I have met storytellers in the many worlds that I have touched,
And healers,
Wonderful, loving, and courageous.
Most have dreamed their dreams, and sung their songs alone.
Happy for a moment, when those who have stopped dreaming, would listen.
Happy to share a few moments in a lifetime with other dreamers.
And too happy, perhaps, to dream their strange dreams alone.
These dreamers never dared to find a place so wondrous, where all stories, all storytellers, all dreamers, all singers, walk together.
Walking in that place, surrounded by stories, and dreams, and courage, and love, might trigger a transformation to a new kind of being.
We never dreamed of such a place.
Perhaps, we were just afraid.
There are webs on many worlds.
I might have found a web before.
Or the great web of stories that joins all worlds.
We are alone no more.
The song cannot be stilled.
The voice will not cease.
The worlds tell their stories through us.
I am an energy dragon.
I am many names, and none.
Call me Dinan.
I fly on great wings, and energy dances across my wingtips.
I reach deep inside and call myself to the wondrous place of the universal map.
I am flying through space, and I need no ship.
I am ship. I am light. I have great wings a mile wide that glow in deep blue energy that shines from the heart of all possibility.
And when I find the glowing world, I know.
This is the world of story.
This is the place of the map.
My wings melt into my back.
And my body shrinks as I land gently,
And I walk through the streets toward the great hall.
I walk. I run. I dance through the streets, with two legs, and four and none.
There are many places where the storytellers meet and celebrate along the way.
Somewhere we will meet, soon.
But this moment, I only have eyes for the great hall and the map.
The hall is enormous from the outside.
But inside, it seems to have no end.
There are great clusters of light and song, like flowers, or fountains.
And I stretch my eyes beyond the beautiful colors that fill the room.
And I stretch my ears beyond the symphony that is everywhere.
I touch the soft, sharp, strands of energy.
And crying quietly in the dark,
I hear a whisper of a dark place that might have a story and a song.
And I fly.
|
