The night is deep and soft alone on the cliff. The ground is bare and worn around the cherished ancestral home. Overlooking the sea is a beautiful white Victorian home the paint faded with decades of sea spray. Perched precariously on the edge of the cliffs abyss, held aloft only with old bare wooden rafters. Inside this ancient mansion of memories ghosts of white furnishings are sparsely placed along the dark wooden floors. Down the hallway a small bedroom with a single open window waits. The small white bed is old and comfortable, placed near the window to view the calm blue waters below. Soft white curtains delicately frame the old portal and flutter playfully with the gentle sea breeze. Softly illuminating the interior within shines the brilliant light of summer’s first full moon. An ancient watchman chronicling man’s journey through time, the moon hovers high in the sky.
One moment the heavens are at peace and the next moment sets the luminous orb into unnatural motion. From the lonely window the moon is seen falling through the sky, tumbling down towards the horizon with unsettling speed. A wrenching can be felt in the center of each earthly being as the moon continues its plummet to a new placement in the heavens. Within a matter of moments north and south embrace and change places in their cosmic dance upon the earth. As the polar partners move Mother Earth opens her gaping maw and spews forth her primal pent up rage upon the world. The air is defining with the noise of waring. Ancient gods suddenly awoken from their timeless slumber. The shift is gut wrenching, catastrophic. Everything goes black.
In the dark all is quiet. There is no sound, no movement, no light, only the heartbeats of every living creature can be felt like drumbeats on the soul. An infinite moment passes and a point of light breaks through the darkness. Pure and new all eyes are opened to the realities of this new day. All is green and fresh, washed clean by earth’s eternal waters. The air itself is infused with the color and scent of newborn green plants, the first birds sing their arrival. In the distance many small fires burn. Here the survivors gather for warmth and support. Some gathered here are looking for lost loved ones, desperate for any news. Other are in shock staring into the flames, maybe looking for understanding. The rest are held fast to the fire in silent repose, struggling to come to terms with their new fate.
Over the horizon a new dawn awakens upon a world born again.
scripturam insedit 