A Morning Contemplation

“Come walk with me.”

The leaves fell with each step we took, a steady cascade of shimmering gold. The warmth of the color seemed to fill the entire wood, as if on this crisp November day, we were walking through radiance, engulfed by yellow, moving in pure color. He walked ahead of me. He pointed to this and to that and spoke excitedly of things on his mind. But I remained quiet. There was a question pressing on my heart, and I knew not how to ask it. I was afraid that uttering the very sounds would stop the falling leaves and chill the golden warmth of the forest. So we walked on: he, still talking, and I, trying to hold my tongue. But the question pressed forward, like a dog straining against its owner’s grip. And as suddenly as a dog lunges ahead and the leash bursts from the hand, so did I blurt, “Why did you create me?” He stopped and turned.
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Flames of white and blue, of a fire that burns but not consumes,
Swept across on surface first, but soon was through and through.
Submerged but alive, yet no breathe for the pounding heart,
Until at last I deeply draw on air that fills with life.

I gaze upon heavenly rings laid concentrically,
Embraced with visible energy, engulfed with awe and mystery.
They pulsate and speak an invitation,
“We welcome you into the Trinity.”

I wake, confused, mind enshrouded,
And clarity soon brought an anxiety: did I see
Something mortals ought not to see?

I sense a new dullness to this reality.

Story of a Dragon

once there was a well. it was a deep well that was fed by an underground stream. around it stood bent and gnarled trees, some green with foliage, others bare and broken. one night, there was a terrible storm. the skies were dark and unforgiving. rain poured down in angry torrents. lightning flashed and thunder roared. suddenly, there was a loud clap, like the striking of two large stones. the well was split into two. between the bright flashes of lightning, a small dragon emerged from the bottom of the well. it was a strange looking dragon. the body was small and frail, but on each end was a head. joined at the middle, it walked awkwardly. first staggering to the right, then to the left. in the midst of the pouring rain, it made its way under a tree.

as the days passed, it grew stronger and larger, but the left side remained small. thus it would always lead the way because it couldnt keep up if the stronger side walked in front. like this, it lived in harmony with the other. but one day, the stronger side became angry. it didnt want to be joined any longer. it was always slowed down, restrained by the weaker half. the stronger one wanted to fly, to run, to kill, to eat, without a sickly half. so one night, when the moon was shrouded behind walls of clouds, it ripped itself from the weaker half. it broke the bones, separated the flesh and ran off into the night. of course the weaker side couldnt fight back. it couldnt defend itself. so there, helpless, it lay, bleeding and slowly dying.
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