I draw back the curtains.
I look across the vistas of time set before me and seek to discover my purpose hidden in the folds of history.
I see a time way back, when all the lands were covered in darkness.
I see glimmers of light peeking out trying to escape the cloying night and I see them one by one extinguished by the cloaking black.
I cast my glance a little nearer in time and see a mist clouding the valley so that it is impossible to ascertain any signs of life, yet the total darkness has dissolved.
And I cast my glance here in the ravine below me.
I see a canopy of thick forest, so thick that it is impossible to know where the bottom is.
So thick that you cannot tell where or when any living creature may be lodged.
So thick that you can only imagine suffocation and dankness within.
Then I look to my left.
It is a chaotic mess of grey, drizzled outposts.
Outposts of civilizations struggling to put one foot in front of the next, eyes downcast and shoulders stooped.
Yet at least I perceive life.
Then I look to my right and all of a sudden I see rainbows and sunlight and dew and grass.
And I see some small children with their faces turned up to the sun.
Then I see villages, brimming with life and creativity.
And a busyness, a busyness that quivers with energy and vibrance.
Heartened, I lift my eyes to the space directly above and in front of me.
I step back aghast because something here is so different.
It is not like anything that has appeared before.
It is not like anything that I have ever seen.
It is like a lightness, a glimmering softness of gentle hues that caress the rosy cheeks of dawn.
It is the sigh of contentment in the passing breezes,
And the golden dapples of sunlight dancing on the crystal streams.
I feel a sense of calm, a gentle breathing in and out of life,
An unhurried pace to the rhythm of life.
It is hard to tell where this new vista comes from.
It has just unfolded here in front of my eyes unheralded and unbeckoned.
It envelops me now, and I see only this.
I am caught up in contemplation as if in a dream yet fully conscious.
I know, I know there is no sleep here.
What message is this?
Is this the dawning of a new, wholesome age?
Is this the blueprint for a future world which takes its seed from this moment in time?
It is too good to be true,
And yet, as I close the curtains once more and turn back to my desk,
Everything has changed in the room.
Nothing is as it was a moment ago.
Its as if I have new eyes and a new way of seeing.
It is as if everything has shifted slightly and is now less solid.
I rub my eyes. I shake my head.
But to no avail.
My world has definitely, irrevocably changed.
And I know now as I sit down once more and pick up my pen,
Nothing I write will have the same meaning as it had before.
There will be a new nuance.
One of hope and softness, of light and color, of warmth and calm.
And I feel that this is the moment, in the turning of the great wheel of life,
When all the hard work has finally been done
That the time has now come to reap its reward.
mystic storyteller 