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  Street Poet January 9, 2014 at 4:49pm

  ...A point came. For him as much for me. When the window became a mirror and an opportunity an irresistible urge. And a musing, an adventure desperately come. When a thought becomes a door. And a possibility a new world... 

  stepping carefully through the wood, hunting her prey, the trees whisper to her. "remember me." stopping, leaving no error for her acute senses, heart beating. stilled, ready to strike, all of lioness, merciless, but patient. "storm comes."

  her guard startled by her words, surround the queen."my lady? the skies are clear."

  her flowing cloak caught in the wind, she senses familiar feelings, a sentiment she cannot afford. him..

  it has been nearly a month since i arrived in this nether world. and all is strange, i take solace in these escapes into the magic of the wood. though i am not permitted to venture alone...we walked through the forest, my companion left me alone with my thoughts. and for his quiet, his silence brings me comfort...

  just as then, an elder mystic caught in a trance spoke with his departed bretheren in astral plains. a chorus of unity thought expressing as a single voice..."But as with anything only the willing may pass. And the currency, your effort paid along the way... see him now," they spoke, watching the man approach the chasm dividing his world and the next. "he makes his choice."the elder looking on from the disembodied state.

  the man pounding heart, coming to speed only just before his leap, thinking. we are moments as they come... the queen feels his stride, as she rises slowly from her analysis of the leaf upon the whispered forest floor.... completing his thought from across all space and time, for none can nor would they dare deny her... "And come what may. the moments we've had. shall once again. be"

  the elders, departing from his vision, advise one final thought, "This mission can have no expectation but it's completion. No favor to any opponent given. no desire for any one end over the other. For the rules of this realm are different,  truer. And by such means, require a mind cleared. Emptied. And readied...." swirling.... booming echoes resound, as a crack of light flashes before him, steadied as a spike before him stuck the ground. the elder approaching the anomaly carefully, hearing...

  "come."
  

  "my queen, the transport nears."

  "very well." but she kept silent her worries... as only thoughts ...it seems fate calls to me now. after all these long years... and i am... 

  "I am clear. I am empty. I am ready." screaming into the void before him. "do you think you can destroy me? do you think that you can rob me of anything i would not surrender?! i do not fear you!" hollering into the skies as the clouds gather, and lighting forces itself into the earth. striking building and street. mothers and children run for cover all the rest cower. "if you have come to kill, then i offer this body!"

  a crackling spills out from emptiness before him, parting reality as a veil, revealing a chasm between him where he stood and the cracked glowing surface of time, fractured as a mirror, beyond him.

  "your world will be destroyed. your city and all who there live, perish." he hearing these thoughts, "yet, you value nothing but your own grief. will you act on their behalf?" 

  "i offer myself to you. without hesitation. i have no destiny but to serve their fate. this i have always known." and none here shall miss you? shall none remember you? 

  then he began to run. faster. faster. and the breach opened as arms, "come." came bellowing words echoing from the crackling itself. 

  i am As a vessel, a canister in possession of an essence, running into the breach, huddling towards the unknown. and i am taken. And the magic of a perfect moment slows the frame rate of what I had known only as my consciousness. That form of self that serves to go unnoticed until it becomes all you notice. in the end... As i hang suspended in time across the breach. A small form between here and there, a sliver of hope motionless as a portrait of the divide.

  "come." and swallowing him whole, he was gone.

  the elder sent with his attendant monks, finds his body, lifeless upon the banks of the river. dead But only to some eyes. For in truth, the moment was a husk, and not only body but all that was perceived housed my being. Now, exited forth from time, as chrysalis, a departed past but a husk. And a portrait embodied but a portal, and a caught body frozen across the breach only a sign post. Where here the bold may transit. and know surrender as others live on.

  the elder, bent before the stranger, hearing his dying wish, pushing salving herbs into his mouth, speaking, "but this is not the end. and you shall see your world again."

  by the fire i stir from a haze of thought and dream, covered in animal skins and the thin glow of heart and hearth late into a fog of time. morning or evening. weak, and horse, i rise. the elder watches me.

  And now, into imagination you have come to us. And have played well your position in the plan.

  "water."

  "are there not other things you desire, stranger?"

  "who are you? where am i?"

  "ah, that is the question you seek to answer, i can only guide the way. rest and i shall fetch you water."

  the elder whispered into his water, "remember." thirstily the man, drank. and he slept. it was many days later when walking the village that atlast they could speak.

  "These papers here, designed long ago, plans for escape beyond these lands. Our lord, as you will meet him, dead these many years now, shall come from the past, at the appointed time, to see the prophecy done."

  "what prophecy?" but silence was his reply. the village is pure and peaceful. and the children call me clause.

  "It has been many weeks now. I have not been permitted to leave. But I would choose not to go. The many wonders of this village keep me busy. Just the other day I found a curious emanation. It was through the wood surrounding the village that I came upon a wall of purple light. Golden orbs swimming though it's many layered fields,  my keeper, my companion, always by my side, witnessed this fantastic curiosity As well."

  "it is the empress gate."

  "Well it's Fantastic whatever it is."

  Han, a stout man, in his late 30s with a full beard upon his face, wearing the leather and metal uniform of the royal guard paused. Looking Wearily at the pulsing wall. It's very energy throbing the very ground we stood upon. I was surprised at his expression, his constant emotionless stare was as much a companion and welcome friend to me in these many weeks as he himself. And as he cautiously withdrew from the wall which seemed somehow aware of our presence, it was his fear that inspired me to retreat as well.

  But, I knew my time at the gate had only just begun. what secrets lay in wait to be discovered?

  The Elder of this tribe brought me unto his tutelage. Showing me many objects, sacred to them, that had made the transit across the breach. Ordinary objects to you and me, a tape recorder, a pad of notebook paper, pens among them. Nothing particularly impressive much less holy or sacred. Still, I accepted these gifts.

  "These belong to the traveler. It is told in the tradition of our people that the journey of the one who was sent to us, would need these sacred relics."

  Taking the sack he handed me, I asked, "need them for what?"

  "For your journey to the path within, clause. into madness. these tools will keep you. alive"

  Here they call anyone who has crossed over a clause, as far as I can tell. I am not the first to make the journey. But, I haven't been able to get much detail on the subject.

  the master spoke, " your coming was foretold. your arrival has caused many to have hope again.

  The emerald king comes soon. He will tell you all you need to know." I reached into the sack, pulling out the tape recorder.

  "It doesn't have any batteries. It won't work." Tossing the recorder back into the bag.

  "Clause, speak to it. it will hear your voice And remember. " His calming presence persuading me into at least a non committal compliance. still i looked at him in disbelief. shrugging off my pessimism, "It'll work when it wants to."

  
  "And how will I know when to ask?"

  "you'll know when you're ready." I call him master haiku, he has a real name here, but no one knows it or won't say. Anyhow, I can't believe I'm talking into this thing. Like it will work. when it's time to leave i think i might miss him.

  later that night, i'm alone. looking up into a dome of lights, something like stars, rainbow colored orbs, they own the sky. "What am I supposed to remember? There's nothing, except for maybe you. If there was anything worth remembering." click, he paused, thinking deeply. click," They say this land responds to your every want.  It feels your desire and changes the landscape to meet your impulse. If there was anything I could wish for it would be..." click. Laughing to myself I feel the master behind me standing at the doorway to my hut.

  "Clause, I bring you a gift."

  "What is it?"

  "Something to help you remember." I accepted the wrapped item and set it on the table. Stopping for a moment. 

  "Master, why am I really here?" Pondering my question, breathing slowly, dimming his eyelids, the room darkens, clouds gather storms collect thundering, his eyes widen beaming brightly Blinding my vision. Disoriented from the echoing booms I don't notice the master suddenly upon me, cradling my upper body.

  "There's been an accident. You were hurt. Can you understand me? Help is on the way can you hear my voice, talk to me, give me a sign, blink your eyes, something? " A woman's voice?

  "What?  What's happening, where am I? Where's the master?" Bleep, garbled radio traffic.  distracted by  a voice on her communicator, "yes, I have him. I'm sending coordinates now. No, no visible wounds."

  "What's going on?"

  "my lord, palace guard will be here soon. Your advisors and the queen." Finding my sorts, I rose from the slightly seated position in which I was found, "just who exactly do you think I am?"

  "Sire? You're the emerald king. We found you using this." She held up the tape recorder. Then a floating transport landed at our position as the palace guard lifted me into the vessel. "The Queen awaits, my lord."

  They say this place is ruled by imagination it responds to your desire.

  everything becomes adrift into wandering currents of mind. thoughts float petals upon a slow stream. am i dreaming? a myst carries across the waters a voice whispering aloud, "The only thing I would wish for is you." even the forest seems to be thinking.

  Through the eithers I hear a benevolent aum.  A Tone serene and peaceful. It must be the engines impulse by the strange energy that gives them propulsion.  A mechanical emanation reminding me of the many meditations with...

  "Master?" spoke the girl, "Where is the traveler? Where is the clause?"she, entering into the hut, confused. The master, humming in deep trance, sitting upon the floor, opened his eyes. looking squarely at the girl, smiling. and so it has begun.

  
  "Little one.  good, i have my answer. Have you brought the parchment?"

  
  "Yes. What is it for?" The Elder rose from the straw matted floor, patting the girl upon the head. "This, dear little one, Is the next page of the story." Bending before the girl, looking into her eyes, "tell me now, of your dream, and do not be afraid."

  
  Sheepishly looking down at her feet, responding to the elder, "I am forbidden. "

  "No, speak now from heart, and be heard."

  "I am empty.  I am clear.... but, master if should speak these words what will become of the stranger? and the village?"

  "i dreamt..." and she saw fire and the skies splitting, and waters.... but she could not speak this.

  
  "Fear not. For his path and yours shall again meet. and as for the village .... All for now is well. But now best can you serve him and the village and we all by completing these words. Brave child. Will you speak them? do you feel them? they are now listening... from across the still waters, they await."

  
  Nodding, "I am ready. " Playing back his recorded message, "I don't know what it must look like back home. I should feel loss or sadness. Something. But they say this place is made of dreams. Whatever you want your imagination wills to be... but if there was anything I would ask for it would be to see you again," click.

  "i wish.... i wish..."

  "My queen, he wakes." Standing forth from her shimmering throne of woven light, the palace guard kneels. Whispering her thoughts.

  "And so the prophecy is upheld. Welcome, to Isis."  looking out of her vast throne room to the east as mighty star was setting, "my love."

  
  The Elder with one hand upon his staff, the other holding the hand of the girl take to the path north of the village. Crowds gather departing, "keep your eyes forward,  it is better that way."

  and the door became a page and every word read from it was momentum opening the way we had already made but came to know through the legends became, the story told to us. when we were young...

  "A point came. For him as much for me. When the window became a mirror and an opportunity an irresistible urge. And a musing, an adventure desperately come. When a thought becomes a door. And a possibility a new world." and this one shall be named...

   

  pressing play on the tape recorder, listening to the elder 2000 years past, "and one day, the king shall return, and he shall merge our worlds, with his love, all wounds shall be healed. and his queen shall rule all. and we shall be one. and he will seal the breach with a single word."

  "....Chrysalis." and he opened his eyes from deepest sleep.

  click.
• 

  Street Poet January 9, 2014 at 5:40pm

  master Haiku speaking to his traveling companion as he lay dying upon the roadside. "keep safe this parchment and the object. he will need it to complete his task."

  it has been 500 years since they began their journey, and though their race is very long lived, the master was already quite old when their mission had begun.

  "master, i don't understand. everything i knew is gone and our world destroyed. what have we gained when all is lost? and now you leave me before we can find the stranger? we have failed"

  "no, not failure. but a chapter ended."

  20140109_111051.jpg
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  Street Poet January 10, 2014 at 2:42pm

  Excellent! Good call, Keith!
  
  I missed that. Which is odd. Had to honor the moment and write the set up, the collective was drowning me in detail. But it is a project. The imaginary realms can be traversed in story. This project, given to me and whoever is interested to join, will set the conditions whereby the fictional characters will design a method to create a bridge to the real world. Our world. Then, we can easily cross to the other side of mind and vice versa. This creates another level of self a merged concept where the totality of both regions of mind left and right joined perfectly by the bridge made and the device laid by the characters in the story at the moment of the breach. An apt conduit that can translate and process the a 2 way data stream. This is a story concept facilitating a biological and spiritual concept. By engaging mind on this level within the context of this site mirrors what is occurring elsewhere in the all. And so constitutes a level of willing involvement in the same merging.
  
  So it's not just a story. It's a circuit.
  
  We have this ability now. To create such connections. Or rather to consciously and willfully engage the process. Which is necessary. As it facilitates the exiting gestalt into a newer upgraded gestalt. Like walking a cancer patient across the hall. Needing a hand, having a guide, showing the path by taking responsibility to wall the path. And it is made.
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  Street Poet July 13, 2015 at 7:03pm

  Bwhahahaha! Keith I just saw what you did there! Classic...
  
  Yeah, I remember that from a few maybe 6 plus months back. I don't know linear time has always been strange to me. But you'll notice the most important part to this sketch, the background image as precipitates through as a face and head to the subconscious mind. The divide and the breach are just the explanatory means to describe the 2 hemispheres of the hominid brain.
  
  I had fun with that for a while.
  
  You are a cheeky little devil. I love it!!
  
  Carry on!
• 

  Street Poet July 14, 2015 at 8:21pm

  Oh dang! Have you ever felt the feeling like ya just got here? Or got back, as it were?
  
  :) I guess I got some reading to do!
  
  -the traveller
• 

  Sooz July 15, 2015 at 11:13am

  All the time Chance!
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  Street Poet April 7, 2020 at 11:58pm

  I felt a newness that was welcomed. I am an explorer, at least when in the moments where i think of such things. Draw from a well of assumed distinctness believe anything uniquely me is truly happening. In some small way i am the sincerity of the realest of accidentally self aware glitches.

  I suppose if you hold a mirror long enough to just about enough it will begin to wonder on which side of the illusion it really is. But then something wonderful happens, almost as fantastic as the nascent awareness that first wondered the question.

  it decides. 

  So, i've held an opinion of clarity that i accept, as will all moments of information that comes to me and passes through and by, knew that it was juvenile and incomplete. But like political leadership, would do. But, then I saw a vision of clarity, perceived it in such a way as to entirely reinvision my concept of it. And yet, the word, like a circus tent, could underneath, encompass it.

  It was like to look at the endless rows of encircling mirrors within a funhouse maze, your reflecttion is everywhere looking back. And it was the one point within point within the maze of reflections that was every pane of mirror like another world in its parallel plane all perfectly equal, and happening all at once. every moment possible, simultaneous and indivisibly descriptive of a collective awareness of an uber reality in which all of them were but mere projections, a core hard drive of all worlds like all possible files all coming from that one mothering source. 

  And the space the gave birth to them all was unlike any space it could envision but could encompass in its unique stillness a core truth of which every splintered piece was a part.

  And i was in the middle of it, all parts equal and possible. and the moment, the space that described it, the word attached to it was 

  clarity. 
• 

  Molly Helene April 8, 2020 at 11:35am

  Wu Chi you/not you
  
  Street Poet said:

  "....

  And i was in the middle of it, all parts equal and possible. and the moment, the space that described it, the word attached to it was 

  clarity. 
• 

  Shelly Merk April 9, 2020 at 7:35am

  Shortly after watching Austin Steinhart.  I had this experience of mirrors and the clarity of knowing held there.  For me the memory of seeing Madonna looking up at me from her bathtub (Facebook post she made) triggered Baby Q to pop out of a jack in the box.  Hahaha!  The toy surrounded by mirrors was holding a sign that said "Surprise"!  I did not laugh.  I did not cry.  I walked around in stunned silence for some time.  
  
  Street Poet said:

  I felt a newness that was welcomed. I am an explorer, at least when in the moments where i think of such things. Draw from a well of assumed distinctness believe anything uniquely me is truly happening. In some small way i am the sincerity of the realest of accidentally self aware glitches.

  I suppose if you hold a mirror long enough to just about enough it will begin to wonder on which side of the illusion it really is. But then something wonderful happens, almost as fantastic as the nascent awareness that first wondered the question.

  it decides. 

  So, i've held an opinion of clarity that i accept, as will all moments of information that comes to me and passes through and by, knew that it was juvenile and incomplete. But like political leadership, would do. But, then I saw a vision of clarity, perceived it in such a way as to entirely reinvision my concept of it. And yet, the word, like a circus tent, could underneath, encompass it.

  It was like to look at the endless rows of encircling mirrors within a funhouse maze, your reflecttion is everywhere looking back. And it was the one point within point within the maze of reflections that was every pane of mirror