Affirmational Incantation: First Door

As the last vision rests perfectly and easily within me like that fire which cleanses yet does not burn, my feelings turn toward the first door filled with light in this new life. I am awestruck standing before this bright and shining door now taking a moment to reflect with gratitude upon such a miraculous opportunity bestowed by this life that is after all a gift from God. I center myself before moving toward this door. The feeling is of being in the presence of something possessing genuine Holiness: feelings of reverence and awe. In order to get to this door, I had to delve into the darkest recesses of self and open the blackest doors I found full of horrific pain. I have paid the price in darkness many times over for this light. I know now that each door hereafter will open from light to light to more light still. I dare to imagine what in this physical place wherein my spirit resides, has yet been unimaginable: love and joy and peace fearlessly and freely shining like the sun on this perfect summer's day. Opening the door merely a sliver releases white light so powerful that it is blinding and takes my breath away for a moment. It is whiter than white and brighter than bright. No, Friends, no - it is not TIDE. Don't be silly. It is love.

Beauty and the Beast, poem by David Sky

The Beast -
The Beast, always the Lonely One, The Sad One
Waiting for someone or anyone or no one at all to stop
 And say, “Hello In There!”
Waiting to be utterly and truly startled by recognition
Imagining what that would be like but also afraid, very afraid,
For The Beast who is so Fearsome to The Others is … is …
As terrified in his Mighty Heart as any tiny, helpless bird
He is, after all, only a left brain thing, only words, thoughts, language -
The One Who Hears and Speaks and Writes
Yet who has never seen one single, solitary, Vision in his whole life

The Beauty -
She who is as pristine as morning dew on a rose
She of perfect measure, perfect balance, perfect porcelain skin
Whose movements flow like some thoughtless, happy waters
Her long, artistic fingers fluttering effortlessly over the Beast
Over the still surface of the seas, over the mountains, the sky
And when she turns around to look at him with those eyes
She does not look into his eyes but deeply into his soul
For Beauty sees everything resplendent within each thing!
After all, she is only a right brain thing, only feelings, perceptions,
The One Who Puts Her Arms Gracefully Around Everything
Who has never felt the sword like penetration of a hard, cold thought

The Beauty & The Beast -
Made for each other, well, yes, sure, exactly, right on, obviously -
Already perfectly aligned within one energy body in “that greater reality”
Where the Beauty and the Beast already reside as husband and wife
Physical union speeding at the fantastical speeds of some astral train
Soon to impact cosmically like two planets fusing one into another
In full blown manifestation here and now upon this dense earthly plane

Short Story: The Universe

(been working this story over a lot getting close here maybe) I cannot account for what others do with their life's energy and I mean this literally because I am more than a little on the Aspergers spectrum. I perceive some people much as I perceive a dog in terms of any true grasp I can manage in understanding of their inner consciousness that is only vaguely, really, having some basic idea what a dog may be interested in, you know? Or, maybe you don't know and you're thinking, “what the hell is this guy talking about?”. Not to cast aspersions but maybe you're a little Aspy, too, man? I think it's a lot more common than people think, myself. The vast majority of us are not so far down the scale as Sheldon on The Big Bang Theory nor so smart … and I think the two do go hand in hand, Aspergers Syndrome and intelligence. Often quirky, savant stuff that weird uncle of whom everyone is always thinking, “why the hell doesn't he go on a game show with his trivia knowledge, he'd make a million!” The Tell is a little nervous tic in lack of social skills or perhaps not even that obvious just random gaps in ability to process certain social interactions properly that to “Normals” are so innate as to lay below the level of conscious thought. You know, when you miss something, you don't know that you miss it? If there's anything that frightens me, it's just that blind thought: “what am I missing!” Not of bodily assault or even cancer but that blind side, man, that blind side that can harbor the next truck that is about to strike me. And I hate being hit by a truck so hard that I don't even think to get the license number. Anyway, I was always looking for God myself. I mean that is what I was interested in and what I was doing mostly. Well, that and romantic love and sure I mixed the two up no bones about it. Goddess worship could not come more naturally to me. I never was much up for sports. I tried to get it up for politics but damn just can't do it I mean I'd rather be poked in the eye with a sharp stick than watch another minute of cable TV News. All that to emphasize that I would have never in a million years figured that The Universe was a “male” entity. But it is what it is.

I found The Universe drinking heavily late one cold winter's afternoon in a dive bar about half way between Santa Fe and Taos, New Mexico near the Rio Grande River. Now of course The Universe is not God but I decided to work my way up the hierarchy, as it were. God in all due time , mind you. It's process. The sunlight outside is preposterously bright but the air is so cold that a half inch of old snow doesn't melt off the cactus even in the full light of the afternoon sun. Inside the bar is dark heated by a wood stove and the air is so bone dry that your nose hairs start to burn after a while and you it's quiet – which I it never is! - you can hear your own skin crinkling up. Anyone who lives here for any length of time ends up with skin looking like worn out leather. The Universe is sitting at the small bar alone big German looking guy mid thirties, I'd guess, running big, bony fingers through his thinning, dirty blonde hair when I first set eyes on Him. I can tell he's not a resident because his skin is smooth as a baby's butt. I set next to Him and introduce myself and The Universe nods and smiles politely, says hello, but does not identify Himself. I tell the bartender to bring two of what He is having and The Universe smiles and overs up a toast, “to you, Mate”. Good thing for me in this one case that I know my alcoholics. The Universe is a morose alcoholic who passes through a euphoric phase, I determine, and I hoped that he was still in the euphoric phase. I was already thinking that when He hit that morose phase, I want to be miles away from this place. After our drinks come, a single malt Scotch, I discover, neat, I ask of Him as casually as I can manage, “so You do a Walk In, did You?” His drink stopped half way up to His lips. I could see calculation flash across His face for just a beat then He said, also non nonchalantly as you please, “suicide case” downing the rest of His drink and slamming it on on the counter, “load me up,” He said to the barkeep in a cheerful, friendly tone. No hint of German in his voice. California, I guessed. I knew then that I had to jump in for The Universe would cross that threshold from euphoria to morose any time now if indeed He hadn't already - “I want to know about God,” I asked, “anything You can tell me?”. He started laughing then coughing so hard that I thought He might throw up then after this paroxysm settled down said, “don't we all, Mate, don't we all”, still apparently amused by my question. “Seriously?” I insisted. Without looking at me then, The Universe said matter of factly, “the closest thing to what you humans conceive of as a “God” is light. Insofar as I could answer such preposterous question, the answer is light. All that you is light. The truth is light just light passing through light, on and on – do you see?” Turning to look at me with those eyes as he asked, “Do you see?” So I asked without missing a beat, “to be clear then, you are not actually saying that light IS God or that God IS light?”. The Universe downed another glass and it hit the thick, wood bar with an empty bang. He just crossed that threshold and I left forthwith, man. I left Him there in the growing shadow cast by the canyon walls around that little dive bar and I hauled as up a short cut I knew on a jeep road that climbed two thousand feet in elevation over a relatively few miles up the eastern escarpment of the canyon where the cold, winter sun now dropping low into the western sky still shown bright. “The closest thing to what you humans conceive of as a God, is light” … it made sense in some way to me that was as of yet far beyond articulation?

Poem Caye Caulker, Belize - 5/26/2015

"Island Paradise" On the outside all light Light surrounding more light Guarded by angels on the outside Blessed by God on the outside On the inside dark and quiet Troubled on the inside and brooding Roiling metamorphic dreaming Eyes closed for the light is blinding!

Trinty Site, New Mexico - Mushrooms and National Monuments

New Mexico? New Mexico? Where the hell do I even start? Such a weird place overall just gives off these Alien vibes, man, very strangle energy I think this is the energy that makes the big haired dude's hair on that Ancient Alien cable show stand up like it does? If a flying saucer were to rise up over a near hill, it'd almost seem like it belonged there ... hard to explain but you stand around alone out in that high desert for a while and you'd see what I mean, man. So I'll start here kind of zoom in past wilderness as sublimely beautiful as any location on earth to the south central area of the state a vast high desert with little standing higher than large bush where to this very day there are precious few humans as you drive for hours sometimes before noticing a driveway leading to a human habitation. Nine inches of rain out here man is all that standing between life in death for an entire ecosystem. Maybe an ecosystem is like an organ in our Great Gaia Mother. So yeah there's that its own rugged beauty I'll give you grudgingly really this place wore on me in ways I never would have anticipated. Walking out anywhere meant coming into contact with a flora and fauna always to me appearing on the verge of death and it made me nervous, man, I'm not gonna lie period. It made me look up at the sky expectantly even though I knew that it had not rained in a month or more and likely wouldn't be raining for another month or so yet. “Dammit man, hang in here, Everybody, it's got to rain eventually” I'd often think like some nervous tic incantation, “Everybody” an inclusive handle covers a lot of ground like every living thing. But I made some peace moved up to 7,000 on the eastern side of the 12,000 Sierra Blanca mountain on a steep mountain in pine forest an oasis of life to me only 130 miles north of the Mexican border. The various mountain ranges would rise here and there throughout the state high enough in elevation to break through the desert climate generation enough moisture to support a predominantly pine forest looking to me at times as tiny islands of life in a vast sea of nearly dying all the time but not cool like the Painted Desert just scrub full of lizards, snakes of all kinds. So off on a road trip from home in Ruidoso, New Mexico to Trinity Site now a nuclear National Historic Landmark, while a very interesting trip geographically, don't get me wrong, it's still through this high desert where much to the lament of my sensibilities is always upon the very lip of death. Driving northwest away from the 12,000 Sierra Blanca meant losing 3000 vertical in elevation over about twenty miles when you can look back up to the top of the mountain back within the one million acre Lincoln National Forest. It looks like something worth of worship there under the nearly always sunny auspices of a New Mexico sun. Here below some hedonist maniacs with tons of cash have built a sprawling suburban infrastructure of streets with electricity and wells and are trying to sell the lots for preposterous sums for land that the BLM can't honestly give away, man. “You get a 20 acre lot!” 20 acres all gasping their last gasp practically just sayin. About l5 minutes from the gate to this Trinity Site Nuclear National Monument, I asked my wife Jana' who is driving if she could pull over. I took out of my shirt pocket 3 dried grams of Psilocybin mushrooms. “I'm going to take this now, OK?” “Seriously?” Jana' asks. “I told you about this last week, Jana'. It's a dirty job but by God it's got to be done. We'll be at the gate in fifteen minutes and I won't start tripping for 40 and it's a small dose, anyway. Not like I'll flip out and embarrass you,” I said as reassuringly as I could trying to exude confidence, never easy for me. “So what then you can through some alchemy or something turn all the negative energy from that bomb into positive … it's that fantasy we're talking about, just to be clear?” “That's the one” I said a little indignantly. “It's a fair plan of noble intent, my Love”. So I ate the three grams as Jana' drives on toward the gate. The government only opens this monument twice a year for the day for public viewing of the site. It was my wife's idea to see the place and in spite of the radiation, I was in immediately. O shit, I thought, THAT sounds really WEIRD! Let's do it! “This is one of the more insane things, Babe,” says Jana' driving. “You get that, right … I hope you do, honestly, Babe, at least appreciate the insanity of it all – are you still with me? “I am here and now more even but here's the thing I know insanity been there, done that, chemical induced by our vaunted psychiatric doctors of medicine but insanity nonetheless. This, this is not insanity at all, Jana'. This is destiny.” By this time the gate came into view my first thought, Damn, you ain't getting into that place. The second that the place was locked up tight and dead empty. Not a soul in sight only lots of very ominous, threatening signs and lots of cameras. “Shit” said Jana' – it must have been yesterday, sorry about that, I had the dates wrong. “No problem, let's go down to the Rio Grande I think there's a nice little place to eat only thirty minutes more off the main road.” Suffice it to say that it hit me in a nice little restaurant in middle of no where along the Rio Grande River, New Mexico. I cried a little, “damn, could have done a lot of good with that energy”. “There there, Babe, it'll be okay” said my wife sincerely reassuring me.

Belizean Magic

I sit and stare a lot at this scene which so far never gets old. Sunlight dances across the sea as it moves overhead from east to west the two of them, sun and sea, endlessly creative in their complex physical interplay. If someone were to ask me, “what are you doing there in Belize?” I would not begin to know how to answer that?

Mostly nothing at all which is what seems to need doing. Mostly just staring at the dancing sun and sea. And I hope healing with this "Belizean Magic" I have heard so much about from those that have benefited from it over their years here. I don't know about you but I can use all the healing I can get, friends.

Believe that.

Caye Caulker, Belize - Morning Coffee

The sun rises behind low clouds every morning that hug the horizon so I don't see the suns orb until it's up a half hour from my perch here about 60 feet from the waters edge and twenty feet up. Our two bedroom apartment is over the Braisas del Mar restaurant. Out front the restaurant has seven tables half with umbrellas for diners on the sand below several coconut palm trees whose fronds rattle under the delightful cudgels of a const...ant sea breeze. I get up early and benefit from the shade provided by the palms until eventually the sun rises high enough to shine directly into my eyes whereupon I retreat having consumed enough coffee by then to ambulate. By about 1:30PM the sun passes through its tropical zenith nearly straight overhead and the eve of the house casts the deck here into a cool, afternoon shade. After walking around the island and returning here, I feel that by luck I have stumbled upon the coolest part of the island here on the windward side facing almost due east into the Caribbean Sea.

I can see the water taxi from here as it makes it's first run of the morning and underneath me on “1st Street” - just a path in the sand mostly trodden barefoot or in sandals with an occasional golf cart – young lovers stroll hand and hand heading toward the Water Taxi each carrying an enormous backpack with snorkeling gear, kite boards and various other paradisiacal paraphernalia.