The World Heard ’Round the World

world

Imagine, said the sage.

We stand on a vast plain covered in feathery grass, and as we look to the west, the Earth continues its relentless rotation toward us; so our star there in space appears to draw closer to the western horizon. Its light filters through the atmospheric dust; there, refracted and reflected, it turns red, orange, pink. It is beautiful; we walk toward the light, the sun, to catch up with it, feeling its brilliance all around us. And we’re running now, the grassy plain speeding by under our feet. The orange sunset now surrounds us like an ocean, and we’re running faster – we hear a laugh escape our chest – now with our arms out as if we might fly.

Imagine, said the sage.

Toward the sunset we’re racing now, the ground under our feet a blur, our legs moving so fast that they, too, are indistinct from pure motion. We reach a moment – transition, transformation, exquisite – we fly now. In the air toward the sun we fly ever faster, and the red and orange again become the white-light essence of our star, as we move faster and faster, transformed now to a state of pure energy, without the need for space or time or life or death.

Imagine, said the sage.

We circle Earth ten thousand times in an instant. We see behind us that we have captured the sun’s light and made it our own, filling our hearts to overflowing with its energy, its benevolence, its sublime will. The Earth now has two suns; one the ancient star, and the second, we, as we illuminate by raw kinesis. Back upon the world our light energy falls, back behind us as we orbit, electron-like, in a cloud of being that can’t be divided, is one. We see without seeing, know without judging: a singularity.

Imagine, said the sage.

And the Earth responds. It wakes up to the sudden thrill of a second sun, this light, this power, energy, harmony and balance. The people are outside looking up toward a brilliant blue sky, blinking, waking from long slumbers, rousing their own memories, perhaps – long-ago hints of what they see now surrounding them. Our own motion now long beyond speed; we sublimate and become pure thought, condensing as rain that falls down upon the uplifted faces. Are we here? they ask themselves. What is this place? say others. Their brows are moist from the rain, and from all forever tears, and from sweat. It perhaps is a new age. An age that has seen our arrival as Earth’s second sun.

Imagine, said the sage.

Shares 0