Otherworldly Music

It was your childhood.

Listen to us and cease weeping. You were granted one small indulgence because you wanted to know love. Initially we refused your request, but your persistence moved us. We froze everything that you were, your magnificence and brilliance put on hold so you could sip her kisses and feast on the gleam of her passionate eye. This small human meant more to you than all else. Very well, we said. We pitied you. Out here, you are very powerful. Very big. Love is as irrelevant here as hyphens and party hats. Perhaps you needed a short diversion.

Now that you have returned, you must open your eyes and remember your vastness and power. We wait for you to turn back to the whirling universe and the dimensional towers. We understand that once in an eon you may tire, closing your eyes again and sliding through a crack of memory. You may steal around to the back steps where she dropped a love letter she hadn’t expected you to find, and remember how it felt to furtively hold her as she traced the lines in your face. You were big then, too, with armies and entourages.

We agree: it would be a shame to forget your childhood. But you must remember that you are grown now. You have responsibilities; the towers grow cold without you.

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Musical Inspirations: the entire Bat For Lashes album “Two Suns” and a very sad dream I had.  Bat for Lashes makes me think and feel at the same time.  Simple words, but it’s actually high praise for music, which tends to fall in one camp or the other.

Photo “Roman Marbles in the Prado” by Tasitch.

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On a windy autumn night of my childhood, I dreamed that a tall young man opened a door in a tree for me  A dim blue light enveloped the stairs that led down the tree trunk  Uncertain but unwilling to turn away, I stepped inside  The cool air smelled of earth and rain, and my feet balanced on steps of thick roots  I held my hands over my eyes and peeked through my fingers, counting the steps as I descended

One step
“He loves me.”
Two steps
“He loves me not.”
Three steps
“God’s Heaven.”
Four steps
“The Devil’s Grave.”
Five steps
“I’m awake.”
Six steps
“I’m a dream.”

And below was a wide tiled room with a rumpled bed and a window  Outside, the afternoon sun fell on the deserted highway, grass thrusting through cracked concrete  A red fox paused to cock its head at me before padding away, momentarily interested and summarily disappointed at the swirl of nonsense consciousness in the window  That is, me.

The young man watched from the bed as I climbed out the window to my Yellow Brick Road, gray concrete under cartoon shoes.

When I was seventeen, I found a book by Harlan Ellison and Jacek Yerka in a used bookstore  Inside, I saw the tree, the blue light, and the stairs, and then I knew that I had dreamed someone else’s dream again.

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Musical Inspiration: “Daniel” by Bat for Lashes.  I’ve waxed on about Bat for Lashes before.  And yes, this is a true story. The actual Jacek Yerka painting I’m referring to is called “Amok Harvest”, albeit with the stairs leading up, not down. It’s available at his online gallery.

Image “Tree and Blue Sky” found at Lawoflaws.com but I’m not sure who the original artist is.

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