Monday, February 7, 2011

Kaleidoscopic Eyes

Kaleidoscope: a tube containing mirrors and pieces of colored glass or paper, whose reflections produce changing patterns that are visible through an eyehole when the tube is rotated. • [in sing. ] a constantly changing pattern or sequence of objects or elements

Day 59 : Green

A million tiny mirrors cut into various triangular shapes. Little silver prisms reflecting and refracting the purity of white light and altering its rays to blue and green. A green so vibrant it looks like an emerald. Not just any, but those exquisite, precious gems mined in Colombia. So rare and thus highly prized for their transparency and a unique six-pointed star pattern that shimmers like green flames. An outer rim of a blue so beautiful the Sky herself is is forced to bow her head to something superior to even her limitless cerulean beauty. And when placed side by side; liquified  pools of a glowing turquoise light. Like looking up from the depths of the Caribbean Sea while the suns rays shine down on the waves creating a dance of sparkling diamonds. And yet, soundless. Like the peaceful quiet that exists on the cusp of conciousness just before you wake up from a deep sleep. I know that in reality there were several voices speaking, singing, cussing, laughing loudly, yet in the time and space that was my reality for those few sacred moments.....inaudible stillness. Thinking back, I remember the words, "you're actually here" drifting by like irridescent bubbles lightly tickling my skin. I don't think I actually smelled or tasted anything at all. But if I did, it would have been the deeply spiritual scent of Mid-night Mass. The dark, intoxicating aroma of a fine Australian Shiraz mixed with warm vanilla and cinnamon. Or a crystal snifter of Hennesy on a cold, rainy night while taking in the smoke rising from the molten hot coals of cedar smoldering in a fireplace. And the feeling.....that was.....almost ethereal, esoteric.  Like being a weightless cobweb blowing in the wind. Just a floating,  silvery stream of silk. The silk woven into the gowns worn by saints and angles as they often pass unseen on this Earthly plane. And then that white heat. So hot it could dissolve any object that dared pass by. Glowing, shinning, a crown jewel. One so unique and rare, it could only have been a gift reflected from the crown of the Blessed Mother Herself. In that moment, I was absolute StarLight itself, and I had never felt more beautiful or any more special than I did at that moment in my entire life. And I may not ever again.

I always wonder what colour your eyes are. But this is how I see them.
You know who you are....

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