Monday, June 29, 2009


I stand in the disappearing shade of a tree. The light smell of forthcoming rain sprinkles it’s earthen and fresh sent across my path. The air is thick. The humidity seems to weigh everything down and slow everything up. Its intensity is almost felt in the subtle electrical energy surfacing between the dense oxygen partials. The sound of the gurgling river below me sounds distant through the fog-like air.There’s a darkness fermenting to the West, over the mountains, and the future-minded sun has retreated to the open skies of the east. A thin veil of grey is slowly advancing down the slope towards the river and me. I close my eyes.There is the sound of thunder. Yet, the sound is cut short, lost in translation between its sources and my ears. It, somehow, swallowed in the ever-dampening world surrounding me. For all its deafness, the atmosphere has amplified the reverberations, which shake and roll as if I were standing in the front row of a hip-hop show. It swells over the top of me in an onslaught of amplitude and bass.

Grrrrrrrrrr!…The shade is gone and I stand alone facing, eyes closed, a charged world. This is a lost battle, one I have lost before. However, here I stand half-knowing what is coming. I search the ensuing surge, the drop into an engulfing blackness, the tumultuous summersault into the space in-between claps of sound and flashes of blinding light, an unknown gravity pulling the shreds of my soul apart, then silence, the drip of life and the lightness of being, a world washed clean…BOOM

The first drops of rain stun my eyes awake. Flaring open, they are greeted by the sound of soaking deep colors, made ever-deeper from the immersing effects of fallen sky-water. The clash of thunder over head and the bright snaps of light surround me. There is nowhere to hide, nowhere to find shelter. Solace is only found in the breath. It is only found in the slow, rhythmic art of exhaling.


The rain falls steadier and harder and the lightning is closer and the thunder grows louder. Eyes wide open you whisper, “Find it.”Find it in the falling glass shards of oblivion. Find the meaning in the myst the wraps itself around you. You barely understand liberation is so close. Only hidden behind the false walls of your eyes.

BOOM!The wind is wailing and I’m soaked through. Visible heat rises off my shoulders and bare head. I struggle to keep my breathing regular. A steady stream drips off my nose on to my dark shirt. I see the river in front of me but it is mute, only the sound of falling water striking the ground beneath me reaches me.

CRACK!The sound of ancient times before there was iPods and stylish laptop computers, smart phones and PSPs. An ancient man sits listening to the beat of storms dancing on the plains. He soon rises and disappears behind a green tapestry full of elephants. These elephants are beginning to dance too.

When he returns he holds a thick wooden drum. He sits down and begins to tickle the faded tight skin. There is a faint whisper, which breaks into a slow soulful resonance.

His eyes open, he watches the organic parade outside and strokes his hands to their murmurs.“Buuuum…bummm…bhat…biddy…bhat…buuuum…bummm.” It says.He stops, listening in.“Buuuum…bummm…bhat…biddy…bhat…buuuum…bummm….bhat.
”There is a roll.“Ksssssssssssssssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhh.”.”“Buuuum…bummm…bhat…biddy…bhat…buuuum…'bummm.”“Ksssssssssssssssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhh.”.”“Ksssssssssssssssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhh.”He stops to notice the storms are picking up speed and intensity.“BUM…BUM…BHAT… KSSSSSHHH …BHAT…BUM…KSSSSSHHH”It repeats but louder,“BUM!…BUM!!…BHAT!!!!…KSSSSSHHH…BHAT!!!!…BUM!…KSHHHHH”’“BUM!!...BHAT!!!!!!KSHHHHHHHH...”“…BHAT!!!!…”“…BHAT!!!!…”“…BHAT!!!!…”“…BHAT!!!!…”

He closes his eyes. His hands have their master now.

“Buuuum…bummm…bhat…biddy…bhat…buuuum…bummm.”Grrrrrrrrrr“Buuuum…bummm…bhat…biddy…bhat…buuuum…bummm….bhat.”BOOM“BUM…BUM…BHAT… KSSSSSHHH …BHAT…BUM…KSSSSSHHH”FLASH“BUM!…BUM!!…BHAT!!!!…KSSSSSHHH…BHAT!!!!…BUM!…KSHHHHH”’BOOM!“BUM!!...BHAT!!!!!!KSHHHHHHHH...BHAT!!!!…BHAT!!!!…BHAT!!!!…BHAT!!!!…”


Time skips as drum finds hand, and hand finds drum. A slap echoes through the echelons and cavities of hours, days and years. It leaps through space and lands at its mark, with a young man standing soaked under a tree.“SLAP…..BOOM…..CRACK!”For a mere second past becomes present and both old and young find they are one in the same.There is a seeping light on the horizon. It is clear and bright.

It cuts effortlessly into my vision. The fog has lifted and the dense electricity has given way to a weightless clarity. Raindrops shimmer in the purity of its shine. The thunder quickly fades into the east. I stand holding my breath, unwilling to ruin the fragile moment.More sunlight now and the sound of birds finding their way back into the limbs above me. The river has regained its voice and is gurgling below me.

There is a soft crunch as I take a step soon followed by another. A new day has dawned in the middle of another, but just as with the previous there is precious little time for me to waste.


Vincent Truman said...

Stolen from:

Angela Chapman said...

You have GOT to be kidding me! This Rinrin person is stealing blogs from so many people! Are any of the blogs posted in the abundance of life truly written by Rinrin? I highly doubt it.