Once the feeling of pure and emptiness immersed into her
being, she felt weightlessness. Her body elevated as she flew alongside a
majestic egret, its rich white body with its wide wingspan gliding with her,
guiding her above into the ether. A fleeting thought crossed Rosa’s mind, a
confusion of whether her body or was it her soul that had taken flight. She
looked below and saw the white hair woman sitting by the willow alone, her
angelic smile pasted upward as she waved toward the sky. With another blink of
her eye, the scene below transformed.
Rosa noticed the sun had disappeared as magically as it had
appeared while the ground below morphed. She couldn’t quite see below the haze,
like steam, moisture seemed to rise up from the ground. She spotted tips of
trees and grayness of entrails that seems to project out from them. A slight
shift in the wind and an opening revealed the scene below.
Dull water
surrounded the terrain, vegetation rising from within and around it, high and
low, vibrant green to murky gray. Cypresses stood firmly on solid ground,
ancient in their stance, bent low with age toward the water as they dipped
their hair in or extended their feet-like roots out for sustenance of that we
call life. Alligators climbed up and around the roots to laze before diving
back into the shallow depths of the nourishing swamp.
The egret guided her back down, to land at the feet of a
primeval Cypress whose gray, leafless hair poured down on all sides. Rosa’s
wingless, formless being burrowed against its trunk, her knees pulled up into
her chest as she nestled in the web of tree hair. She saw the egret take
flight, its regal form traversing the sky. The mighty Cypress bent a little
lower, as if to better hear the whispered confusions that escaped Rosa’s lips.
A wisp of her hair entangled with a tendril as she felt an unknown force enter
her. All consciousness, emotions dissipated as if her Self never existed. Her
formless form felt fluid, fused with the force and energy here and there and
everywhere, a particle, an atom, many atoms, timeless in motion and still in
concert. The unbeing of a being, the unsoul of Self, the
unconscious of all that is perceived.
Pitter patter of rain continued its trickle outside the
window as Rosa opened her half-closed eyes. Her lotus positioned body faced the
white wall, her cheeks sticky and wet. She stood up slowly to face the far side
of her room and looked at the picture by her bedside. Her baby, the beautiful
black Labrador smiled back with an angelic smile from behind the frame.
The End
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