Origins II

From afar, a green sea; up close, a twisted snarl of brittle waves. textured walls reach out and oppress mildew whips of flora flotsam fauna jetsam in my face echoing shadows follow in waking eddies shrill light on a myriad of eyelids that flutter as I pass. MY BROTHERS. blind fingertips of rain stream in my eyes, as cacophonous shadows lead me through improbable passages the naked eye cannot discern; bathed in clarion surges of gold, a seabed of mist reflected from the deep. This is the cauldron... my arms reach out painfully to scoop up blind tears in the green sea, but a faceless monstrosity wails in solitude, denser and denser as I go, oppressed heartbeat of light through tall trees. Breathless, bursting, cords of light fall from the heights, he then fell and his eyes filled with sand. MY BROTHERS --- there cannot be one when there is one because without two, there are no numbers, and the one is no one and everyone --- fraternal eternal -- and rebirth billows through the mist in a distant voice, beckoning me on. The Cauldron...