I live among mountains shrouded at their peaks in willow-wisps clouds of translucent filaments drifting and swirling in the light of crisp sunny days. From my distance view, their rocks, boulders and hard-scrabble brown shrubs give them the allure of adventure to be lived; yet harbor mysteries that hold the promise of unseen danger that will thrill and frighten one to the core. Patches of green run like trails along ledges curving and dipping in patterns like quilts made of fabric salvaged from discarded pieces of life to live again.
My mountains stir my imagination beyond all reason. I long for them to rumble and shake, kicking up dust; tossing off deep-time; eons – epochs of debris to finally be trumpeted to life fulfilling their destiny and birth the horrors locked within them bringing chaos and mayhem to the world beyond all reason.
I imagine some deep-space, alternate universe life-forms left on our “Blue Marble” world quad-trillions of years ago to walk among us; to pierce the nighttime sky with blazed-red eyes that burn the very air we breathe; to set us afire – to drive us huddled, desperate, ragged and wild-eyed running headlong to God-knows-where; trying to escape the hell on our earth these creatures would unleash.
In their out-of-this-world hunger, we would be carbon-based units that come in flavors.
Why you ask should it be unbridled evil? Could not my mountains harbor truth, beauty – goodness seeded from some long-perished galactic race? It could. Honestly, I would love my “mountains of imagination” to stir up that angelic dream; but that wouldn’t get our collective brain waves firing and flowing into a total mind shift. It would be too easy: new souls given to us on a golden platter. We humans have proven over and over again that we need something more to hardwire all that truth, goodness and beauty into us so it would last more than a few lifetimes. That’s why, and this is just one CBU’s opinion, shared trials and tribulations; dread and despair, hardships untold and fraught with fright knowing that as a species we could damn near go extinct – well, I think we would forever set aside petty differences and finally recognize our oneness.
That’s why my mountain of imagination delivers to me a trial of fire as the ideal ordeal.
Think about it: mountains have always shaped our tiny human lives in ways profound. They have changed the weather making some places green with plenty; while other lands drown in dry sand or are frigid icy, snowy worlds. These “rock of ages” have forced us to travel around them – fear them. We worship mountains; contemplate our “humanist” in caves dug in their sides. And yes, mountains have driven us to conquer them to test our determination to survive against a foe raised from the very core of our world.
That’s why when my mountain of imagination takes hold, it goes dark, deep and delivers a deadly world of hostile hope. Only then, after we have purged our fear of ourselves – and vanquished those demon monsters risen from an “nth” dimension, will we truly be ready to reshape our world; and open our hearts and minds to the true destiny of mankind: the everlasting embrace of the truth, beauty and goodness that is our birthright.
Until then, I guess my mountain of imagination is just wishful thinking.
“There are many paths to the top of the mountain, but the view is always the same.”
— Chinese Proverb
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