Dienstag, 6. September 2011

The cry of the rocks

I dream.

I am a rock upon a hill. A rock I am, and the celestial tides wash over my rough and scarred body, day and aeon alike, like wind and rain and snow and sun.

Thus a figure came to me, burning bright, dressed in her own nudidity as in a mantle of power, crowned with stars. And she reached with her hand inside her chest, and from her heart she took a harp, and she struck it ever so gentle.

And I cried up to the sky.

"What do you cry, rock amongst rocks?", she addressed me and I spoke:

"Your song it is that made me cry. The violent flames are in it, and the fury of lust, and the feverish longing that cannot be stilled. But playing it you did not, for it was your song. Tell me, great one, which kind is it, that song that is reason for the cry of the stones?"

"I am the reason for the cry of the stones. I am the song of furious longing, of the violence of the flames. I am the wind in the fire, the fever and the storm; I burn with my own violence, and desire is my name."

And a second time she took out her harp and struck it with a hand ever so gentle. The stars turned in their circles, and the rivers flowed to sea. Trees grew, and they bore fruit, and they fell, and they died. Things were given its place, and things were given their name. Male and female danced a dance and from that sprang the hunt and life, and merridom and the power to build. The earth turned on hinges of unseen forces, and on its hinges spells were set.

And I roared, roared up to the sky.

"What do you cry, rock amongst rocks?", she asked again.

"Your song it is that made me roar. Up and down and the dance of stars, man and woman, the gentle deer and the hunter in the woods, the fulfiment and the marriage, and the tides of the law. But playing it, you did not. What kind is it, the song that is the reason for the cry of the stones?"

"I am the reason for the roaring of the stones. I am the fulfilment and the hunt, I am the marriage and the force of coherence. I am the song that moves the earth on its hinges, balance and off-balance. Love it is that I am called."

And a third time she took out the burning harp, and she played the void behind the stars, the dark paths of forces unknown to man. So high her tune climbed, and so low into the abyss that no being dared to look into. Five stones build hundred twenty houses, but terror strtuck me along with unspekable joy. The stars were flaming serpents on a corral of satin emptiness, planets were born and died and were born again, universes came to being and subsided again into the darkness, and above all this ever so gentle she played her roaring song. The sun was her footrest and the moon a sparkle of her hair, and on and on she played. She played things being and things long dead, and beings born and dying soon....

And I hushed.

"What do you be silent, rock amongst rocks?" she asked.

"Your song it was that makes me fall in silence. The universe you played and you played the soul of the universe. But you did not play it. What kind it is, the song that is the reason for the silence of the rocks?"

"I am the song that is the reason for the hush of the rocks. Love and longing, desire and the roaring lust, the hunt and the feast and yet the soul of the universe on high. I am the song of the stars, of birth and death, of war and peace, of blossom and rot. Ver-iugos I am called, viriditas and agape, but none of these names applies to me. I am the path through the song of the abyss and the cliffs of death are but a note in my song."

And I fell silent, through aeons, a rock amongst rocks.

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