Where My Pulse Lives

Approach the entrance as if it is a sacred shrine guarded by several battle-worn guards. They stretch to the sky and guard the magic, my pulse within. Price of admission? First, you must be still and quiet your breathing. It is a place of peace, of rhythmic beating of a butterfly’s soul and the music of ants clothed in moss and mushrooms. Can you feel it? If you are found worthy, briers will not bring any harm.

The air is like no other in the galaxy. Open up your lungs and take as much as you can carry with you. Feel it heal your soul, your heart. Move within this wooded womb as inspiration whispers. Over there lies the city of Tun amongst the neon orange and green mushrooms. Let’s sit for a moment and I will tell you about the first time I visited this space.

It was a hot day, heavy with moisture and sadness. My friend had just left this world in a sigh. I wandered outside to exchange the smell of death for anything else. Ahead I spotted a wood that hadn’t been there before. Drawn to its music, I approached the forbidding trees woven with brambles and biting leaves. Tears began to fall from deadened eyes, sadness felt like a insistent foreign growth deep inside me.

I heard branches break and looked up expecting to see the intruder. It was a small black bear with eyes the depth of the ocean. I turned to leave when a voice whispered into my ear, “She will lead you inside, if that’s where you wish to go.” Not caring if it was my sadness or a forest being who whispered, I followed the creature inside.

Spread before me was an emerald sea, above was the ceiling of a cathedral of trees. My guide had disappeared leaving me to stand breathlessly among the wooded giants. The voice whispered once more, “Run if you must, but gather the air here. It will heal and bring you peace.”

Something inside me stirred and I began to run through Her paths and alongside streams. Black shadows merged with green, blue, brown, gold as I matched pace with my pulse. Sadness couldn’t keep up and I could feel it fall far behind me. I shed that skin and stopped in front of a running stream. Time drifted like the clouds hidden above the canopy. I rested within Her. We spoke at times and sleep covered me like a blanket. Here is where my spirit lives, as do I now.

Be on your way now, dear Traveler. Seek your peace within this sacred ground.

Linked to Mid-Week Blues Buster and imaginary garden with real toads

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