-How is she?
-Silence.
*~*
I climbed from the puddle in the forest. It seemed to be the same one from which Puddle and I had left.
He did not climb out with me.
He must have needed to go somewhere else.
My breath stopped.
I loved him. He was gone.
I shook my head. Of all the universes to wander to and from, we had found each other. I trusted we would find each other again. Something cosmic like that wouldn’t keep us apart forever.
I had a job to complete.
Still. I was angry, worried, and liked things on my timeline, so I screamed at the sky. It made me feel better, and I started the trek toward home through the grating sound of heavy machinery.
The news was on when I walked inside. Hunger. Pain. Fighting. Greed. Failed communication. Forget the consequences. Forget the big picture. Everything was meant to be consumed. What broadcast was this? Oi.
I turned off the television.
“Anyone home?”
No answer. Tension rose up my spine, with prickles.
I walked to my room. I went to my bird box. The box was open, with the sage leaves spilling over the side. No coin.
“Anyone home?! Who was in my room?!! Elsie! Kail! I told you!”
I stormed around, flipping, knocking over, searching. I powered up with with rage, and punched a good hole in the wall. Where was it? Where was anyone?
This was too much. I left this planet for reasons, and fumbled through too much healing to have returned. I ran the whole way back to the forest.
The machines kept up with their grating sounds. When I left the forest, my mind had been on the loss of Puddle, and seeing my family again. I saw the machines. They had been busy. They had been busy destroying my sanctuary. Acres had already been murdered. My friends. My tree friends were dead.
A sign said the land was going to be developed. It WAS developed. It had a forest.
“Stop building so much!” I yelled at the sign. “Renovate! We need these trees to live!”
The sign didn’t care.
I ran on until I reached the puddle, and then leapt.
*~*
Puddle’s guilt dripped behind him as he walked along the base of the plateau. Skeletons of dried out juniper watched him with their wary limbs. Memories were placed along the trail he trudged. A stuffed toy lizard. A ceramic cup, cracked by weather. Tarnished, broken jewelry.
He sat on a rock.
Evening approached. It shooed off the heat of the day.
She stepped out from behind a boulder, and hesitated.
He stood and went to her.
“I loved you,” she accused.
“I loved you,” he replied. “But I did not love you in the right way to get married.”
“You loved me,” she accused, slightly differently. “Is that not enough?”
“No,” he replied. “It would have hurt us both more, eventually.”
“You left. That hurt enough. That hurt too much. I hate you now. Or I did. Now, I do not feel much.”
“I wanted the best for you. I also wanted the best for me. I am sorry.”
Her eyes turned indigo. “I wanted you. You were the best for me.”
“I wanted you to be happy.”
“I was going to be happy with you.”
“I wanted you to be happy, but without me. I am sorry.”
“I am sorry, too. I felt so helpless.”
Tears strolled down his cheeks. “This was the last thing I wanted.”
“This was the last thing I wanted.”
“You were so strong. You directed all our games as children. You were so vibrant. I never thought..”
“You never thought it would become too much pressure. I was so alone.”
“I am sorry. I am sorry it got to the point it did, and I left so abruptly. If...”
“Nobody noticed. Nobody at all. I was alone. I could not hold myself up alone. Nobody noticed. Nobody cared.”
“I am sorry. I love you still. You are still my friend. I hope I am yours.”
She looked at him with forgiveness in her eyes, and regret.
She had spent her life bringing people together, but nobody held her together when she needed it most. He looked away and felt for the pebble he had picked up near the Stone Circle on Veorda. It was strength. It was vulnerability. He wanted everything to be ok, but what did it mean to be ok? He looked back up at her.
But she had already turned and started walking toward the boulder. A faint indigo aura surrounded her as she walked. Her form faded before it got to the boulder.
He left the pebble where she faded.
*~*
Lake of Oblivion
I float in this Lake of Oblivion. No future, no past. Just perfect now. Listen to the echoes of sounds long forgotten, lost in a time that never existed. Their purpose is meaningless because all that exists is in this moment. My body registers weightless gravity from all directions, but not the water. I am detached from my body. I fill the entire cavern. I am within the rock walls. Listen. It is here.
A plurality of forces keeps the universe together. The same keeps all universes in their eternal cycles.
A force seeps into their center, all centers. It pushes outward, creating change. If these forces were any less graceful, they would destroy each other in a battle of power. They exist in perfect respect for each other, for the things that each cannot do. They complete each other, even as they compete in their elegant ways. Their complexity is such that we can only understand them in their echoes. They are everywhere.
I sink deeper into myself. My outer shell floats forgotten. My conscious self grows still. Quiet. Finally. True stillness.
See the inner core. It is a nebula. It is a black hole, inescapable, devouring everything that dares come near. It is empty and full, broken and fixed, silent with its immense knowledge. It does not care. It knows what it is, and understands its purpose. It can wait. All time and no time, these are meaningless. It is alone. It sneaks through the cracks, meddling. Searching. Learning. The more it learns, the more it wonders.
It has soul memory. It cares for every lifetime that has gathered information, filling every moment, and still empty as the beginning. Listen.
It is everything you don’t want to imagine, buried deep. It is everything you never faced. It is anxiety, a cosmic fear. You don’t face it, not because you don’t know how, but because getting near causes you to face your secrets, your memories. You’re okay with the ones you remember, even the awful ones. These. These. These, you know are there, but you convince yourself the other ones never happened. Simple. Safe.
Explore.
They tear you to pieces. Your limbs are ripped from your torso, bones crack, skin stretches and opens to show tendons that make a last valiant effort to hold you together. You would cry out, but you have no throat. You have no body. You exist in naked emptiness.
If there was a breeze, it would be cold. But there is nothing. Just you.
Alone.
Wait.
A distant spark of love flickers. It smells of true orange blossoms and hemlock. It is within you. Feel it. Your body pieces back together. That love. It burns. It grows, licking across your fingers, scorching your toes. Its epicenter is your navel, too bright to watch. It is pure power. It rises up your spine. You feel it crawling through your middle. It pours from your palms, and makes your cranium glow like a Samhain squash. It explodes from your every pore, cleansing the darkness as well. Pure. Love.
You grow dim.
The love remains, but the darkness returns. It is a darkness at peace with itself. It forgives and learns. It has more wisdom than for what it gets acknowledged. It protects. You see it is you, and you are safe within yourself.
The darkness is a blanket.
I open my eyes. I float in this Lake of Oblivion.
The echoes are comforting. They seem familiar now, and their babbling has meaning. A d
rip repeats itself. Its ripples grow.
Forget. Conscious. Float.
*~*
Puddle hugged his family goodnight. They had feasted, and laughed through the evening. But he had a task. He explained his task. They were not happy, but they understood.
He peered into the basin of his family’s water alter. It was the same water from which he had reentered his world. The water was clear. It lacked a reflection. If he asked just as clearly, perhaps the right reflection would answer.
“I need to go to Earth,” he implored. “I need to go to Birch’s house. Please.”
He stepped in with powerful intentions, and sunk.
He rose from the portal and found himself in the same area he and Birch had left Earth. Caht was waiting.
“She is not here,” Caht informed Puddle. “Beppu is searching for her.”
“Let us go to her house. We can explain everything to her family so they do not worry,” Puddle suggested.
Caht flicked an ear that said he knew that was a bad idea, but ok. Do what you want.
Elsie and Kail were throwing stones at a stump in front of the house. Mae watched them over a magazine. Her eyes turned to stare at Puddle as he walked up.
“Hello,” said Puddle. “I am a friend of Birch.”
“She never mentioned you before.”
“She never mentioned you either.”
“She ran away with you, didn’t she?”
“We have been on a journey. We have to arrange a meeting.”
Mae turned back to her magazine. Kail ran over.
“Angry!” he said.
“What is angry?” asked Puddle.
“Angry in garden. Rar rar rar rar,” he continued as he walked away.
Puddle followed Kail to the garden. Caht walked the other way.
The plants in the garden were in disarray, like they had entirely too much life in them and were choking each other out.
Kail sat down in the gazebo. Puddle sat too.
Kail swirled sand around and uncovered a coin.
He handed it to Puddle.
*~*
I am nudged roughly.
I splash and splutter as my body fails to stay afloat on its own.
“Beppu. What happened? I feel I was part of something significant. I must have thought of something interesting. I wish I could remember.”
“Your presence is requested in your garden,” rumbles Beppu. “However, you may float here for all of eternity. The choice is yours.”
“I had a task.”
“To fulfill that is also your choice.”
“It is nice here.”
“Yes.”
“What should I do?”
“That is not for me to answer. I only came to wake you up for a second. You may choose to go back to floating.”
“Beppu. The love. It’s everywhere.”
“There are a lot of things that are everywhere.”
“Hmm. Take me to the garden, please. I have something to do.”
*~*
Elsie ran over with a couple of sticks.
“Let’s battle!” she challenged.
“Raaaaar!” answered Kail.
Puddle held Crataegus. It buzzed in his palm.
Birch’s siblings bashed at each other around the garden.
“Hey!” Puddle called to break their attention. “Check this out.”
He picked up three rocks from under the gazebo, and tossed them in the air. Elsie and Kail dropped their sticks.
“Can we do that?” asked Elsie.
“We can practice,” answered Puddle. “Let us start by finding a rock about this size. Toss it straight up. Catch it. Get your muscles comfortable with that motion.”
“I like this rock,” said Kail.
“Me too,” said Elsie. “I want that rock.”
“Do you like any of the other rocks?” asked Puddle.
“No.”
“What about this one?” Puddle stooped to pick up a rock.
“That one is ok. I guess.”
“Here. Try it out.”
*~*
“Hello Caht,” greeted Nimupara.
He flicked his tail.
“Are you ready to watch this?”
He flicked his tail.
“Beppu is going to join us as soon as she sends Birch back to Earth.”
He flicked his tail.
They peered into the pool. An image formed.
*~*
Birch rose from a puddle. Her feet felt Beppu’s shell until everything above her ankles was in the air. Then, she stood upon wet leaves. Her feet carried her past the demolition of the forest. They carried her past the powerlines full of grumbling electricity. They carried her past Mae, who did not look up from her magazine.
Birch walked to her garden. She heard the plants whisper. They spoke of a force that was building up with energy.
It will overflow, they cried. We are already exhausted!
Puddle exited the greenhouse. Elsie and Kail tossed a rock back and forth as they followed close behind.
Puddle looked at Birch. They had magnets in their eyes, and smiled sunbeams at each other. A leap later, their hug sent waves of love through the town. Their embrace hummed louder than the powerlines.
Puddle handed Crataegus to Birch.
She removed Quercus from her pocket.
She placed both coins on the floor in the center of her gazebo.
The Earth heaved. The ground rose like the moon reaching for coffee.
It drank her down. Puddle ran forward, but it was too late.
The hill began to stand.
Salix grew out of the garden. Its body kept rising as it sprouted tendrils of roots for legs.
The creature towered over the houses. Chunks of dirt fell off as it tested its mobility.
Salix started walking down the road. Each step caused fruit trees and shrubs to sprout in its wake. Flowers spread from its path. If it paused too long, it had to tear its rooty legs from the ground because of all the plants.
Someone called the officials in order to control the creature. Sirens screamed like a sea of babies that couldn’t explain what they needed, and they needed it bad.
A cacophony of barking dogs rivaled the sirens.
The officials attempted to restrain whatever it was. The thing was destroying all that the city and its people had done to make society happen. It crushed cars and sidewalks. An upside down waterfall erupted when it hit a fire hydrant. Mailboxes, garbage cans, and bike racks were all susceptible to its steps.
Guns fired. Ropes were thrown. The neighbors ran out with chainsaws. The thing had to be stopped.
Salix sensed the fear. One of its eyes proposed a more dramatic rampage. The other eye proposed attempting calm conversation. It was a creature of balance, so it did both, and neither.
The ruptured fire hydrant was filling the street with puddles. Salix blinked its eyes off. Crataegus fell through one puddle. Quercus fell through another.
Salix took a nosedive to the ground, with the grace of a ballerina made of bricks. As it rolled, its body broke apart. Each chunk awoke the Earth, and caused more plants to sprout. Salix’s broken pieces woke up the voice of the Earth that development had silenced.
The thing about those who have had their voices silenced was that they tended to find even more powerful voices. Their voices knew the pain of neglect. Their voices remembered the disapproving stares that said over and over, you don’t belong. Sometimes, those voices found momentary power in causing more pain, but that just flipped the table of discontent. Other times, those voices took it upon themselves to trudge through the messy path of healing, and found their power through love, forgiveness, ancient roots, and connection. And when those voices sing, their song recreates a world of pure beauty, far more powerful than ever before.
The Earth began to sing. The planet of Earth was one of the most healing forces ever. It could be a wild place. Natural disasters did not think they were disasters, just natural.
At the same time, the Earth loved. Its very nature transmuted pain to love.
The lyrics of the Earth were plants, mountains, canyons, seas, and deserts. It sang of fresh water and air for all to thrive. Sun, snow, rain, and sand. And love.
Puddle ran to the fallen Salix. He had lost Birch. He tossed about limbs, roots, and clods of fresh soil in his search. A pile of leaves sat in the place where Salix’s heart would have been. The pile coughed, then rustled.
Birch unburied herself from the pile of leaves, and wiped dirt from her face. Puddle stumbled over, and each engulfed the other in a hug.
Birch opened her fist to Puddle. Picea rested inside. They felt the song of balance coming from the metal, reverberating with the song of the Earth. They looked into each other’s eyes, and saw the power of those songs. They saw struggle turn to respect, turn to cooperation.
And they began to sing.
They saw the world change as they sang, and others joined in. Human environment and nature environment became inseparable. They sang of a living, organic machine where all the cogs turned together, and each knew how much it meant. They sang the forest and the trees. They sang of true love, and safe, sacred spaces, where hearts could practice being open and vulnerable. They reached down to the deepest parts of their hearts and their souls, and sang words that hadn’t been heard in eons, but which everyone understood. Their sounds reached into the beauty all around them, inviting it to play in the joy of existence.
Acknowledgments and About
Thank you,
Susan Steffel for your passion concerning education, literacy, and literature, and that you assigned the project that turned into this book.
Norma Bailey, Penny Lou Lew, and Elizabeth Brockman for creating beautiful changes in the lives of students and teachers.
Ari Berk and Kristen McDermot for your words, both in books and face-to-face. Your lives of lore disperse inspiration around the world.
Patti Travioli for listening to the plants, and being ahead of the game.
Project Guttenberg for listing Arthur O’Shaughnessy’s poem, Ode, and for having many other wonderful public domain books.
Everyone at Starwood Festival for creating a magical, creative, healing community.
Writers everywhere, and anyone who feeds hearts and minds through creative pursuits. Keep on.
Plants. Without you, we would all be dead.
Lucy Bozzi, my co-editor and co-seeker, and Michael Bozzi, who was a steady rock through it all.
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