Review Summary: And your very flesh shall be a great poem....
And the Creator speaks to man, but doesn't use any words. At the flowing dawn, the Universe represents itself and eternity's all passion and beauty flows into Evermore. The hearts will dies, love will drowns in moments and nature conjures with the pulsation of dying stars. Eternal turn of the wheel… When the wind cries, the tears of Doves will be the redemption of our souls. The sky will open and as the cries of the lost souls light the air with ascension. The world will turn on its axis, forever revolving, an endless circular path towards the destiny of material existence. It forebodes the fate of man, his journey to the stars and beyond.
I took a walk that fateful day. It was a pensive journey; in solitude I pondered the clandestine mechanics of the universe, for they eluded me like some fleeting maiden whose skin was as soft as the winter's first snow. I turned the bend, a copse of trees draped in the silken gown of Mother Nature's cold breath fell before me and I continued on, wrapped within my thoughts, too engrossed in contemplation to observe with the fervor my lustful maiden required. She was the jealous kind, but her jealousy only kindled the fire that was my unending passion and ignited in me a conflicting amalgamation of pain and divine elation that one can barely begin to describe with the frail framework of words. I failed to pay heed to the panorama before me, one that would ultimately wring from the Earth an end to my quest.
I looked up with the utmost sense of surprise to find the portrait of a horned forest dweller standing gently in my path. So startled was I that my mind failed to perceive the simple beauty that stood before me. It was if I was suddenly plucked from existence and placed in between the sensual brush strokes of an architect of divine mastery. We stood for many seconds and delved deep into each other's very souls. There was no apprehension between us, no fear and no doubt that each would honor his pledge to gaze only in inquisition, never to grasp forth in aggression or malice. Perhaps it was this unbreakable concentration that ultimately caused the next event to transpire, for looking back I cannot rightly explain. This image was shattered in an instant, and my reverie broken from the crystal it has been encased in.
A lurking fiend, wrapped in a thick coat of fur and hunger, launched from the copse and drove its fangs deep into the neck of this majestic horned beast. It ripped and tore and shred with great fervor, not in malice but with instinct. I watched as the entrails of my transcendent counterpart spilled out before me in a display of raw gore and gleeful killing joy. The deer did not last very long, and was soon laying lifeless in a pool of its crimson soul. Steam escaped from the wounds into the cold winter air and began to take shape and form. Time slowed and I began to perceive shapes against the gray backdrop, sensual lines that neither took form nor were altogether formless.
I courted their fancy with my own breath, constructing questions without wanting answers. She was there then, and relayed thoughts I had already come to know. She whispered in my ear of the fate of the poor animal soul that being torn from the Earth piece by piece before me. She explained the beauty which some may never come to know. It was a beauty that was shrouded in the crystal that covered every man's visage. The color was different, and man could not be blamed; but surely many were less because of their failure to clear the fog from the morning's dew. I saw then what I had come to seek, the answer to my questions. I saw my own fate, the fate of others, and the fate of the world. It was terrifying and calming all at once, and I could not stray away from the path. As the world turns as its axis, so does life, and so on, ever more.
The eternal turn of the wheel…
