DISCLAIMER: I don't own any HDM stuff; blah, blah, blah.
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LOVE'S ZENITH
Life flows.
Those who know how to look can see it all around. Thought and wisdom move in great cycles, falling and rising in the sky, souring in a great unimaginable Dance.
It's golden light settles on beings of thought, gathering around curiosity, wisdom, awareness, and love. Especially love.
On this day, this sacred day of seasons–when the Warrior Sun reaches it's peak and height–this Solstice of summers, such an attraction is displayed in a city of Man.
In two of the uncountable numbers of worlds, there stands an ancient, rustic garden of botanic beauty. Overgrown with unweeded plants and invading vines, the ancient brick paths and walls stood–in both worlds–as a last fortification of wilderness in the sprawls of Man.
When the Sun's path reached it's zenith, the rusted iron of both gates creaked open in screeching protest. From different paths, two children entered the garden. Waves of golden light flowed off of them, trailing behind in their wakes.
Beside each child walked another, one a large cat, the other a small, lithe beast of the wood. Unlike the children, these beasts seemed to be made of the golden light, rather than surrounded by it.
As the children and their companions drew closer together, an interplay began. Tendrils of the golden light from the boy and girl reached out toward each other, striving to touch. But as close as they were, they still could not connect... yet.
Great, deep bronze bells began to tone out the hour:
One...Two...Three...
The figures grew closer together, and golden essence began to throb from them, beating to the sound of the great bells.
...Four...Five...Six...
The pulses of life pound and quicken like a beating heart.
...Seven...Eight...Nine...
As the two paths begin to merge, the children meet at an ancient wooden bench under a sprawling oak. They stand side by side while the beat speeds like a racing heart.
...Ten... Eleven...
The boy standing on the left of the bench, the girl on the right, they turn, facing toward the wall, bending over to sit on the wooden seat. The two golden creatures sit before them, laying their bodies down. The beat is a rush now, unstoppable and blurred past return.
...Twelve.
As the twelfth bell tolled, the two children sat upon the frame. Sitting side by side, the golden auras became one, merging together in a bright corona of love and life. At the same time, the cat and marten lay on the path, their bodies folding in on each other, though never truly touching. On all four sets of lips, loving warm smiles spread, as if joy had wrapped them in a blanket, covering them from head to toe.
Above them all, in the sheltering arms of the oak, another figure stood. Her frame was beyond comprehension–tall, elegant, and ever shifting. She was unlike the children below her, or even the golden beasts, for she wasn't just made of the golden Dust, she was the Dust. It flowed from her like mist from a foggy crag. It danced and twirled with the wind, spread out like the leaves, sank into the Earth itself.
Gaia smiled as she watched these two no-longer-children embrace across the worlds. After a moment or two, she raised her arms and face to the sky, silently summoning the elements to her will.
About her, the gentle breeze grew into a gust, whirling around the children and daemons below–blessing them in some long-lost tongue–then turning back, up to The Mother.
As the wind danced below her, Pangaia Allmother spread her arms, her fingers growing into feathers, her frame shrank and shifted, becoming more stream-lined and compact.
The winds lifted her up, high into the air, and The Mother rode them with the same incredible grace as she walked the Earth.
And so it was, that at the moment of the Sun's highest and brightest point, the love of Adam and Eve reached its Zenith, as well.
But to those who had not the Sight, it was only a boy or a girl, sitting on an old bench, while a dove flew high into the air.
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I'm much better at this without conversation–as you can tell. Please review!
