| The Rapids: Spinning |
| The forest is dense, a kaleidoscope of green ands hadows; great trees form a ceiling that breaks the light into small beams and splashes. The path under your feet is sure, but vines, leaves and branches touch you as your pass, no matter how you step. A small clearing breaks, only large enough for you to stand free; it seems to be in deference to the largest tree you've ever seen. A behemoth with whitened, worn bark that stretches so far above the canopy that you're not even sure you can see the top. At its base is a large plant whose roots seem to wrap around the tree and under foot... as if the clearning was declared its terrirotry. The heart shaped leaves are a deep emerald green that seem too lush in the shadow, too bright, as if light were whining fromthem instead of upon them. Your eye catches a movement at the heart of the plant, a shimmer of blue, orange and pale green, a whispering of gossamer, and your realize the plant is moving on its own -- there is no breeze. A dragonfly burst forward, hovers before you, and returns to the plant; before your eyes it becomes a flower, drooping petals of violet and crimson. Complelled to watch you stand for an unkown time, and thent he flower trembles, melts into a dusky brown, and there is a porcupine before you, nestled beneath one large leaf. "Go on, sit down," It advises, twitchin its nose, "before you topple over on top of me -- that wouldn't be comfortable for either of us." You sit, sinking into the roots, they almost seem to cradle you. The leaves curl around the small animal protectively as it leans forward. Before any words can leave your lips it smiles and says, "So, I understand you like dreams? I'll tell you about one if you'll listen. A sort of dream walk." You nod, settling back. "Please." I had a dream I think of often. It took me a long time to wake up from this dream. When I did I was bitterly disappointed, for awhile.You've had a dream like that, haven't you? One so comfortable, so joyful that waking up is painful? For some inexplicable reason you feel at home. Protected. This place, for me, was a cemetary, in that particular city. Peaceful, old, and full of beautiful trees and beautiful sculptures. The master piece was a black angle, hoverin gover her domain, cloaked in the sort of legends that the young sping to make life mysterious. This lady, it was told, protected the soul of a young woman who had died of heart break. If you dared climb the base, stand tiptoe in the full of the moon and kiss her cold lips she would tell you of your true love or send you to a lonely death. Now, I'm not one to buy into such simple legends. But thelady herself intruiged me. The expression on her face, the way the light hit her in the afternoon: she was telling somethingk of that I was sure. So often I would go walk around her feet, absorbing the breeze, feeling quiet for a small moment. This time it was night, and I was walking arund the winding, arching paths, watching the moonlight move over the stone. When I came upont he dark lady I decided I did want a kiss... not to hear some tale of true love... but because she seemed to have ehrself tied up as tighly inside as I. I thought the coldness might tell me something of myself. So there I was, perched precariously, on tiptoes, holding on to her arms for dear life. When I touched her nose with mine, instead of kissing her I laid my cheek on her chest, drank in the coolness that reminded me of my mother's hand on my feverish head. I stayed there long enough to numb my skin, and abruptly fell back down to the ground. Thud. It wasn't graceful, but I wasn't broken either. A voice from behind me asked, "Did she tell you what you wanted to hear?" I thought I was done for. The police crused the cemetary at night looking for vandals and exhibitionist, and I was caught. They thought I was some weirdo and were goign to kick me out (I wasn't ready to go) or worse, arret me. I considered diving into the shadows, but knew I couldn't move swiftly enough to evade them. Not the way I imagined, like a wolf, liquid in movement. "Of course you can. If you desire it. Need it." That confused me. Startled me. Who was hearing my thoughts? How? And why did they think I would approve of such intamicies?I turned at it was him, dressed in black. I knew him. Not his name, not his face, but the golden within. I had to smile. I couldn't help it. Then I frowned. "You have no idea. I can't dow hat I want. I can't become that. I've tried. It's a dream. A nice dream. A nice story." My heart leapt at the thought, my mind swirled with giddiness... if only I could. "It's only becoming what you are. Accept it. Become it. Then remember." Part of me was furious at him for taunting me. The other half so glad to see him I wanted to rush forward and hug him. But I stayed put. Finally he grinned, wolfishly, and he was that. A wolf. Standing there, taunting me more. "Become it," pounded in my brain, and the more I started into the cool wolf eyes, the louder it got. I could fell change welling up in me like a freedom. There I was, not a wolf, not that free... but a big, loping shepherd of a dog. I raced, tearing around the headstones, up and down the hills, over the fence... sailing through into the air, impacting the ground, up, over and around, then rollingi n the cold,d amp grass. The frost melted against my fur, and the thought filtered through my rolling ecstasy... I wasn't allergic to grass in this form! Roll, roll, roll. Then I was up and running down the street, just feelingthe strength of four legs, inhaling the fragrent wind, listening to the bright sounds. There was a though that a stray dog might draw attention I didn't want. And I was a cat padding along under street lamps, stopping at intersections and scurrying across. I came upon a restaurant that I had a habit of frequenting with friends. Usually to withdraw behind a vanilla coke, listening, but afraid of misstepping with my words. There they were, talking and eating, the din surrounding them easily. I went forward, curious to see if they seemed different through these eyes. And Wend, a woman I admired, a goddess in her own right, looked down and smiled in sheer joy. She loved cats. All cats. She glowed with warmth towards me. Gently she picked me up and sat me on her lap, rubbing my ears and head. I was stiff at first, feeling odd, but she went on enjoying my presence so I relaxed into a blissful state of listening, feeling comfortable with my silence (who expects a cat to reveal anything at all?). At some point I woke from a half-sleep and knew I should go. I was alert and wondering where he had gotten off to. So again I was running, for the joy of it. To the feel the litheness of the muscle and the ease of the body. But he wasn nowhere to be found. Panic began to nibble at my stomach. How was I to remember how to get back to human form? I didn't want to, and wanted ... knew I had to go back. But I couldn't think of how. Couldn't remember. I came upon him leaning against a car, door held open. "I was waiting," he said, "You need some rest." I thought I had been resting but I felt tired all of sudden. A bone weary tired. I crawled into the back seat, wanting to curl underneath a blanket as I had done when I was a child. Nestled in the warm darkness, the cool night air brushing my face. Then I was crawling benath a soft blanket with cold hands and feet, and my old form. Even as I fought I feel into a deep sleep, against an onslaught of questions that I wanted to ask him. Against my fear of loosing him, and my memory of how to change. Despite all of that I felt wonder that I was content, and slept. |