The Black Window

Most of the time, I concentrate on bringing the speckles closer. They first appear so far off in the edgeless grey distance. The sequence begins with the glowing sphere coalescing in the center, pulsing in expanding rays flowing like a red dwarf sun radiating fire, orange and gold. Sometimes indigo blue and rose violet bands appear and sometimes it swirls in spiraling colors turning clockwise. It is so beautiful to behold. I can hear sounds— swishing, a deep toned hum growing soft to loud, soft to loud. Eventually, all color and movement blend into the pure grey field. In the distance I see the tiny cluster of black dots. I invite them, come to me, closer, closer, yet I must not focus on them, keeping my view wide as possible, as if I am inhaling or widening myself in order to pull them toward me like gravity or space for them to fill. As they near, they gather to form an oval pool floating horizontally in the grey. I move toward the night-black shape to look into and see it’s a window through which i can view stars in the vacuum depths of space. I poke my head through looking down to see tiny sparkling lights. Flashing, as if images on pages are turning, as though flipping through a book on it’s side, the pages, one after the other, moving so fast it’s a mystery, strange and wonderful - dazzling. I realize it is a directory possibly of everything there ever was and is to be. All at one point, the gates of now and forever. As I watch, the spinning stops. A page lays open black on black yet begins to take on depth and dimension. I am looking down now upon the curved surface of a planet as if from a ship in space. There are cities with sharp futuristic spires, arches defying gravity; a tumultuous webwork of lace highways, buildings and towers with sparkling lights all blinking bright with energy in shiny blackness and I realize I am climbing through the oval window and almost all the way through when a thought intrudes like a floating question mark in the blackness of outer space... How long will the window stay open? Will I be able to return? Suddenly aware of myself in the middle of an endless universe, I am human once again, pulled back in the snappy wink of an eye out from the depths, away from the planet of spidery lacework. Snapped back through the oval window which is murdered by awareness, shattered to pure black shards, receding into the distance from whence they came, and I, now through to the open, infinite, grey demesne, then back into my world, my room, my chair, my meditation. Colors in the room, light in my eyes, cat on my lap. The Warlord’s asleep. Is there no one I could tell? Who would believe my story?