3069

This is a little peace about a land where peace and love won the day and the celebration mirrors those 3 famous days at Woodstock.

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As the low chanting voice drifted softly across the sea of people, Eskon flowed gently with the crowd. He absorbed the peaceful aura that engulfed him and all those around him He basked in its warmth, letting his senses submerge in the comfort of oneness. As he looked at the contented faces around him, he smiled. They said it all; we are one, we are brothers, sisters and we are all. This was the climax of the festival, with the backdrop of the soft red sky and the deep rhythmic chanting of the holy men filling the air with serenity and understanding.

Feeling a light touch on his shoulder, he turned round to see who had recalled him from his reverie. He smiled. He was confronted by such a vision of beauty that his breath caught momentarily, sending shivers of adrenaline down his spine. Her face was calm, muted and her eyes shone with joy and ecstasy. Saying nothing he closed his hands gently around hers, the warmth in them emanating through him, with small sparks of love like electricity making them vibrate. They looked at each other, eyes drawing closer and closer – the promise of heaven exchanged if only for a moment. They drifted like this for eternity, amongst a sea of humanity all sharing the same ancient dance  unaware of anything but the merging of souls in a breathless kiss. They drank deep of each other.

Everyone was locked in their own private dance, insular, a kaleidoscope multiplying through the immense crowd. Sounds whispered across them all as they all shared love, madness and hope. All this was enough to convey a deep and spiritual sense of peace that swelled each heart and freed the minds of all. A single cry broke the silence, a joyful moan of release that triggered a wave of like minds to share alike the euphoric call and when it passed, the gentle lapse into calmness once more. Dania lay, sated, relaxed and alive. Her loved had flowed freely and with complete ease of mind looked over at her lover. Eskon smiled warmly and left silently, stopping just long enough to kiss her once delicately before moving off into the crowd. As he moved though them he saw his own fulfillment mirrored on numberless faces.

He heard a familiar voice coming to him over the sounds of contentment. The voice was soft but carried on the air to him, “Eskon, Eskon.” said the voice.

He turned to greet his brother, who was making his way gently through the mass of still entwined bodies. “Oslan,” he said warmly, “How are you my Brother?” The keeper of the voice had flowed through the crowd to stand before Eskon. His face flushed with release as he gave the greeting. “I am well, “came the reply. “Love and peace to you Oslan,” he said, smiling at his friend. “Be cool and dig, “came Oslan’s reply. The two friends stood comfortably together, neither felt rushed or compelled to make conversation, time was plentiful and it was enough now to just bask in the glorious afterglow of the release. As they stood side by side their auras merged smoothly, each waited, without impatience for the fullness of time to bring more words forth. Finally it was Oslan who broke the silence, “It was indeed a groovy festival this year’s end.” His eyes searched the vast moving landscape of people as his friend replied, “I agree and dig your calm words. All is love this night and there is love for all, as my love for you is great my friend.” No embarrassment was felt and Oslan replied in kind, “Your words bring me great happiness, as all is indeed love. Look out there Eskon; see the love that fills the land as nature reciprocates our love for here and all brothers and sisters.” “A rich bounty indeed,” said Eskon. They lapsed again into a companionable silence. After a while of smooth contemplation they parted, completing the ancient circle of the ritual with a gentle embrace. Then both disappeared into the seething crowd to enjoy greetings and embraces from more joyful companions.

Now this sea of feeling, of people enraptured and blissful started flowing as one towards a common destination.  The Grand Finale was about to begin and in the far distance a shrine illuminated by brilliant lights, shone out into the crowd from the bottom on a gentle incline. The mass flowed down towards the beacons, expectant, hushed as each person moved onwards towards the light. As the light faded further, brighter shone the lights, each urging the followers to come and embrace the light, be as one until finally the sea broke gently against the shrine. The mood of expectation hung pregnant in the must evening light. The silence fell like a heavy blanket, starting from the shore back into the depths of the throng. The moment stretched, the mood with it until, finally a chanting boomed across the shallow valley. Slow, languid and deep at first, then gradually increasing the tempo and volume. It focused the one-mind; each face mirrored the ecstasy of their neighbor as the calling grew. Gently the crowd pressed towards the front of the shrine, as one they moved, shoulder to shoulder with no tension only certainty that the prophets were nearly here. The lights dimmed, the crowd fell once more silent. As the lights broke into a brilliant dawn of chaotic colour, a moan of pleasure escaped a million flushed throats. Then, they where there, the prophets stood evenly spaced across the length of the shrine. Dark faces in robes of white, anonymous to all but the blinding light of their presence familiar, comforting. The lights at the foot of the shrine were now  intense, like a glowing shore of burning light, bordering an immense sea of humanity.

The mass flowed ever closer, now beginning to emit its own low buzz of excitement. As far as the mind could see people began to sway to and fro. The swaying started to become more pronounced as the tempo increased, rippling towards the foot of the shrine. In their thousands they swept forward to the foot of the lighted shore as one, following the fragrant music that vibrated through the clouds. The one-mind intent only on gaining the sanctuary of that brilliant, dancing light. Then the hallucinations started. Eskon who was flowing with the throng could feel , see and taste every molecule in the void throb and pulsate to the primal voice of the one-spirit. He tasted creation, he was watching the beginning of the universe, and he was the universe. He looked towards the shrine, the beauty of it spoke to the deepest part of him. The powerful lights now sent trailers of heaven-light wherever he roamed, he cried, the brilliance was too beautiful in its simplicity to bear watching.

All were now entranced in the fever of wonderment, their one unifying thought sent into the void begged the prophets to speak. They began to chant in unison, an ancient wanting fuelled them, their desire flooded the shrine reverberating through everything, emanating upwards to the sky and beyond, filling the world and warming the mind. Eskom was lost in his own compliance his body throbbed with a comfortable and reassuring rhythm, hypnotized by the sound of the one-voice. As the prophets continued their inert and silent watch over the throng, one of their number slowly began to move forward. He moved gracefully towards the very edge of the shrine, almost lost in the lights at the foot of the illuminated human sea.  His white robe billowing gently in the breeze and as he moved even closer to the edge the brilliant illuminations seemed to engulf him totally as he became the pure white light that emanated into the night. His golden scepter hung low from his neck and sat at right angles to his hips. He grasped one end gently and with a swift movement he brought his arm above his head in a slow agonizing arc above his head. He paused in this position for eternity, the crowd hushed a great one-breath held in a exquisite painful pause. The moment stretched out, endless, to a building explosion of release.

Eskon watched it all, he sensed the coming chaos that spoke of joy and the boundless escape of noise. The breath held in a thousand, thousand lungs. The vacuum of the universe held in a moment, even the dawn seemed paralyzed by the expectation it too waited for time to flow forward once more, to break free from its frozen state. The arm came down. A million separate notes of music that defined beauty, radiated love and power exploded into the sky and pounded the souls of all those that stood in its path. The multitude broke into a rapturous moan of joy that once more spoke to the void of boundless joy and fulfillment. Eskon watched them erupt into the sky, hurtling up through the gloaming light into the atmosphere, expanding, accelerating out into the universe that birthed them. The random brilliance outshone the now pulsating lights, as they fell back to earth to seek new worshippers, eager to be caught and nurtured by the first virgin rays of the new day, the new sun, a new beginning and ending. All were enlightened to the power of the chord, as the noble music of an ancient time sang into the fresh morning air. Words long since unsung were now remembered as the one-voice spoke to the dawn, to creation and the mother earth. The totem sound of a forgotten time was reborn, birthed in electric genius by the prophet. This sound once played long ago by a brother of the universe and traveler of the stars was now again, worshipped and revered.

In counterpoint a dis-chord, a brief homage to those once lost within a brutal society that had created beauty in sound and words, but had also developed pain and suffering into a mechanical brilliance, chimed once.  The one-spirit relived and paid homage to the changing consciousness that had, so long ago, taken the first faltering steps down the infinite road.

Eskon wearily surveyed the mass, his own soul drained form the emotional outpouring. Some sang, others, scholars of the new-mind, prayed openly to their God. Many held hands and swayed gently to the music which now softened to a gentler sweeping pace. All was love, all was joyous and peace filled their hearts. His own heart was swelled with a tulmet of emotions as he wondered if the ancients had felt all that he was a part of now. He hoped they had, for on this very spot two hundred years ago they had baptized this place with 3 days of peace and love and the dream of one-ness, togetherness of hearts and minds. It was the catalyst for change that had evolved into the benevolent life they all now led. He lay back on the muddy ground, felt the warmth of those around him and the contentment of all those that prayed.

The calm and wonder he now felt, he gave thanks to the swirling mass of invention overhead, which now slowly began to fade. He whispered a quiet thank you as he watched his words float upwards towards the heavens. He wished them luck on their journey home and as he slowly closed his eyes he heard the wind, cry, Mary.

THE END

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