Written in Gokarna, India, following 2 months of travel and a chance encounter with a sadhu living in a cave.
Inside a dark room, a pin drops.
Seated in a chair, his head turns toward a distant place, and the resonance is deafening.
It swallows the self into the depths of a destructive force that cares not for the wants and whims of a shallow man.
The face turns upward toward an unseen being.
With fear and pleading, he falls from the square framed, intrinsically designed Scandinavian chair to his knees
A man hoping for salvation, hoping to encounter a force that banishes doubt and evil from this world.
And there is nothing.
Only a dark void that stares back into the soul of a long-forgotten heart.
And from this place of despair, from this place of pleading, a faint light appears in the corner of the conscious mind.
It is the spark of remembrance
The spark of an eternity that sits beyond the dreams of the one sleepwalking through a frightful life.
Like an angel appearing to a dying, drowning seaman, it shines from the depths of despair.
A light touches the brow, and at once the heavens appear.
Through parted clouds, a voice calmly carries you upon the soft wings of this luminous angel and delivers you into the arms of a forgotten mother once held.
A peace descends upon the soul, and you are found in a love that swallows you whole.
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