The hour of Evening

It was the hour of evening. Stepping those stairs in Medborgsplasten, I felt the tap in my eyes. It was a gentle tap. Looking inside I looked up. The sky was blazing. Houses and tree tops were clothed in a golden hue. Enchanted by the magic display I walked by the sun. Hours passed as I followed the Sun. Sun in tern circled around me. The smell of the sea weed filled my body. I stopped and camped on the bank. Sun poured itself into my eyes and down it sank within me. Such was the hour that evening.

Aisle of the Light

I put on my armour, my shawl. I cross my legs and close my eyes. I home in.
Whirling at the bottom gently and slowly my body dances in the lotus posture. Then suddenly with a volcanic jolt She rises from earth to the ether. Both the nostrils at use. Rapid breathing... One way only…. No outgoing. Head thrown back. Elongated neck. Jaws thrown wide open. Coal darkness. Tongue curls up in the throat like the leaf in the wind, finding its way in the space. I feel the sensation of cool breeze inside me. Looking for the truth my tongue rides in the space like the insect riding and looking for light. Beyond blackness of the light there is nothing. I feel stillness pervading my entire being. Ambrosia drips in. I feel dressed in ambrosia as I walk down the aisle of light.