i put a shell to my ear, in the hope i would gleam some information for my non logical non linear, non rational receiver. i listened hard. there was a splatter of feedback, my own neurones flickering away, the ear canals tidal waves, the friction of the breeze, the fiction of my imagination.
i was looking at the waves, they rolled in pounding relentlessly, i enjoyed the intermittent crash and the whoosh as they sucked themselves back into the body of the sea.
it was early morning. i do that now, get up very early and take myself down, sometimes the moon is sinking behind me, the sun casting it's blazing light upon me and some fishing men.
the dawn and dusk are good for my kind of magick.
the dawn has it's own qualities, it's powering up time.
the dusk powering down.
must be the taoist nature in me, tuning in to frequencies in the greater spirit of this universe, the natural one.
man has a place but has to learn what it is and where he belongs.
it's not in conquering, it's not in some intellectual endeavour, how can it be. it's in the 8th division sky place.
coming back to that point we reset ourselves. it's holy, it's the point where as above so below meet and unite in harmony.
suddenly the wind stops and my inner emanations cease, i enter the zone, my mind is gone, dissolved blown apart, unnecessary.
i see the forces compete.
i see them all fail.
i see civilisations aspire to stars only to become dust.
i see it all.
the voice says, 'let there be light!'
it's not in a sea shell but from a sea shell, it's from a rams horn, it's from a beating babies heart, it's from a flowers bloom and an sunflowers spin, it's from a reptiles skin to a bumble bees buzz.
i put down the shell gently.
the waves crash, the beach attracts it's followers, the shops behind me start to wind up for the day, bread bakes, toast pops out from toasters, coffee pours, newspapers are read, people start cars wait for buses and start moving from one point to another. the sun has risen, the moon sinks over the horizon. everything is illuminated.