Shaft of Light

Shaft of Light



It begins softly. Cobwebs removed so the plains can be seen for what they are. It is still. The air carries with it a scent of change. Change arrives in colours. Navys, wines, bottle greens, pinks and ochres drizzle out of the unexpected opening. They spray into the sky in tiny drops at first, then gradually swelling to a forceful gush that splatters the landscape. The ground is bathed in a breathtaking mosaic of colour. Wind fans the colour outwards to all corners, covering what was once was barren, in new vitality. The colour seeps into every crack and split, encouraging the earth to heal and regenerate. The air warms unexpectedly. A new phase begins.
As the ground drinks down the magic, it uncurls to new life. Small flowers emerge to greet the day. These flowers have never been seen by man. Velvet petals stretch to their full length as the wind guides their dance. It is uncertain where the power lies but the effect of this is awesome. New grass bristles through the soil unexpectedly. Each green blade has an equal chance of prosperity. The prickling lasts awhile, soon the once barren terrain is blanketed in lush green. However the change is not complete.
When the change began, the sky was altered first. Once a dismal grey, the lifeless colour is now filtered by rich blue, as deep as the ocean itself. Clumps of cloud bob on the horizon, airily basking in the glory of the transformation. The sun. A ball of fury in space, but here it had the strength of a candles' flame waiting for death. Now, it flourishes with comforting heat. It throbs in the centre of its azure domain, allowing its rays to caress the earth with a promising gentleness. Birds zig zag along the sky, chirruping happily in their carefree manner.
Springs of water force their way through the seabed to replenish the land. Pure uncorrupted, life-giving water that whispers in the womb of the earth. All the elements tangling together to restore this dead place to new glory.Strands of seaweed fuse at the heart of the bed, swaying in time to the waves rolling back and forth. Back and forth, back and forth, a definite rhythm established, the land evolves to a paradise for all creatures who inhabit it. Mountains loom in all their dominance, moulded by the pulse of this change. The pulse, itself, located deep within the earth, controlling the growth and health of all things here.
It is difficult to conceive that a land once so ill and empty could be resurrected to new beauty. Insects and animals existing in harmony to take and give from this wondrous place. Nearby, a waterfall throws her frothy white hair over the edge of a cliff in glee. An owl observes all this from her perch in the oak tree, smiling as she knows that the recovery will last. A new truth is known, a realisation borne out of this earth itself that the self has become known. Shoots and roots plunge their fingers deep into the soil sucking sustenance from the soft bosom of the earth.
When the rate of change begins to slow, the earth adjusts herself to the new shroud she wears. Beaded in blooms, trees, oceans, shrubs, fauna and rivers, she straightens from her defeated, huddled stance to gaze upon her empire. A goddess, revealed, she breathes deeply the perfumed air and allows the calm, gentle swish of the leaves restore her faith. All is well at last.