The feeling is a constant thing. Leading me on. Soothing me through the day. Haunting me in the night. Strange visions surround me. Flashes of light in the silence. Disturbed by unseen presences brushing against my legs and my feet even now. Still. A comfort in truth. Because I know it is real. It gives proof of the greater something beyond. I sense presence ... and there is that continued confirmation ... the insight which I received right at the start. It perpetuates. Nothing has changed. It is a constant heartbeat which drives the seeker on. A determined mote in the eye of those who conceal. Fearlessly it battles the waves and heads to that distant shore. Its farsight sees that destination and understands very much that it is there. But where it witnesses that point from coexists with the material plane but is devoid of any sensation of time. It reports back to the conscious mind as a flash of inspiration. A hint of images at the back of the cognitive screen. Missed perhaps by those not having lived a life of inspiration. Ignored by those ignorant of coexistent symbolism. But the magician misses nothing. He compiles everything he can and draws upon a reservoir of a traveller's pain. Living the life of the mystic has brought little joy. Just wisdom. Just a comprehension of a world so different to the one portrayed by science.
Shadows move even now. Most of the time they are ignored. They are commonplace in this magician's life. Merely an overlay between the planes of coexistence. To the traveller in the early days of phenomenon ... these visitations would be a cause of wonder. But to this beleagured mage there is no amusement only scorn. For presences choose their fabled direct communication to pass their insights on. Rarely is there a clear audible word. Indeed '357' was one of the last times. Though 'alive' has often been heard in recent times as an answer to the constant bombardment their 'open channel' receives.
The wonder and the mysticism has long since gone. It is all now a long enduring 'tool'. A way of life. Little attention is provided for things not now of the ordinary which would probably astound the enchanted explorer several miles back on the trail. Not I ...
What I seek captures my attention. Shapes my dreams. It comforts me to realise that still nothing has changed. It is the same as it was in the early days of this trail. Thus the mortal passes this comfort on. Saying it as it is received ... mostly. Aware that solutions and conclusions can be seen in the distance. Events are unfolding. Mediating on their conversion from astral anomaly into physical reality ... for what is to be soon will come to pass ..
