Waking up before dawn to a million crickets
Black sky, Bright stars
Stillness.
I gather my few things in an old string bag
And start up the pathway of illumination
The pathway lined with Kukui.
As I step, I feel the earth breathe, lifting my feet on every inhale.
Looking up into the tree tops, the sky is now barely glowing.
My vision feels like it is deep inside my head, and somehow in the trees at the same time.
I walk dumbfounded that my regular sight has disappeared,
And in it's place this kind of multi-sourced seeing.
Disoriented and Intrigued, I walk,
feeling the crunch of stone on the soles of my feet,
Not sure where 'I' am, or am not.
Listening to my vision,
Listening to the forest.
I say a quick prayer, in case anyone is listening,
As I speak, a pitter patter of leaves erupts in the forest right beside me,
A murmuring.
Individual leaves shudder and flap wildly, though most of the trees are still.
A sprinkle of rain is the only logical explanation I can come up with.
I look up — no clouds, no breeze
Just the forest, wide awake and listening.
We are in open communion with each other.
We are the breathing green, the waking light, the altered gaze, the damp morning air,
The stone and dirt meeting feet.
We have gazed into each others eyes, this morning and I,
Seeing will never be the same again.