Which will it be? Pale blue light? Soft yellow?
The tunnels stand, eternally waiting. A choice made minute after minute- for the beings die by the thousands.
I move through the tunnel- I have chosen. A rock, a white house, a dimension where the work has taken root- I cannot tell.
I am folded into the darkness, one with the shadows that hide my lifetime. It comes- it is there, eternally ready.
Fluttering. There is a maelstrom of currents pushing me in all directions.
I am not dying. I am living.
I breathe. But do I live?
There must be more than breathing, simply existing. Must be more- did I chose that place?
The ground is near. I see it coming.
The ground blares even from the tree branch- so far and just a blink away.
I move towards it slowly, I move towards it quickly.
I shudder and I am there.
I turn around and my edges are yellow and red and crinkled.
It comes and there I am, touching the earth once again. swoosh.
I am in the void. The clear light.
Nothing. Nothing. Everything. Nothing.
And then there is consciousness once again.
I look back at the fading clear light.
I am falling. Falling, falling.
Soon I will have to choose once again.
I will be that leaf, clinging.
It’s coming.
Soon I will decide.
The tunnel is there once again-
a million of them leading to rocks or thirst, yellow of white, clear or brilliant.
There will be breathing, perhaps life once again.
I am falling, falling.
The clear light is ahead.
