The morning sky lights a pink the color before we’ve awakened. I look through the window of the ship of my life and the oily lattice-work obstructs the Eastern lightening even as it reveals it with the roiling of the waves like cold mystery beneath me, beside me, above me, hanged in the remnants of the paling sky against the world’s physics like some phantom strung up for treason against reality.
My sails take on alien winds. I am far from home. I am a mind afloat on this rebellious sea where every gut-wrending trough is separated by a wave a mile high. My province of this sea is not yours. Yet I feel watery wetness just as you do. I taste salt as you do. I cry out, I laugh, I pray as you do. We are of this same mystery that encircles us at every compass point and every cardinal direction and every place of turning whether logical, spiritual, or emotional.
As others have before, many after us will engage with the vastness of this Truth in the same way, separated by troughs but joined by the very mystery that allows us to call each other mariners on that same phantom sea hanged amongst the beauty.
Those that follow will engage with the very many mysteries that have been scribed by some divine hand upon the parchment that guides our reckless expeditions. This litany is long and here is only recorded a portion of those mysteries: “The paradox of the beginning of existence: that miracle of something from nothing. The distant points of space: the voids of black holes that are portals into new ignorance and the black spaces of missing energy. The meaning of human relationship: the holy give and take, teach and learn that exists between all people. The riddle of time: that arrow that moves only forward only toward a blurring chaos of less understanding. The wisdom of new and ancient gods: that struggle to pull total meaning that is independent of circumstance, time, place, existence itself.”
The waves tear at the boards and soon they will be pulled free or cracked beyond repair and the vessel take on that dark phantom water and it will drag us down or up dependent upon the capricious whim that rules its nature. And we will sink through that salty sea to rest in the alien soil many leagues beneath or we will rise through the clouds and be split apart into a million atoms that we may be totaled into the dark water mystery by condensation or precipitation. And though we are split beyond recognition we will be joined: mariners of the once and always mysteries of life.