Acorn Apocalypse The Moment A moment of time is eternal as light travels away from Earth at 186,000 mile per second. The still frame of time continues through the infinite expanding cosmos of our Universe. With our minds we can see this moment with creative imagination. Thought traveling faster than light holds the moments picture to fill us with wonder and reason at the true depth of the eternal living mind. Letting light fill in the dark to create structure and habitat for all that is life as we know it or as we do not. In this moment there is a young man, Markey White/Nebitsi is, 17 tears old, 6 foot 3 inchs tall, 180 lbs . Markeys skin is the light sensitive kind. Common to his Irish ancestors, with lite freckling from sun exposer. He is wearing his favorite robe over his school clothes Black, handmade by his aunt and is complete with all the proper insignia embroidered with gold and sliver silk. Large deep blue eyes with lashes that his mother says women will kill for. Markeys high cheek bone, full lips, shoulder length strawberry curls and smooth creamy skin mark him as a young Irish boy. A good looking young man who never is for want of the ladies attentions. Only his proud nose and maybe his eye color shows the Native American Navajo for he claims his soul heritage. Markey is what he refers to as, adept at practical magic. Stating the gift came form both the Irish and the Navajo sides of his family . Though he has never seen any remarkable result from his prayers. He has however enjoyed modest results from his simple ritual and meditations experiments. Having the desired mind expanding euphoria. He is working an after school ritual near the largest of Oak trees. His favorite spot in Doyle Park. In The City of Parks of Santa Rosa California. It is the first of May, worm and sunny. Surrounded by his casting circle, complete with white candles and incense on his alter. From meditation he now stands with in his circle and begins his fevered Chant. A poem from a book he has barrowed from his mothers library. With all the components laid out before and around him. With his left hand he raises a dagger high over his head, as instructed in the passages of Te llyfr. An ageing manuscript, beautifully leather bound to endure the ages. Red and Gold embossed lettering styles and Celtic knot work bordering in blue outlined with silver. Shows it real value, expensive and rare. Near fumbling the aged text he makes an awkward grab and saves the précis book from falling. Interrupting his chant with Dam!.. ewe and gasps with relief averting tragedy his mother couldnt forget. Barrowed with out asking is a Navajo tradition for survival. Jokingly taught by Markeys paternal Grandfather Tomas Nebitsi Sr. Tom a traditionalist and proud man he serves on Navajo Nation Council and he is, Hatałii or shaman. Until age 5 Markeys revered, loved, mentor and teacher. It wasnt until Markey turned 10 years old that his great dislike that grew to racist hatred of white man eased. Now calming himself closings his eyes. He breaths deeply and begins the mantra anew. He begins to feel a pull from the ground like a heavy weight on his brain. Intrigued but unconcerned continues with love and courage. Setting down the book carefully he grabs the last component, a fresh fallen acorn form the near by tree. Markey is confident the experiment will be successful, one he has practiced with his mother every spring. Saying the spell over her germinating seeds for her garden. Being his first white man ritual, moms garden is always full of amazing abundance. Growth in her space made the most skeptical observer wonder at the cornucopia of beauty. Mom said, with her one, two, three, hand gesture, I nurture with love, understanding and courage. then waving off the disbeliever The rest is strictly organic and water. Markeys hope is to start a tree that will grow to be as strong as any in the wood of Doyle Park. Markey tightly holds the seed in his right hand and begins the end of the incantation opening his eyes. Seeing as never before the glowing outline of his pentacles of protection in the four corners of the gates of the watchtowers. A mental visualization now come to life. Without further interruption he continues the chant, building with his awe. Curious he looks down. The circle begins to flash a golden red light that feels the pulse of tingling heat. He speaks the syllables more quickly reminding himself of the love part. Feet feel rooted, planted and grounded deep as any tree. The heat now prickly pairs the hair up from his spine, neck and now his head must be standing strait up. A buzzing hum of vibration in time with the surrounding energy pulse coming form the acorn held so tightly in his hand. With the edge of fear he reminds himself of the courage part. Looking up he states AS MY WILL SO MOTE IT BE! The awe in a crescendo of will power surges through him as light and energy shoot up into the Cosmo. Meeting the rays of the sun, converge, rapturing a change of his understanding. Blue, cool now transmuted on the fringe of silver the lights color is now descending. The rush of it blows him back a step. In awed, confused and fearful of this result his attention falls on the hand holding the seed. The rhythmic pulse now like a worm wiggling about ready to explode with this cool blue hue. Opening the sweaty hand the acorn has sprouted with life, root, trunk, leaf and limb. A glow with this awe inspired light. Griped in a panic, acting on instinct, raises the right hand above his head as he does so the sapling is now grown and the vibration builds. He can barely hold it. The seed is the size of a three year old tree, the trunk thickening in his grasp, before his arm is descending in the throw. He casts the sapling at the ground. Its root like a spear, he is reminded to the one of destiny. The root makes contact with earth with a loud boom and grows with new lust and speed. A blinding flash of this light explodes away sending waves Earth like a pebbles ripple on a pond. Currents of energy go with it. Quaking ground knocks Markey hard on his butt. The quake builds and shakes his entire being so violent he has trouble seeing the accelerated grow of his work. The ring grows larger so does the new born tree and mounding earth. The oak is towering over him 50 feet and still growing. He attempts to stand but the sway of the tide of earth moves him pushing him down rolling away from the wild growth. Rolling on his side he sees that this phenomena is not limited to this tree for all the surrounding trees are now taking growth. The new born tree now is twice the surrounding trees. The wood of Doyle Park grows full. Seeds and sapling that are about have taken root and grow at super normal speeds it seems to become darker and colder. Markey looks up and shields his eyes from the blinding aurora of life, trying to make out what is happening. All he can make out is the explosion of growth is much like the films he had seen of nuclear bombs going off. He is now griped with fear, dread and a sick remorse for what he has done. Great Spirit tell me what going on! he cries.Light of The Great Spirit send me your guidance and protect me! The base of the new tree is at least 100 feet across and grows larger with every pulse of the fast vibrations. It has taken over the entire grassy glen that was the perfect spot for Frisbee Golf. He sees one of the local homeless characters across the park. His gaze is from the ground looking up at the trees miraculous grow. Bubbas fear is obvious. Markey sees his eyes are white, large and iris dark with his jaw agape and wide at vision before him. Markey grabs for moms special book crawling toward the picnic benches were Bubba lies looking completely blown away. The progress seems slow as he quickly moves north belly crawling the lawn. The waves of earth flow away from the tree like a tide, he body surfs one that takes him ten feet away from the site. The roaring rumble has not given to the growing distance he tries to make. Sweat is stinging his eyes and he pauses to wipe away the water. As he does the next wave crashed on his back and a root lightly rolls him further away. His head was swimming with fatigue from the rush of fear and emotion. Bubba sees Markey fleeing toward him. With frantic arm motion he yells over the roar at Markey Come on man come On... its coming this way bro...move...Move! Markey scrambles faster lunging forward with all his strength. When he is with in 20 feet, Bubba moves out toward him offering his hand. Bubba is 47 years old, 5 foot 11, 220 pounds, barrel chested, brown eyes, black full beard, longish dark wavy hair and as big on the inside as he is on the out side.Take My hand brother! he bellows. Markey reaching out he and grabs hold of the tuff callused mwah of a hand that made his seem week and tender. Vise griped hold Bubba reels in Markey as easy as pulling feathers from a grouse. Bubba stumbles in a swagger only the best blind drunks have known. Dragging Markey in tow. Markey kicking his weakened legs to ramble on. They make for the nearest bench and dive under. Just then it all stopped and a dead calm filled the world. That now seemed darker, cooler but fare more peaceful. Markey gasping for air as his panic reseeds his vision seems to be returning with every blessed breath. Trying to regain some composure he thinks out loud, He should not be afraid...he is Navajo. Worm with this thought his pride returns so does his manners, Thanks Robert that was close. You saved my life now I owe you mine.
Posted on: Mon, 11 Nov 2013 17:12:07 +0000
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