Under the darkened sky, above eerily silent water, all that had tied me to land fell away. I died that day. I couldn’t pull myself back, there were no strings left over that I could weave into a bridge.
Outside of the manifest world, held firmly by vast space, I start to remember my cave. My darkness, my sanctuary. I walk on mist, and the more that I immerse myself in the familiar feeling of the cave, the more light comes through.
My path becomes luminous, and soon I am blinded by the glow and eaten up by air of gold. My veins fill up with precious liquid metal, and I start to feel that I am able to feed off light.
I ingest more and more of the light that was eating me up, and I start to expand – I become the universe that imagined me into existence, the fire that brings all things to life, the dark cave that welcomes decay and sings chaos to sleep.
Spirit of Tara 