>>The Mayan calendar is really just a series counted days.
exactly! - they used the sun coming down the dark rift of the milky way (dropping from between the legs) as symbology for being 'born again', and the perpetual calendar clicks over to 000000 again
there is a valley in ireland where the mountain resembles a reclining woman, and the moon rising from her stomach/groin area (hard to tell really) every 18 1/2 years is called rebirthing the moon - same deal, no lunar fireworks either
everybody's looking for fireworks
now uta saw fireworks!
The Blue Temple
by Esoterica
Copyright © 2005,2008
All Rights Reserved
[email protected] Uta scratched his head and looked again at the sky.
The sun was small and yellow-brown, and the sky was charcoal gray.
It was very odd for the middle of the day, and the moon last night had been sapphire blue, the same
color as the stones that formed the walls of the Temple.
Something was happening to the East, across the deep sea.
He could see a haze spreading there, and arose to go see the better.
There had been many warnings of the coming cataclysm and he was glad to be well off the
mainland.
His home island also lay in that direction, but his family had left even before the Exodus, when the
coasts were forcibly evacuated.
There had been only a few people left, just a skeleton crew, as he had sailed from the southern port
of the Kingdom when he was assigned by the Temple Masters to his duty here.
He was to spend seven years here, guarding the vortex that the Temple covered.
This was a rugged place, an ancient mining site full of slimy bogs that would trap the feet of the
unwary, to deep, dark lakes that could contain almost anything just under the surface and no one
could ever be sure what was there or not, to the large mountains covered in the largest trees he had
ever seen.
He ran across those mountainsides now, in search of...what it was he could not say, but some sort of
answer to the disturbances he was seeing and feeling.
He quickly made his way past his small log house up the rise toward the Temple.
Long years of Temple training had taught him how to control his fear, and he employed the ancient
technique of distraction as he rounded the rough corner of the Temple, recalling facts that had been
practically burned into his brain by the Temple Instructors.
The Temple had been built to the normal standard of construction, but was a bit smaller in size
allowing for the remoteness of this outland post.
It guarded the ancient Vortex that lay deep under the unworked stone walls a luxury not required
as few would be coming here to notice the rough construction.
He reminded himself that the whole purpose of the Temple network was to nourish and protect the
energy that lay within the Lines.
The Lines crisscrossed the globe and he had actually been there on the day the calculations were
made that signified the Lines were changing.
They were moving, heaving and twisting, and the dirt of the earth would soon move with them.
They had evacuated the coasts and built the Temples in hope of holding and controlling the writhing
Lines.
He visualized the intersection of the Lines deep under the Temple which created the Vortex, a place
where the dimensional barriers were thinned and things could come and go at will to other times
and places.
People, too, had gone, but he knew that he must stay and guard until there was nothing left to guard.
At last, he reached the overgrown path that led up from the landing, coming out on the other side of
the Temple, facing East and the churning sea.
He employed his Temple training swiftly as the height of the cliffs beneath him made him sway
dizzily quickly he thought about his being alone.
There were certainly very few travellers who came these days.
It had been weeks now since the mad rush of the Exodus when there seemed to be a never ending
stream of boats and people always needing this and complaining about that.
He was glad it had quieted down, but he had begun to miss the presence of people, something he
hadn't even realized until now.
He had just quieted his breathing and reopened his eyes when there was suddenly a brilliant flash to
the east and the horizon disappeared in a blaze of orange fire.
Then there was nothing no sound at all the earth was holding its breath.
A terrible wind that carried a horrible smell smashed him backwards into the Temple wall.
The back of his head cracked hard against the blue stone and his eyes closed for the last time.
Uta still walks the now overgrown wood, guarding the secret of the Vortex and the blue stones of the
ruined Temple.
The Lines have settled well into their new patterns, and he is glad to finally have some company,
even if they are not his people.
The End
This story is by Esoterica, and is free for reproduction as long as the author's name is included.
Copyright© 2008 by Esoterica. All Rights Reserved.
This post has been edited by esoterica: Sep 16 2009, 08:32 AM
Is Anyone Sick Of The End Of The World Theme?, grrrrrrrr*****!
valkyrie Is Anyone Sick Of The End Of The World Theme? Sep 15 2009, 11:08 AM
Sep 15 2009, 11:08 AM
