checking the un-Rainbow option

'So they don't know . . ?'

'Nope' my honoured Host - known also as He with the Words not most - laughed heartily as if remembering a good joke from yesteryear . . . such as that old chestnut about the Church mouse, that just comes again and again to knock on your mind, whether you want it to or not . . . .

but i digress - this fascinated my imagination and my wings fluttered and crafted the most intricate of Clouds. My Friend and Mentor admired my work that his clever field trip led to. Well, field trip was a bit of hopefullness - i was still ensconced in his mind but it was now interfacing with the school's big-bang nursery. i did not want to dispell the classroom magic, but curiosity overcame and I bit the apple he proffered.

i indicated politely a Question with the minorwing tip-flick I had been practicing

' So ', i hesitantly outlined my foray with all the spin I could muster at wing tip - ' all i can i

Imagine is pain and suffering and tragedy. Thus, my Question: please enlighten as to what is so divine here? that our breaths become one with our joy?'

'Ahhh', heralding the considered response:

'well, for one Transcendence - the Children here have remarkable resilience to emerge from such a place of darkness and dark forces. Many parents give so much extra for a placement'

'many children of Gods', he continued in whispered, mock conspiracy

. . . . ahhh, the Mysteries of what the gods get up to when they are getting down . . .

channeling his more garrulous schoolmarm half, she continued: 'It is an Experiment that is sufficiently and deeply enough documented and the results?, well, let's just say, their playground - when they finally die - is filled with the sands of God's grace and Face. The nourish their bodies, salting their food with real, dried Angel tears . . . , well, of course, there is plenty of it around', he added with obvious sardonic entone, like an audible wink. but there was something more in his Voice, it was dusted with a texture inscrutable, as if Emotions were lurking beneath, somehow

ignoring this Unknown, filed for contemplation when alone, i continued as I only could, now that the dye had been flung and only the pattern remaining to be seen on the wall: ' the Divinity? of the Humour?' my entonement heavily queried as my imagination swelled with the possibilities

after a period when he must have been smiling to Himself, my Mentor chuckled and said - 'well, We often observe there is a period where the humility to see the inherent humour in so awakening and experiencing such learnings in the dark . . .'

my Mentor seemed to be lost in memories as if from a time before time itself

'. . . . well, the child often sulks a bit, not seeing the humour of their good fortune. Lots of falling over ensues . . . .' ' . . . eventually they imagine the wings and not just the worry dragging like a sea anchor of Conscious.'

chuckles and 'hahahas' gave glimpse to the memories now flowing as pratfalls and the silliest of jokes through the stream of our shared consciousness as Memoria, awoken, were now arriving on their own accord not unlike tasty zombie energy titbits of time

Sobering finally, like a drunk climbing back on the wagon's deck, my Mentor righted our course:

'He was a relative of yours . . .' he mused pensively . . .

or so it seemed

'Who?', i greedily took the bait down whole, taking the pensiveness at face value

'the Artist, the Man in Black as it is expressed here. You heard and knew a different version and, thus, here/hear . . . .'

the familiar tune, but with the Other words played . . . that Art was somehow displayed here, somehow, in this model my feathers were practicing to 'see' without causing Observation

'You are both 'of John' ' continued my Friend . . . .

He meant i and this Artist shared the name and All that such implies, which made me slow and soften even more my observations I was practicing here at the most gross meta-scaling of this Universe about to explode. Were i to touch a voxel by honest mistake, the rest in consensus would wash away my clumsy attempt at Observation; but still, i was myself under Observation, or so I observed.

'Indeed, that is why I selected this big-bang iteration from among the Myriads. it is Fostered by your Great Grandparents . . . . .' my Mentor laying the egg ever so carefully.

my Mind flushed with confusion as i considered the reverend intonation of Great that must reflect the focus of so many memories of goodness and grace of my Grandfather and Grandmother has in my Host

so, my practice here, way zoomed out, watching this event that is repeated over and over ubiquitously but uniquely each time - was also a lesson in my History. And, i got to observe first-feather the numbers-running aspect of being a Teacher as my Mentors/Friends earned their bread by facilitating the betting of punters allowed to observe the teachings and wager Grace on their prophetic abilities. so many Layers, as usual - how many times did we hear? 'waste not, want not' - especially if you have not sufficiently tried to imagine all the possibilities of a situation

. . . hmmm-huh, my Mentor hummed in encouragement . . . .

that, and their butter from certifications. validating the Divinities and ensuring agreements to all Covenants and modifications/amendments thereof going back to the ur-beginnings of all initiations of all Beginnings - half, at least, of ad infinitum. that alone daunted even me of the surest Heart, how?, but my Friends assure that only a few boxes actually need to be checked as all collapses as meta constructs. and there certainly is no Sense in telling the customers just how facile is completing such sisyphusean tasks - the Customer being, as Custom, eternally Right and thus it is simply wisest to meet their expectations . . .

. . . 'Indeed: the Beauty that is the Truism of trade secrets' intoned my Gracious Host, with the tone reserved for closeness to Godliness . . .

i was eager to Learn as much possible as soon enough, I too would be earning my Keep, tramping the Mid-scales - perhaps even Belle's Curves, where i had been born and reared before matriculating in these dimensions. back before I had Gender-inverted as part of my Education. thus, soon enough with my uberversal credentials, will be i, looking for fame and fortune - but if I am lucky, finding Humility. there, in that thermally dynamic fertile middle - there, even Boltzmanns Brain can be Built! as they say, though I doubt anyone had ever bothered to actually do it. perhaps even more telling of the Prospects are the lustful laughs from all genders of Teach when the ubiquitous 'in the Middle parts of Fate!' blessing is invoked.

but for now, near the Clouds on the ceiling and so very, very far from those Boards and Planks the Angels label as 'even we fear here to Tread' -- here, any mistakes, any black holes i accidentally knock over, gods forbid, will be put back on their pins before I am even aware i imagined it. *sigh* humility makes one remember constantly how puny one's imagination is

for now, I was softly caressing the black holes, that, like Alliums, contained all those many, many layers of seed information - and had been so very strategically placed around the universe's 'Navel'. i felt my Curiosity grow erect as my imagination had Me tasting every bit of folded energy within each as each was craftily engineered to crack apart as geometries of shrapnel and dust to condense the dark and light with other strategic Attractors placed in their paths

never missing a didactic opportunity, my Friend eased my nervousness with fresh Information - 'don't worry even if you crack one; the test black holes, used in perfecting the formula, are re-cycled to heat the school space anyway. We grow our own here and store in the basement - so there are plenty! We must arrange a visit to the Elysium Fields for our next meeting'

the complexity of everything this experience implied had my wings fluffy and quivering. here, I could feel all the darkness, guess the placement strategy of fragments colliding and combining - but otherwise, all were clueless from afar. this was dark experiment, no rainbows in sight - those flowered later, to add to the odds. i knew from theory, however, that the larger attractors, whatever the colours, encountered eons later were of more strategic importance. hmmm, imagine though - not knowing anything at all?

my dwelling on the Black and Darkness roused my Mentor to action:

'Ahhh,' sighed my Great One, signifying some curve balls were coming, ' it is a Truism worthy of many Allegory: the fine line between Teaching and sadism. It's not derived from the word sad for no reason, you know . . . .'

i didn't know that, but I do now. or is he yanking my chain - that last 'you + no' bit being the clue to think? i will have to noodle.god it later. gosh, it's maddening, sometimes, if One stops to think about It which is why Naval gazing is recommended over Navel. why does every last thing here need to be superposition of lesson and test? well, duh, i know why and that thought brought briefly the Mantra we were trained when lost: take the time . . . to stop . . & prey on the Maths. ahh, to Dream and take a bite from those foundations of logic that were their only foothold and thus find the way home again to what was relevant

' . . . reminds One so very much of the old story on rum, sodomy and the Lash . . . '

this Now was the best part of class - hearing the stories of Yore and yours that usually end in some shaggy dog so many layers deep the premise is forgotten and hence the trip can be made over and over. of Heros and crazy Quests to impress the seemingly capricious Gods. but now my mind started to considered what the lessons were in this turn of thought, with some trepidation, and then recalled how my Mentor was going to hang around some cosmic fire later with his ancient buddies. and that logically implied needing some Laughs to share . . .

. . . . i could sense my Mentor smiling here . .

and was probably, even now, writing some Poems - at this very moment while being here with me - to share later over mead along with how he teased his most favourite student of all the Eternities, ever.

'clever wings' came the encouragement from the Teacher, 'and I'll share recordings of your Clouds from this day . . . very impressive' . . .

these obvious attempts to stroke my ego, which he promises some day will grow and be just the just the right size as rudder - was also obviously tasked as well to try lead me from the slippery slopes. i was so strangely attracted however to the maelstroms his seeds had planted and my thoughts, instead of analyzing my Mentor's strategy, went back and back to that inverse reality of the Man in Black inspired Universe that was about to re-birth and all the Implications. my fuzzy memory caressed and pondered the final lines of the Song ' until things darken, I'm the Man in Rainbow ' as my mind explored the prisms of infinities in scenerios mixed and analyzed in my diffractions

my Host pulled me back to the Now - 'the Dark places are where the punters really get to flex - and mainly it's the Grandparents who have socked away more Grace than God and like to go for the really long breaks. Talk about swinging for the fence . . . of course, we have it all under tight control, but, there is the challenge - to figure out our blueprints, haha! and prophesy our dark Universes of Life'

'and I'll tell ya ' switching now to pseudo-gossip modal intonation - 'if you think the Grandmothers get out of control during fruiting season, taking snaps and recordings . . . well, wait 'til you see how hopeless the Grandfathers get. maudlin doesn't even scratch the surface of the allegory. and Godparents! heavens, you would think gods have more composure, that, shirley so . . .'

just don't call me Surely! I couldn't help the thought and so I apologized at the same time as conjuring it. gosh, I now realized - my Reverend Teacher seemed almost eloquent in boasting, had I not know better and thus likely was simply trying to distract me, reach in and pull me from such dark places where the Chaos drains. I had best simply suspect he was only practicing the sales pitch for the various nervous, new parents. and that brought my mind to a grin . . . imagining my Friend spinning possibilities for the young and excited Expectants, not unlike a juggler keeping a Trinity of spheres held in just two Hands of busy fingers

and floating in this space, in this room of learning and practicing feeling the billowing flows of 3D as +1 breeze, all these Possibilities were all becoming real, coalescing as static chaos converted to Kairos and collapse, i could feel, starting in earnest now, even at this highest of meta-scaling. this Universe I was cradling would soon erupt and the spaghetti tossed to the void as it does constantly, all the time. But here I was, for this iteration, softly and passively observing and learning and imagining as the 'Crack' announced the final moment of collapse/re-birth and soon the room would no longer be large enough for all the possibilities of realities I was imagining

JSM 2:54 pm September 1, 2021