Walking in The Forest

          12/19/14 Walking in The Forest by Alex Kartelias

Walking in the forest, I could hear the sound of chattering teeth and grunts, bouncing off of the tress. The moon peeked out of the edge of a long black cloud and the branches waved its forlorn hands in the wind, its fingers flickering like a candle flame. An owl who-ed behind me, causing me to jump forwards, landing on a tree stump the size of a boulder.

          Laughter responded to my accident and I lifted my head up in freight and kept my entire body still, except for my eyes which searched the darkness around me. Small wings flew around me, but they must have been dragon flies. But then, I saw a million of them. They came soring around me, circumambulating me like the kabbaa. They formed a perfect circle around me and as more and more came in, the circle grew bigger and bigger. Their wings were gray with age but red with energy and force. Their beaks were the yellow of candle wax. Their eyes stemmed with penetrating stares at their flying partners, conforming to the general flight.

          Refusing to move- in case they decided to dive at me- I eyed as many stones as I could with my feet. Would there be enough for everyone? Forget two: has anyone ever killed fifty birds with three stones?

          This thought arose a laugh in me and even though I successfully suppressed any visible sign of laughter, they knew. All of them screamed a cacophonic melody, causing the wind to freeze in fear. My temples pressed against my brain and my limbs sunk into the ground, the hair on my limbs branching out like leaves.  

          All of a sudden, the scene before me lit up: These birds were not birds- because they’re legs were too small and their beaks weren’t protruding from their mouths. They were maidens- beautiful blonde hair with curving hips and breasts- but with mouths full of blood with shark teeth, revolving back and forth like a car engine, grinding the grime of their last meal down the tree trunks of their throats. Angel nor demon would be accurate. No word exists to describe it. Their grins- wrapped around with their red and purple lips- have never met the light of day. The moon starred down upon my neck, my eyes blinded by the sudden illumination. Looking around me, they all were sitting like obedient dogs, with their hands resting on the ground in front of them, their mouths open with excitement. Red saliva was drooling from their smooth cheeks, landing on the ground with an audible splash.

          My feet randomly twitched, causing them to yelp in the air, the maiden in front of me jumped in the air repeatedly. Two of the maidens on it’s sides were holding it down with their feet, holding their friend down from flight. Suddenly the whole pack of them started panicking. One twitch after another, the whole crowd began yelping and barking, like they were trying to control their erected hunger from exploding, wanting to save the fireworks for the final bang.

          But all of this only caused me to twitch even more, the shivering traveling down my hands. Suddenly the wind picked up and the tress waved in rhythmic imitation of my dance, the birds laughing as a pool of saliva was soaking my surroundings, its height growing with the crescendo of the night.

          What was I do? I couldn’t do anything: my body refused to listen to my commandments. In utter frustration, I bit my lips and jumped out of my body and into the air. As soon as my foot left the top of my head, all of them jumped forward at it and began humping it, kissing it and biting it repeatedly, tearing it to shreds.

          Twirling around in the air as I sored higher and higher, I smiled- free of the inclosing grip of my cheeks and the salivating interruptions of my mouth. I screamed and shouted, free of the caged lungs and rattling and rusting vocal cords. My smooth hair flowed in the air, my transparent nightgown spread out against my white form. I no longer had a shadow to hold me down. No more.   

 

 

Dante's Divine Comedy, Artist Gustave Dore

 

 

 

Afterword:

Written 4 years ago as of the publishing of this post, these demonic-angels represent both beings which purge evil/darkness from the soul ( Purgative sirens) as well as the soul itself in a state of insatiable hunger (his angelic half in that form of succubus’s).  Subject/perceiver equals object/perceived.

The forest represents the darkened unconscious and spiritually immature psyche of the protagonist. As Carl Jung would point out, The Circular surrounding at once suggests the Heavenly Jerusalem in The Book of Revelation and a Mandala (microcosm of all levels of Reality). And this particular Circumambulation represents the Imaginal Realm particular to the soul of the protagonist (as Ibn ‘Arabi would point out).   

The Upward leaping of the protagonist out of its body is interesting because it shows how though the protagonist is in a state of inward and outward certainty, fear being alone what he is aware of, faithfully acting upon the fear and trusting his ability to leap allows him to be transmutated from out of his physical body and the rest of himself (spiritual elemental body, etheric body and truth body) flies upward much like those demonic-angels. Except that his nightgown gives him a Symbolic sense of superior Purity than those angelic-demons. At this point as well, he has now Realized to a certain level, the Angelic and Feminine aspects of his being.