Chapter Two

Fifty thousand miles we chased the light. Back and forth across the vast stretches of time we devoured the dirt. The sound of our clenched teeth, grinding over gritty particles of sediment echoed deep into the ancient canyons. We were water surrounded in an archaic, barren oasis. Like long lost children we stared in awe at our ancestors in the northern Utahan backdrop. Together we stood where prehistoric fossils jammed together in an overcrowded dam, burst through the barricade and were swallowed up for millenniums by overlapping dust storms. Our distinguished past, proud and wondrously prominent had sifted away; it had been choked out by time, the ultimate destroyer.

Before we were granted comprehension, or more accurately accepted true, unequivocal reality, we were two atoms undefined. When we bonded, covalently, we became something different. We became the true essence of ourselves. Each of our own traits were fortified, magnified, identified. Once bonded the characteristics of each other poured as that of an endless fountain. We filled the valleys in love. It flooded the Piedra, the San Juan, the Rio Grande. So much water, so much life.

Along the initial journey we lost the concept of what we were to the world, or at least I did. I thought only in our present perfect moment. I forgot entirely all about our past. No, not our past before we were one, but the past that shapes all of us. That time where the world teemed with life. That time where the world seemed to pour over, flooding itself with love and light. So much love that new species spawned and roamed in its’ wake. Swimming, caring, freely floating. A gregarious congregation of a collapsed civilization.

There once was a sea, a tremendous body of water. Now it is us, standing here alone in the dry, crackling limestone seabed. Before the presence of humanity fresh water was abundant. It freely flowed unscathed by the pendulum of eruptive behavior. We stand in the graveyard as one trickling drop of water. As we continue on our free flowing, wondrous course, we will once again create a sea.

You will flow with the Virgin River, channelling down The Narrows, meandering through the Patriarchs, swallowing the maroon sandstone with each swath. We will meet up with ourselves while you flow South, and I westward along the Colorado River. I will race down the mountains towering toward you, foaming at the mouth, spitting and sputtering ice cold whitewater while plunging over boulders and carving the Black Canyon of the Gunnison. I will build momentum while fiendishly eager for your embrace by shredding the walls of Glen Canyon, meandering the Horseshoe and plummeting fast down the Grand. When our hands interlock we will tunnel through the Nevadan wasteland, crushing the Hoover Dam with all our strength and forcibly flow down the Mead into the Pacific. We will take down the grid that has notoriously destroyed natural marine life and vanquish the unrelenting, inexhaustible indelicacies of man. Through love, through light, through water.

Before we submerged into the icy depths of the Snake River in the North, we followed alongside the edges, watching, staring out in awe. From the three nipples to the thermal geysers we waited. Then, in those moments we were timid. We scarcely knew the limits of our fluidity. Possibly the fear of the Cuyahoga surged through our veins. The fear of man reducing our liquified love into a fiery inferno. The whole of humanity was captured in a single fire. All of the world’s water lay flat, silent. A shiver ran down the back of each wave, of each trickling droplet.

A fractured self, from a time before would have retreated from the water and become stagnant in a green, slimy cesspool of self-loathing. Not now, not ever now. Now, as three as one, we just keep flowing. The water pushed us to the West. Before we reached the northern Pacific we flowed along the Green River in Washington. We aimed for Olympic. The appeal of ocean and rainforest made trickles of drool flood out our mouths.

In the Hoh the water flowed endlessly. A harmonious act of nature resonated deep in the woods. The sky omnipresent, gray glints of saturated cloud hovered around the mountain peaks. From here it all starts. It builds, slowly and gradually. The endless trickling of raindrops. Mother Nature’s most precious gift to the world. All life forms and flourishes. Life on life on life on life. Dripping moss growing off of moss that grows off moss from a mossy covered tree. Deep greens, yellow greens, forest green. So much life. So much energy. The eyes welled up in water. Water pours from the pores adding to the saturation. So delicate. So meticulous. So vibrant.

The last of its kind on this continent, finally, finally left to remain. From mountain to sea life starts here. Right here. This is the basis of everything the world has to offer. We followed the flow of all the rivers in the country, we traced the oceans with our palms; all of them led to here. To this moment.

The fog that hung in the valley is a symbol of clarity now. It speaks to us with its’ wetness. It glazes our bodies with a beautiful film. Our aura is illuminated, our souls are cleansed. Ah yes, truth is now. What a change, what a wonderful new reality. A mind can change, a heart can mend; I believe it now. I believe in love.

Chapter Three

%d bloggers like this: