My Time With The Blind

My time with the Blind Tribe taught me to see.
The Blind urged me to trust unconditionally, to trust what cannot be seen.
In the swirling darkness, midnight black with a ripple of gray, I would feel myself spin, faster and faster. The void would open up before me as wide as I wanted the mouth I once had to open and set me free with a scream. There was no down or up or right or left, no body large enough to gravitate towards, just endless empty blackness swallowing itself.
What was I when I departed from the earth spinning and screaming that soundless scream?
The Blind Tribe dug a hole in the ground long after I departed. It was large enough for them to crawl in together and sit around a ring of smoldering coals, unable to see one another, but able to smell each other sweat.
The old woman would not go in with them for fear that she might loose consciousness and free fall as I have. Her stiff legged gait carried her over the earth along serpentine pathways surrounding the hole. Upon the Earth’s dusty hide her feet drummed out the sacred rhythms that invoke the nameless.
Once, in only semi darkness, I danced to those rhythms with a coy dog. His spotted coat shimmered under the flicker of candle light. The coy dog put the executioners mask over my head and let his little bitch put her blade to my throat. A chorus of voices asked me, "In whom do you place your trust?"
"In myself" was my answer.
In all that I can ever know.
Gaining velocity, I could feel the soundless scream contort into silent laughter. I lost my lost in a somersault of I am, I am, I am. With my no shape I pass through another no shape, neither attracted nor repelled. There is no other to whom I might gravitate. I am I.
I am a dragon, and a coy dog, and an old woman, and a she bitch.
I am the one who got carried away.
I am the six rayed star.