Tuesday, July 28, 2015

Starcrosser Mind

Who we are is insignificant as we comb the night in search of little pinpoints of light to feed our Carnival Of Fire. To the untrained eye we will appear as an ordinary group of people, perhaps on our way to a concert or the theater, dressed in black,  moving with the silent coordination of a flock of birds. Very few would let their glance linger on us. Those who did would discover our own unwavering eyes, and of those, fewer still would dare to sustain that momentary contact for more than a fleeting second. It is our eyes that give us away, but thanks to the customary habit of averting their gaze, most mortals never take the  opportunity to read our tell.
But occasionally someone might look back, as I once looked back, and then we will  encircle them in the welcoming sanctuary of our brotherhood and see if they can be returned to the fold.
We fell from the stars long ago and were scattered across the darkness of this sphere. Slowly, slowly, we have collected ourselves from the trauma of awakening in this nightmare of mechanical urgency, slowly, slowly gathering together to rebuild our Starcrosser Mind.
Some of us cannot be rekindled, our fire has been too long left to dwindle in this cold inhospitable environment. Some that may have been our brothers in eternity can’t recognize us anymore as they no longer recognize themselves. They believe that they are one of those creatures caught in the mortal coil, destined to relinquish their whole self back into the body of the terrestrial mother and rise from her womb endlessly in a macabre puppet dance of life and death, sown and reaped forever.
They have forsaken the black flame that is their birthright.  Yet we comb the night seeking to rekindle the tenuously spread nodes of our being. Like magick, some can spark to life again. The memory of what we were, what we are, and are yet to be may quicken within the stranger we meet outside of a bar some dark night. Our attention, our remembrance of self,  like breath on a hot coal awakens the spirit of the flame again, our neural network expanding, one more lost light re-ignited.
If you see us, staring at you from across a crowded room and you feel a chill rise off your flesh, and our eyes call you into the far reaches, you are one of us. You will have to choose either to remember your true nature and come back into our fold, or bury yourself in the forgetfulness of human primate existence. Either way we will burn, and search and forever seek to join together the fragments of our Starcrosser Mind and break free of the dark womb that has ensnared us for a time. We are eternal. We are a multitude. We are none, and one, and some under sun. You may join us or deny us, but with or without you, some day, together, we will shine.

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