Heaven Rhythms

The sky…

Up and down, left and right, fire and water, light and wind, crazy and beautiful, and finally, the big bang. All across the plane of an existence, never-ending. Felt in every mountain, every sea, every deep cave, every skyscraper, those delicate, watered sounds. A second, another second, a minute, another minute. The colors that appeared and glimmered were unlike any creature had ever seen before. They are against change by nature, they are afraid of the unknown and the misunderstood, the loners and freaks, the dead and the undead, but this time it was different. Black spirals, white vortexes, pink tornados, red rays, orange spray and dust, brown whirlpools, yellow dots, gray lines, green circles, squares and triangles, cyan bubbles, blue smoke, violet frames, dancing and laughing from there to over there and there and over there were the entire skyline of the cosmos, a dancing of mass luminescence, both active and passive, a whirlwind of lively death. Nothing living uttered a single sound; nothing breathed a single breath; nothing moved a single muscle. Pure, dirty awe. Ethereal mixing came; every dance move followed by a particular color pattern. Delicate black timbres, pendulums, horizon to horizon in brush form, and music made love by the heaven choreography. For a moment (that seemed like every single moment into one, the moment every conscious being yearns and searches for), every blank mind, every black heart, every impossible question, every incoherent doubt, every power big or small, every putrid love, every fiery hatred, every rose inside a stomach, every pause and wait and hurry and game, every language remembrance, every rugged touch, every fun in a funeral and every tear in a birthday, filled itself with bliss and joy and inexplicable laughter inside. A joyous occasion to end all joyous occasions it was, to be freed in mind and body, to be chained and to be unchained, to lose it all only to gain it all only to lose it all and gain it all over and over. The end of the night, a strangeness becoming one and strangeness no more. The light brighter than the other lights above them all, the eternal struggle; yes, please, no, please; a moment and many moments, the meeting of the eyes with many eyes, with all the eyes; the cycles beneath the other cycles. A parade of floating parts, flesh immersed in bliss, grace enveloped in clouds as strong as arms, as big as planets. There were no longer many worlds and one heaven, but one world and all the heavens at last, fulfilling every desire, fixing every desolate soul, saving every kiss to return it ten times more lovingly, ever need taken care of, every caress was to be felt, the embrace of those who had left, and those who could not reach, and those who did not know what, why, or how they came to be. Art above, answers above, absolution above. The heights clapped in thunder, the depths howled in ecstasy, the land rich and plentiful, every head looked up, up, up with a smile on each face and mask, and the troubles, all the troubles and conflicts were no longer the conditions of life.

…is falling apart; heaven is breaking under its own weight, and will crush everything that exists under it.