Buried Yet Breathing13.

“We are so glad to see you!” The spirit spoke in a soft tone, while touching his face.

“We thought we were abandoned here for eternity, but your presence gives us hope!” Another spirit standing behind him sung out.

“We want to know how you will bridge our divide!”

Some were very touchy, desperate for connection and beyond hopeful for a savior. Others stood back and observed, formulating questions wiser than the rest. Some talked amongst themselves, pondering his importance and what this could mean for everyone.

They were many: easily a hundred or more, and all trapped in this dismal, distant prison. Their numbers were overwhelming in abundance, as well as their inquisition. They all dressed the same (and the same as him): an off-white suit covering their entire body. And everyone, though distinguished from one another, had the appearance facially as old or elderly. The variety of voices made him question their approximate ages, as they were not all on the verge of death. He assumed his appearance looked similar.

The questioning continued, from all sides. Processing it all was not an option. And how is it they looked to him to be some savior, or the guide to salvation?! He felt the least qualified. In fact, they should be leading him! They, at least, knew this place and had time to think and devise plans. He was the new fish and in very deep water.

Amidst the clamoring, touching and verbal aggression, he willed himself to ascend off of the ground, and so it was done. With arms outstretched, the others became silenced and awaited his utterance.

For a moment, he surveyed the expansive lot of them. All of them standing, and all of them in groups of 5. He made eye contact with many of them as he spoke. “I know nothing about from where I came, and I know nothing about this place nor where I will go next. Who can I be to you, when I do not even know myself? How can I lead when I know less than to follow?”

Another murmuring overtook the canyon they inhabited. A garble of mass communication flowed like foul sewage from the geyser they called their mouths. Then a voice rang out, louder than all the others, dusting a film of silence over all. The voice sounded musty and seasoned; deep and elusive. “We have been here many eons. Not another soul has come forth from the chasm, save one, forever. This, my friend, is the sole basis of our reverence for you. You have come, or have been sent, and there is great meaning behind it. It must set us free. We all sense it.”

Cheers and bellows of agreement erupted from practically all in attendance. The very ground they hovered above vibrated with the intensity of their commitment to their apparent belief.

The apparition spoke again, this time with more passion and greater direction. “And did you not get called out of this place almost as quickly as your timely arrival? Only to be sent back? These factors awake us greatly to the knowledge that you are individual. Unique. Exclusive. And we all, including you, my friend, want to understand why.”

Without time for response, more spoke out, barely waiting for a turn. The verbal chaos consumed him, driving him away.

With great expression, on bended knee and full of passion, a timid spirit questioned, “Have you seen The Promise Keeper? Is He angry with us? Why does He abandon us?”

Another cut him off. “What is His plan for us? Are we to be incinerated as some have forewarned? Is there no cleansing and acceptance for us, ever? Why must we suffer in separation?”


Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: