IN THE WINGS OF TIME

I stand at the edge of the 100-foot crater, mesmerized at the sight of the villagers as they chatter, waist-deep in water, picking live fish.

I wake up to the rumble of thunder as it rolls from one end of the village to the other. It is extraordinary. The sound of thunder with no lightning. Curious, I get up, cross over to the window from my bed, and I stare in utter amazement.

Before my very eyes is a crater, not a 100 feet away, filled to the brim with sparkling, dancing water. I rub my eyes, thinking I am in a state of dream world; but the scene remains. In a matter of seconds, the water becomes alive with fish, jumping to their hearts' content, their silver scales send slender lasers that temporarily blind me. I close my eyes, and when I open them, I see the villagers streaking to the crater, their chatters and voices rising in top crescendo as they descend into the water to fill their baskets with fish.

This isn't happening, I say to myself. This is a dream. I pinch myself, I feel the nip on my arm, and look again at the scene before me. Yes, it's there: crater, water, fish, and villagers. I stand transfix by the window, my mouth agape, my mind a whirl of confusing images. As in a state of shock, I feel my feet running, my breathing becomes heavy, my body, an exercise of movable parts, tiring, tiring, tiring...

In the midst of the riotous confusion of screams, joyous chatters, and bodies splashing, a thunderous rumble rise from within the crater. Is it only me who hears it? I come to a sudden stop, inches away from the crater, and yell my head off for the people to take notice. But my voice is swallowed by the deep sound of thunder, and the rippling, sparkling water becomes a huge wave that engulfs every man, woman, and child into the center of the crater. The fish disappears, a dark, onimous cloud, rolling over the mouth of the crater, descends upon every living, breathing thing. The silence that ensues is frightening.

I look around, desperate for help, and notice that I am alone. The village is quiet as the dark cloud slowly dissipates. When the crater clears, I look down into its gaping hole. It is empty, devoid of water, fish, and people. I fall down on my knees and sob.

I wake up from my deep and sorrowful reverie, my heart wounded, I spread my wings that span the diameter of the crater, and I fly away, like the eagle that I am.

Copyright by Liciary
October, 2001