Wednesday, March 7, 2012

These are the days of EL RANCHO TEXACO ..... the Maze

This is not a regular posting. It cannot be, since I channel things as they are happening. And What I am tasting now, still unfolds. The scents are new. The experience is difficult to describe. He who calls himself 'the wind a the lonesome pines' is not with me. He seems to have just evaporated.......


The Big Poo-Poo woman led them between two rocks. And beyond was a fissure cutting deep into the hillside. Whether wrought by the hand of 'man' (The Tuva-Tuva are still human, you know) or carved by the spirits of the place is unimportant. God uses many tools. Fingers or raindrops. It's all the same thing.


Smooth undulations of dark red jadeite formed the walls. And a fire from an unseen chamber sent flickering, orange shadows out to greet them. No one said a word. All was silent, save for the electric hum of the Hover-Round and an assortment of soft footfalls as the eleven   Earth folk warily ventured in.


Soon they saw the room, a domed space, like a primal Pantheon, or a Pueblo hogan carved from stone. A narrow shelf ran 'round the perimeter. And seated upon it were ten Orange elders. The pet bob-cat scampered in to meet others of it's breed, for perhaps twelve or thirteen of them lounged about the place. 


The Big Poo-Poo woman 'parked' her incongruous chariot in a specially prepared niche and hobbled up out of the vehicle. Someone (I'm not sure who) brought her a fine, soft robe made from day-bat skins decorated with tiny turquoise beads punched from the carapaces of the 'big-blue' locusts and draped in 'round her shrunken form. She took a seat upon the shelf (actually more like a raised platform), and gestured for the 'others' to sit down. A large pillow of  sorts materialized for Miss Sissie. Bart helped his wife arrange herself, before sitting down to join her.  The remaining refugees did without.


Then the old Tuva-Tuva woman gestured with her hand and the Orange elders exhaled as one, filling the chapel with a rich, fragrant smoke. Sinuous tendrils of this exotic vapor snaked through the ether disappearing up into the nostrils of their Earth folk guests. Five heartbeats later, Miss Monica began to giggle. And  after fifteen heartbeats laughter filled the room, as sleepy bob-cats languorously played with ghosts.......


That is all I can tell you now. The rest is yet to come.......


O_O_O_O_O_/l\_O_O_O_O_O


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