Just a touch of joy I feel, looking down upon the sea of sleepers. It is pitch black, except for the few lightbulb islands I spy strewn across the horizon while I idly hover above. The sleepers did good work today and now they rest. They did my work. Some of them, anyway.
It is timid indeed, this sensation. Joy. The word sits oddly on the tongue. It brushes against the walls of the cavernous space at the core, striking a spark. The spark flares momentarily but dies down just as rapidly and then it is back to empty again. This will be a process, I suppose. I should have time to see it through, legend has it, yet I feel an urge to resolve it ASAP; quickly fill the blank space within, and move on to another grand, ineffable design. Been a while since I came up with one of those. I do work in mysterious ways. Mysterious to me too, sometimes.
See, I have been at this for an eternity now, operating, vigilant, oblivious, and omnipresent, sometimes wrathful, and other times benevolent. Most of the time plain absent, incapable of heeding all the prayers sent my way. Rinse and repeat over millennia and I burned the candle down too much. I am running on fumes now, as the sleepers like to say. Spending most of my time/losing myself in my raven form, rudderless and swept far and wide by the currents. How do I rediscover purpose?
And yet the light touch I felt in that precise moment, cannot be mistaken for anything else than joy. I recognize it for what it is and realize I want more. And why wouldn’t I? I made all of this. The emotions, the highs, and lows, the vast emptiness that ensues too. If I was the model (details are hazy by now, I must admit) then yes, there is a whole lot of empty that comes with the human condition. Yet it leaves its own indelible mark, joy, and I wonder – where have I been all this time, not noticing, not savoring it?
It is something to take pride in, I suppose, observing the sleepers’ many accomplishments of the day. Tomorrow, I may add one of my own too. That would be expected. Tomorrow.
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