On Tellus, (in the early days (so to speak), ) in the alabaster and passing fair research centres that rejoice in the divine glow of the Eternal Yerushalayim, the challenge of measuring and recording atemporal nonsilmultaneous change had been solved, but *This* Beloved had chosen to forgo such a device in her faringnest. Not willing to wait/skip/journey for others to uncover tesssering (or even FTL drive), content she was to rest and joy her spirit in the infinite heart of her Lover while her flesh slept across the interstellar distances. When she got there, she would get there.
Meanwhile, He sometimes sends her soul dreams. Dreams of memory, of childhood's physical exhilaration, maidenhood's wonder in growing awareness of her senses, long weary working and waning years of increasing yearning to be one with the beauty, the intricacy, the dance, the stillness, the fire and ice. Of a particular exquisite ethereal lustre not to be found on Tellus itself in this age. But all creation is theirs now, and all eternity. At the kairos for it, she will revel in it! be united with it! understand it fully and see His mind and joy and care in it! Until the longing is at last fully and satisfyingly sated. Then will come a different kairos for another longing—sister, or child, to the other: translation.
Pressed down, shaken together, and flowing over into irresistible sub-creation. Outpouring, outpouring, outpouring! Words to be shapen, thoughts into clarity, sensation saved and painted and knitted together with emotions captured and fit for transfer. Assemblage, refining, cataloguing, linking and back-linking visions to treatises, diagrams to dreams, angles to angels, experience to exegesis while the inescapable theme of love/beauty, love/beauty, love/beauty beats life beneath it all. All to the Lover's glory! To carry back to her brothers and sisters and say, "Look! Look what He has shown me! See what I have seen, feel what I have felt! He gave me this for you! Praise Him!" Hair raises on her quiet skin as her eyeballs leap back and forth beneath their lids. The nest fared on.
And all throughout creation, nests are faring, and craft flying. Ships are crewed, spacetime folded and unfolded, gates built, depths plumbed and secrets revealed. Hearts speaking unto hearts, hands unite, and minds kythe, all in ways yet unuttered and unknown to unveil the myriad glories of Love.
@inklings-challenge 2025
Team Tolkien
Time Travel
Blessed are they who mourn, for they will be comforted.
Status: Unfinished? I would like to insert another chapter or two describing her arrival and first moments at her destination, but I do believe it stands on own as it is. What's your opinion? Does it hold together? Do you think you know what she is longing to commune with? You can check below the cut for a hint.