A Message From Another World
I have observed electrical actions, which have appeared inexplicable. Faint and uncertain though they were, they have given me a deep conviction and foreknowledge, that ere long all human beings on this globe, as one, will turn their eyes to the firmament above, with feelings of love and reverence, thrilled by the glad news: "Brethren! We have a message from another world, unknown and remote. It reads: one… two… three…"
Christmas 1900
Nikola Tesla
Christmas 1900
Nikola Tesla
continued
Moon is fascinatingly captured in the vortex of silver and gold dreams,astonished by our untamed expectations and unsaturated imaginations,mesmerizing us in the crimson,haunting hours,mighty enough to make even the most hesitant man a romantic idealist.Once there was a magnetic rendezvous between the earth and the moon,but it was urgent to let dreams settle the night,and light bipolarize new lives.However, restless shadows of unfilled love,like departing stars,bestrew the rusty sky to separate twilight from dusk,and slither into ebony stillness of a night.Amidst the growing controversy,yearning of the moon imposed a different view of the earth,while the glow of orange,jealous surrounding coated its midnight shape.Naturally,suffering is latent fear to erupt into malice and create intriguing belief in a night wolf -like creature,to frantically howl during the full Moon,generously overwhelmed with golden rays of moonlight, while waiting for the first silvery sunlight to appear above the horizon and remove the curse;and an ingenious life,born out of passion and energized with the lasting longing,surpasses the physical bonds of a real life and transforms itself into uttermost truth,both monstrous and beautiful!Between the two extremities there is an alley of humble,imitating and deceptive perceptions and illusive feelings; ultimately,everyone is aware that beauty is reflection of a moment,and can't be beguiled and exchanged,that once found,a great love remains most beautiful mystery and haunting dream forever. Alas,the truth never reveals itself in a sensible way,thence,you need to choose the most astonishing and unbelievable scenery,for in the end,truth is the simplest yet strangest one.However,appreciating the gloominess and stillness of a night from the perspective of its dwellers,you will find that without dreams to beautify it,your life would be unimaginable.Dreams whirl through celestial spheres, reproducing our lives in the setting of our projected desires,intercede between disputable paths of life and unbeaten ones of death,yet leaving some fragments of our lives deathless.That's the only way we can peer into visionary worlds, bridgeable and favorable to our hopes and endeavors.,to heal ourselves,for we usually dream about what we desire,an antidote for lacking hopes,,..hence,our fears.Such a beauty is symbolical and personal,leading into mystical,dark fantasy,but nevertheless displays itself in the mirror of light,...additionally,it depends on the right reflection,for a mirror is not verity.Because her asset is spirituality, beauty demands your devotion throughout lifetime,don't regard her as a final product you can show to the outer world and expect the same increasing admiration.Besides an irrepressible stream of motivation,it is often favored by devilish temptation to make you relish all the needless and rude,spiritual possession of a young age,when you are most vulnerable and subject to exotic,unexplained changes.And once you know what genuine love is,nothing sensible can stop you from raising your hopes beyond cruelty of sidewalks.
There has been many a morning,when my disobedient thoughts filled with concerns about my undisputed and unending loves slide into heavens,begging for a new romance,like begging for a new life again.And with every rising of the full moon,i look for solace and forgiveness in a lavishly scattered spectrum of moonlight,hoping for the mercy in the loveliness of midnight,for our souls find homes everywhere.
One-time separation had brought relief and made a balance in the outer sphere,nevertheless human spirit is unsettled and unadaptive,gifted with senses but restricted with power to master one's life; therefore,we project our dreams and cravings to the remote,astonishing space,and seldom admit ourselves that the sheen of a first glance has gone forever.
ANYWAY i was enthusiastic to go beyond breezy impressions,and greatly inspired to collect together all the reviving characters and life patterns to escape memory and reason.For when we search for the unknown, love and passion feed our senses,reveal the hidden and depict the unseen;it often happens that we relieve and convey our frustrations,unaware that most of our inner spiritual inheritance is potent and movable to meet its generic forms somewhere out of our sight.And that's when some of those fantastic creatures such as spiritual and divine presences,haunting demons and specters,appear in a shivering and misty atmosphere,and you unwillingly confess that there are astonishing things that we are too weak to follow during lifetime; fear is immense,and we are terrified to accept certain truths,storing them into darkness,like distant, starry destinations we could reach one day;yet,our thoughts travel so fast that it seems impossible to make initial sensation of love renewed,unless we step into a hazy,infertile and timeless zone,exposing our mind and body to devilish temptations.Inevitably,a stunning experience in my life had diminished my hopes of having a spellbound night again.Sadly,there are beautiful and prodigious loves,unhappily abandoned and spurned even in our most inspiring dreams.For me,it was a blackberry night that through mellow darkness, i saw silhouette of a young lady,draped in a long black robe,to ensure me that we are not alone; however,my birthplace is just one of many places to be source of such mystical appearances,for reasons that remain inscrutable.There are weird and grotesque ethereal residents ,but also dignified and sublime,to have found a sanctuary on the edge of sensible and reasonable worlds,,
Out of the silver -sheen obsidian entrance,crafted into the arranged,chromite stones,appeared a tiny,ashy creature,a humanoid species,arousing curiosity by its uncommon hospitality.Some of us wipe away all tears as soon as they fall from our eyes,but these weird creatures hold onto their sparkling,greenish drops, the same ones we see during warm,spring rains,conveying nostalgia of native land they settled once ago.There was a time before the first rumors roared the air and bridged distances,when a massive stone flew from the space and hit one of most attractive places in the universe,to disturb earth's rotation equilibrium by changing her magnetic poles.After the great floods had swept across the lands, only the bravest creatures stayed true to their beliefs,yet,another humanoid species prevailed,forcing them to leave earth,,..they were the first to migrate and settle the moon,.They spent the last days on the earth,by gathering treasure,and hiding themselves underground,which caused them to lose pigment in the skin,and become grayish and olive green. Nevertheless,they kept human characteristics,and at first sight you would think of them being humans.There was an established worship of the gold,accompanied by the appropriate rule to bow before the sacred, picturesque inscriptions,however,meaningless to undiscerning souls.The omnipresent belief was that each letter symbolizes both the beginning and end,depending on the way you handle them,,for words are not from our world,and as everything else to come from another sphere,they are indisputable;we are only obliged to show respect and humbleness,,,and that's when we commonly make mistakes.Then,there are some unpredictable moments of the utter happiness,when explosive passion and unmeasurable attraction to each other,put to the test our ability to go after happiness,but our weakness is dehumanizing ,and we are furiously drawn into misunderstanding,then,morn brings new light, however,just few wrong uttered words make all the affection sink into an indolent expectation of another day.
When the blue moon occupies the horizon i often look at his face trying to decode mystery,unaware that a shadow had already reigned over my senses,that i am a temporary traveler while love is for eternity;i know that my love is too holy,too indescribable,too honest and sublime to stay bound to the earth;that she stubbornly escapes my dreams,pursuing the nocturnal and sacred,spiritual altars forever.However hopeless you may feel,find the truest words within yourself and speak them softly, like whispers of holy scripts and prayers,for only then,it raises mental dominance over your body,and ultimately, rejuvenates you.These spiritual,renewing streams of energies merge with the spherical lines and the cubic patterns,a mystical, refined combination of ions and atoms,however,an omnipresent spiritual energy pretending to change the space and worlds,,and humans as well,,
It is only birds to have adapted themselves to the winds,to recognize exactly where misfortune comes from and in which direction to fly;they keep the wisdom of the centuries,being persistent hunters of nocturnal demons and spells,marking it with shrieks and hoots to raise fear and collect one's dreams, for an unreasonable and fascinating beauty seems demonic anywhere,and only the perfect mirror captures the veritable reflection,,,,if you possess such a diabolic,fantastic shine inside yourself,your beauty becomes variable and inapproachable to everyone but the blaze of moonlight.
Words are alluring and often disguised by malice and hate,which makes me precocious about all the gifts i receive;i am not afraid of natural forces to erupt with madness,but of inhumanity and corrupted spirits to disturb the serenity of a night.There,where you find so much beauty and feel so much love,there you meet a weak,irresponsible soul to bear itself with such ampleness,for one man's idea of immortality is demanding and sinister to the splendor of a moment,.. and such an idea ignites the light we seek for;the thought of eternity is as beautiful as it is painful.
As the talk lasted for a while,i decided to continue speaking our earthly language,and the Ozirian didn't confront me.
One of them distinguished himself from the very beginning of our meeting,and i thought he would be the most suitable for leading me through the helix of harmonic and sparkling transmitters,interrupted with the echoes of cosmic dissonant and cordial sounds every now and then.I was waiting while the whispers of his name were passing from one to another;and finally reached me.They are not allowed to speak it loudly,and i am privileged to call him Ameh.,
-You must have been gravely hurt and lost in dreams,..,nobody looks over the horizon unless his nature is sibling with starry remnants,originating from omniscient sphere,to master life and death,yet nonetheless, everyone was given to see into the omens,,,even so,many live a life filled with material pleasures,not looking more deeply inside themselves,where soul rejuvenates itself during tempting hours of meditation ,,you possess a sparkling inspiration and eternal restless curiosity about life,along with a passion to never end it,, however, no one goes back unless being haunted by his own past-i heard sweetest voice ever.
IT IS TRUE THAT I DREAM a lot,and often,i live another dream before i have the first one, reconciled and revived in the silence of my room,under the auspices of grace and loveliness of a starry night;,.and i am still alone,...but,i don't complain,i am here to learn and know you better.I am very curious to see what a wonderland looked like,when there were no human beings to take it all more seriously.
You think we live just for pleasure,,.we left the earth,however,you have a chance to evolve on your own,,
-I didn't mean to insult you-my thrilling voice shouted-no, not at all!You are so dear and sweet,everyone can love you,which you must agree with me,is a rare accomplishment....i wish to know what caused your exile..
-I am sorry to say-the voice of a brown eyed ozirian came to me-humans have fragile knowledge,and mainly,they are superficial and uncaring about their own lives,engrossed in triviality,and represent a threat for our jubilant days..we take care of each other,no one is ever left alone without support or love...as you do,your kind....
-Will there come a time when we learn to live differently?`~full of enthusiasm and ardently,i asked.
-Seemingly,life unrolls itself ,however,looking back at the past and time to have flown by,you feel,all is about your expectations that you hold and grow withing yourself,that reality is deceiving phantom,mighty enough to take away your dreams,because,a man is deeply embraced by the dullness of a routine life to accept any truth that others created for him;if he only changed his perspective,presuming that every being is a 'stem' with endless possibilities to spiritualize itself ,,you only change yourself from within,for truth is not perceptible! There is more than one life you live now,that's all i can unveil for now,,have you ever felt you could be something more ?
-Hm,,i think i have an answer,..following my own experiences,it's all in ourselves,as we animate our intellect and power of the will,pure ambrosial feast for transformation of the soul,as she is the only one capable of releasing and inverting itself in any form before a life has gone;to attract and absorb cryptic elixir,dispersed across the cosmic spheres,..
Then,they took me to their temple,an imposing granite palace,situated on the bilberry blue hilltop,and while climbing up the spiral stairs,they discovered me a secret....they never sleep,by staying vigilant for a new magic to cure them and allow their dreams grow again...I felt sorry,but their elation and comfort,convinced me that they live a merry life,though.
to be continued,,,,
Ruth Sanderson
Ruth Sanderson is an illustrator of many books for children and young adults
We Have Message From Another World
Nikola Tesla
May you be blessed
With the spirit of the season,
which is peace,
The gladness of the season,
which is hope,
And the heart of the season,
which is love.
HAPPY NEW YEAR~~
He who has not Christmas in his heart will never find it under a tree.
Roy L. Smith
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