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Walking in the Garden of Ma'at

Restriction: Use an ear as inspiration.

I’m quite sleep-deprived today and I had this little hallucination of a story come to me while walking around listening to Lykathea Aflame - Elvenefris, one of my favoritest strangest album discoveries of the last ten years.

Walking in the Garden of Ma’at

As we all wake from our winter slumber, the pulsing beat of promise rises from the barren ground. The grumbling sound of thawing earth vibrates into my bones as I lie here, fluffing the matted hairs on my tail. It is time to rise.

I step out of my boll to the burbling happy sound of thawed snow running down the two-walkers’ false stone highways. The sun pounds down, making my eyes water with its beauty. Salvation for all of us four-walkers, an almost audible roar of warmth from its disc. Wind-borne whispers lead me to the clacking sound in the ground, where my last cache of winter-dessicated walnuts lies. As I crunch them, I hear the glorious texture rattle in my skull. The breeze carries urgent rhythms in the air, alternating with lulls that fill me with a strange peace.

I stop and listen to the two-wings now. Their clamor in the trees signals the coming of spring. They assemble the shiny garbage left by pale two-walkers into glorious nests for their eggs, which ring out a silent chime that fills this garden through the sky and out to the blackness beyond.

categories: 365 writing