...Silent knowledge to speak...

Alexander Volenski


This is the 'Journeys home site' to all LINKS.

Journeys of the Mind: The site to all chapters of the novel.
Geneva: Chapter 1 of 12...Stilly & Harry meet.
Genoa & Savona: Chapter 2
Monte Carlo: Chapter 3
Melody: Chapter 4...the journey continues.
The Meeting: Chapter 5 of 12
Ibiza: Chapter 6...a beautiful Spanish Isle.
Crystal Dreams: Chapter 7...a moonlit night...
The Child: Chapter 8
Volenski's page: This is the 'home site' of all other pages.
Dedicated Love: Chapter 10...and the journey continues.
The Winged Disc: Chapter 11 of 12
The Blue Sapphire: Chapter 12...the 'Journeys' saga will continue one way or another.
Open-Publishing: Publishing, copyrights, licenses--important information.

The Oasis

Journeys of the Mind, (C)1994-2004 A. Alexander Volenski

Chapter 9, unedited excerpts
Location: Ancient Egypt...
Characters: The Egyptian & Ab
Time: Late/Autumn

The Oasis

  The sand sifts steadily from hand to hand very fine and smooth, and as it
tumbles, it seems to slide away like life sometimes seems to slip away.
  Upon the horizon in waves of rolling dunes, the sand of the desert settles
in its guise, becoming a simpleness; and one wonders if these sands are
merely the ashes of a once crystal city where the living use to play.  The
dunes of time slipping and sliding, moving and reshaping this barren, infertile
sterile place, are moved by the wind in arid hot and chilling cold waves;
this ambient motion, a signal for the seeing eye.
  The atmosphere and character of the desert seems out of place upon this earthy
sphere.  For there in that desolate place of a desert, one envisions vegetation,
flourishing tall trees, meadowy greens, and showery storms, flying creatures, and
creatures of the land, where a multitude of passion and enthusiasm would exist.
  The seeing eye and intellect wonder, if this desert region was once upon
a time so embellished.  And if so, why now was it so deficient, detached,
dispassionate, unemotional and restrained.  The blowing wind, irresponsible
and untamed, leaves a very small texture to perceive upon this unproductive
water-less domain of the pitiless kind.  This wasteland is treated harshly
by gusts of boasting bursts, unforgiving self-centered and caught up only
within itself; the winds of punishment.
  And what power will free the dead desert realm?  Who could be the judge
of this now empty place caught up in the vast turmoil of forgotten deeds.
Abused the terrain remains, reflecting perhaps faraway acts of greedy arrogance,
squandering deeds, for what remains upon desert domain seems to reflect the fruits
of such a kind.  Set, in its place, is idle static, insensitive perhaps, but
still set to be also forgiving, for with such absolved release (forgiveness),
dormant, inanimate, immobile, can become animate, vital, elemental.
  Deserted, bleak, forsaken, the vast rolling sands seem, until patterns
are seen, small semblances of form upon distant and nearby sandy hills.
Soft allusive rolling crests curving silky in muted shapes, taking
bodily form, a thigh, a shoulder, feminine breasts, long sensuous legs,
all contoured-outlined upon a canvas of time and sand; the scape of natures
model, profiled crystalline form; 'alienation' (could be) a medium called desert.
  Hidden quietly, perhaps even aloof, is the shy reserved beauty one hopes
to find if only in their imaginings, of a feminine grace residing there, who
is linked to her own beginning.  One looks and marvels as their subconscious 
self, tries to illustrate through the pictured clearness of nature, to show what
may be hidden there; caught within the invisible, a threshold worthy of love.
  Illustraction, and by whom?  What artist without brush or oil, without 
charcoal pen or pencil?  For from whose hand does the subconscious have, to 
display for it in pictured theme here, where nomads roam endlessly.  Still
illustrate it tries, as subconscious reality takes up the wind as scribe,
and desplays for the inquistive perceptive minds of all who pass.  That
they should see, and often only sight is not enough to portray a message,
or even enliven a whisper of words depicting a sincere existing love immured
there.  For even in the great corridors and rooms where paintings hang to
be scrutinized, can we truthfully say that the eyes which see behold the
unspoken message.  And the emotion that endured, lived and was squeezed,
kissed and also felt pain, surely must wonder whether it was worth what 
was given; as the sand-glass trickles on.  The subconscious imagination calls
loudly to the conscious mind, attempting to describe another time and place,
yet dunes are all that appear in the consciousness of the moment.
  Displaying for the mind, the seeing eye blinks, searches, absorbs, and
peers into the light of day, as imagination and reality look for a clue
to a hidden dominion where beauty, mirth, and charm, though hidden, may
reside.  A realm concealed by the lay-lines of time and dimension cannot
be camouflaged from perception, if only perceptive we be!  Now to Melody's love,
known only of present as the Egyptian, as before mentioned.
  The Egyptian and his friend Ab, traveled over this sand of the desert
with a caravan of an ancient past, both heading for an oasis, an important
sanctuary, a haven, a temple, a domain called Siwa.
  The Oasis of Siwa is understood by Ab, for in his mystery he has traveled
to and from it many times.  The travels of Ab are known only to himself,
because he never divulges what he does.  He is a vehicle, a friend, a doer,
for the one who travels beyond in search of memory and self.
  ...Ab in his design follows the fashioned way, learning as he goes,
unraveling as he discovers, touching as he thinks, and he sees that which
has passed by.  He observes the mystery of the individual as it circles,
recycles, dwells, within a composition of its own configuration, and Ab
knows that only truth can manifest the real expressed and original composite.
A composite, stream-lined and condensed, vast and expanding in a multitude
of ways, and also a composite that can be hidden simply in what is called,
'the smallest moment.'
  The Egyptian, Ab, and caravan, amble along in a thin line over shifting terrain
as the sun shines in quietude this day.  Over the sand heaped in meadowy
hills as far as the eye can see, two dark birds fly, aloof and distant they
remain.  Watchful, lurking, constant, for they are always there, and have
been for several days, observing sentries so amused they seem, as the string
of camels move and sway to a cadence natural and earthy; carrying passengers
who direct the way.  ...The caravan stops for the evening, it has been a
long journey, and they have traveled many days, but tomorrow they shall see
Siwa (the Oasis of Siwa) upon the horizon, and on reaching its refuge, they 
shall drink the water there.
  The Egyptian dismounted from his camel and felt the sand beneath his
feet cool and unsteady; the air is dry, the sky clear, the sun setting,
soon darkness will overtake them, and the stars shall shine.  ...Wraping
himself in his long charcoal black robe, he seemed like a dim dark shadowy
spirit, like a 'phantom mirage', surrounded by white sand as he sat alone
in silent contemplation.
  'Thoughts of love comfort the soul which is separated and surrounded by
the vastness of sand.'  As the Egyptian reposed, he pictured in mind the woman
who came suddenly to him while he stood apart one afternoon next to a stream,
however now that had changed, for she had gone away, leaving just as suddenly
as she had appeared.  As he looked to the ring he wore, he was glad she had
given it to him, for with this ring her presence seemed near as he pictured
her smile, and recalled her warmth and kiss.
  'Her face so pretty, her eyes so clear, her lips so sweet, her voice so
dear, her smile so soft, her words so soothing, her spirit so warm,' and
these he still could perceive as he gazed upon her ring; a gift of love.
  ...And he whispered to himself, "kissing never became second nature to
us, because we shared ourselves, and knew kissing would widen our sight."
...Then he recalled their last night together and the following morning.
  When he awoke she was not there, only a 'note' lay upon her pillow next
to him which read, "my dear sweet love, you must remember Siwa, the oasis
of our love."  After reading the note, he had called to the servants and
ordered them to search for her, yet he knew inside of himself she had
gone just as she said she must.  He felt angry and violent because of her
parting, and the note he held with farewell message, seemed to bring the
world in upon him like a thundering explosion which quaked deep inside,
opening an abyss and chasm within himself.  ...Then he felt a great sorrow
and pain, not physical pain, but the pain of the mind and emotion of the
heart, for he had no explanation; 'did love do this to them?'  He had no
answer, she had told him she would go, that was truth in compassion, not
with sympathy, but with empathy and solace, to comfort and help understanding.
...The servants eventually returned with heads bowed low, they were fearful
of him, for they knew his troubled mind might strike out, and he sent them
away asking to not be distrubed by anyone.  When it comes to love, one must
always beware, for love and the emotion which goes with it, may act, react,
in unpredictable ways.
  The Egyptian sitting there in the desert could still feel the intensity
of that morning as he relived in mind what had happened.  ...He had stood
at the edge of the balcony for a long time that morning, gazing toward
the pyramids upon the plateau surrounded by the 'great wall'.  ...'How
wondrous it would have been,' he (had) thought, 'if the pyramids were not
assembled, but grew out of the earthy nature of things.'  And even this
wayward conception, in an attempt to change his mood, to liberate his thoughts,
could not sway his mind from the constant reminder that she was gone.
  ...He knew he was still the same man he always had been, yet something
seemed to be missing, and he reasoned that somehow he was not that same man,
as he struggled with the emotion and passion surging through his body and mind.
He felt as though in his turmoil, he no longer belonged here, nor was a part
of all he controlled.  It was as if he never belonged here in this land
of the ancient past, with all its uncomplicated sophistication and substance.
This life he now lived did not seem real, or for that matter, it did not
seem a part of the total it should be, now that she was gone.
  As he stood atop the balcony with her note still in his hand, he had the
greatest urge to jump and end this life of which he felt he no longer belonged.
And he looked down to the ground below and wondered what would happen if he
jumped, and he felt it would be sudden and painful, however, less painful than
the pain he felt at that moment.
  He imagined himself climbing onto the railing and leaping, flinging, soaring,
down to the hard and immovable stone court yard below.  How purely sudden the
impact would feel as it crushed and splintered his body into a mass of
deadened flesh, and how the blood and brains would be spilt and sent gushing
upon the hard and cold stone; collecting into a clotted pool of jell and ooze.
Even within these morbid and lurid thoughts of the imagined kind, he could
not find release from the pain he felt, and he seriously contemplated really
taking the suicidal plunge.  Unexpectedly, a swallow flew by and perched
a ways down the balcony, its sleek wings glistened, and it looked at him
impulsively, and chirped, turning its head this way and that, spontaneous,
unpredictable, whimsical it was; then it flew up into the air and headed
toward the west.  The Egyptian felt the power within him shift and sway as he
watched the swallow fly away, and its chirping sound continued to echo
through his mind.  ...The Egyptian turned and walked into the bed chamber
and summoned his servants, for he knew he must plan and prepare for a journey
to this place written upon the note, as oasis known as Siwa, a location
in the west.  [And here to return to the desert]
  ...After the Egyptian supped, he relaxed and read while he sipped the
evening tea, asking to be left alone.  And before he went to sleep, he meditated
with himself and asked to know the subject, title, even author, to that
which he must remember.  For until now few clues did he have, only the
bewildering words, 'to remember'.
  As he slept, he dreamt of a clear blue sky with many swallows flying nearby.
His surroundings were creamy and glowing in whiteness, except for the sky so
blue, and in front of him he saw a mirror that reflected his image; a large
vertical mirror that showed his entire body.  He was a young boy, wearing
a cream colored cape with a green trim around the neck, there was a thin
red line bordering the green; he estimated his age to be eleven.  His features
were the same as he remembered himself to be at that age, and he was tan, and
his hair fluffy with a little curl; he touched his cheek with his fingers,
and his skin was smooth and warm.  As he gazed into his eyes, his intellect
spoke and reflected in his mind, and he felt highly knowledgeable; no mental
blocks existed, nor were there any holds which might block what he might do.
  ...Looking from the mirror to his left, he saw sunlight coming into the
room where he stood.  There across the room was a couch with two people
sitting upon it, they were a short distance away.  He walked toward the
couch, and as he did, he could hear the man and woman sitting there, both
speaking to each other.  The man asked the woman, "how long ago?"  The woman
answered, "over 2000 years."
  As he moved closer a thought came into his mind of time travelers, people
from the future.  The man and woman were both very young, and he seemed to 
know who they were, yet knew not where or how he knew them.
  The woman had long blond hair and hazel brown eyes, she was very pretty,
and wore a white with gold trimmed frock.  The garment had long sleeves,
with cuffs also gold trimmed with an intricate design depicting inscribed
single entwined wings, and pinned to her frock was a blue sapphire jewel.
The man wore a similar garment that was white, and it was trimmed in a sapphire
blue with the same intricate design of entwined wings, and pinned upon his
garment was a solid gold medallion.
  As he walked up to them, they both looked in his direction and seemed 
startled at his presence.  He reached out his hand and took hold of the
man's wrist, to see if he was real or a spirit.  The man was real, and as
he grasped his wrist, the man remained motionless.  He spoke to him saying,
"I know this is a dream, are you time travelers, I'd like to travel through
time."  The man's eyes were very dark, he had a slender face, clean shaven
and short brown hair, and seemed very calm in a pleasant way.  The features
of his face were very intelligent in appearance, and expressed a sort of 
truthful understanding.  The man did not say anything to him, and looked
toward the woman who sat on his right.  Then the man said to her, "we must
leave."  And they both just disappeared even though the Egyptian still held the
man's wrist; in an instant they both were gone.  He looked at his hand
which held the wrist, and was amazed how easily the man had escaped from
his grasp.  They both just vanished from the couch and place where he stood.
He continued to stare at his hand, and could see the tiny lines of his palm,
then the dream faded and he awoke.
  ...He arose from the bed and put on a warm robe and sandals, then he stepped
out of the tent.  The night was very dark, there was no moon, but the stars
were bright and shown in abundance, the camp very quiet.  He walked some
distance from his tent and then paused and looked up into the sky to see
the vastness of that world all clustered with stars, and as he looked he
reflected.  "The realm of the sky in its splendor seems so far, seems so
unknown, yet I feel so at home with it that I wonder if I've ever been
there?"  And he mused about the young boy that he appeared to be in the
dream, and the implications of traveling through time, along with the young
couple there in the room sitting on the couch, and he wondered who they
might be.  He also considered how good the place in the dream felt, how
rejuvenating and clean that spirited event had been to his being, how calm
and content the young couple seemed, and he wished to meet them again.
  'Conditions are not invariable, terms not final, thus, a man and woman
look together into space and do not regard the small as too little, nor
the great as too much, for they know there is no limit to dimension.'
And likewise, the complexity of the human character finds no limit to its
dimensional perception.
  The Egyptian continued to watch the night sky, and saw the stars with a
new depth of understanding as he embraced the closeness that emerged within
him towards the young man and woman of his dream.  ...In his meditation, a
fresh confidence began to grow and flourish as though the lightseeds within
the stars were showering him with a peace and melody of their own.  Later
he returned to his tent and felt refreshed in both mind and body.
  Dawn in her unwavering spell, was flying across the sky, charmed by the
twirl of dear Earth, and as she flew, she sang her matins to allure the
mind with the seductions of new day, in a fashion ancient and willful.  Then
the deliberate and calculated force of dynamic inception, opened her eyes
from sweet slumber, and saw the illuminating emergence of Dawn, and smiled,
as rosy-cheek on skyline appeared.
  ...Ab had been awake most of the night, for he found little need of sleep
when he traveled a road upon which they now were committed.  Alone in his
tent, he sipped the tea, and looked upon the small disc that he held in his
hand with its inscribed wings and crystal lens (3inches in diameter, also called
'a mover'), and he rolled the silver like chain attached to it through
his fingers slowly, and he breathed deeply.  Then he put the disc within a
hidden pocket of his cloak, and thought of the ancient temples of Siwa,
the Oasis, and the water there.  And like a father of time, or a grandfather
that wished hope for a grandson, he in his wisdom likewise, thought of and
so viewed the Egyptian.  For Ab knew all there was to know about the Egyptian,
why he was here, what there was to remember, and the truth of the woman
with gift of ring.
  Time to Ab did not matter, for he existed always, it was not possible
for him to not exist.  ...The journey of the spirit to and from the home
of eternity, glides as upon a spectrum beam, and as the rhythm of the human
heart dances to its winged melody within, so too, spirit and heart become
harmonious, gliding and dancing two as one.  As Ab sipped his tea, he thought
of the pyramids so tall and grand, stationed as they were there in a kingdom
from which he and the Egyptian had just traveled.  ...Ab had visited and
walked the halls of that place many times, and he often saw and could read
significant messages carved and etched upon those walls, images which related
and even projected unknowns about himself, as he too searched to fathom his
own mystery and completeness, as it unfolded within a progression of its own.
  Ab, as Melody, was a forerunner reaching toward the beginning.  A tiny bird
flies by and down a long open hallway, then up into the sky disappearing from 
view, vanishing like a spirit may vanish, yet the bird was there just as the
messages are there.  The 'Hall of Records' recorded and displayed in Egypt,
gleam, glimmer, almost speak the hidden messages which are held within the
sculptured patterns carved upon the stone.  And timelessness, within its
infinity, attempts to immortalize the compassionate, hoping someday the
compassionate one will finally read, and realize (find), the hidden message there.
  Rooted in earth, the power of the heavens persist, engender, work and move
toward a fundamental principle.  Clear and pure like spectrum colors of the
rainbow, the dream works with the mind, and is displayed in laughter, joy,
tears and sorrow, and the spirit endures, and the body struggles to stay
intact.  Seeing all of this is the great south wall standing near the pyramids,
and in dwelling silence the south wall exists motionless, abiding as the
melody of the desert captures, covers, and embraces all with its sand of time.
  ...Ab sat in his silence thinking, remembering, recalling, reliving in mind
a once spirited dream that remained foremost in his memory.  A dreaming place
it had first appeared to him, and from that vision, he had set out to find
that realm which he knew existed.  ...Then with the help of the Winged
Disc, he had traveled and visited that place many times as an observer only,
witnessing and recording events which took place within the presence of a woman
and man who alone met there.  Closing his eyes and setting the cup (of tea) down,
Ab leaned his head back to recollect one of those visited events.
  Up high in the palace one sees the sun shining on the sea, waves of the
water are buffed by the wind, a breeze touches the body as it blows, revitalizing
the skin like an inner pulse.  She came dressed as an Egyptian Queen, and
asked the man standing near, if he knew of his three children.  The man was 
tall and lean, blue eyes like the Egyptian, and he replied asking, "where
did you hear I had three children?"  She answered, "the children told me."
  They both stood in a room of octagon shape with six windows, but it seemed
that half of the room was floating on another level.  Her height was shorter
than his, and moving closer to her, the man asked, "are you married, what of
your husband?"  The woman, answered, "what husband?"  Then she stepped even
closer to him and touched his arm, and the man seemed to sense that this woman
was from an ancient time, and that she knew of the meadow named 'Ra'.
  He gazed at her face and as he did her shape and appearance transformed into 
that of a young girl, perhaps to show him how she must have looked when very young.
It was apparent this woman could alter her appearance.  The man then asked
her, "do you have any men, or a lover?"  Looking up into his eyes, the woman
answered, "I have been every type of woman and man."
  The woman was very beautiful, smooth pearly skin, deep dark eyes, yielding
lips, and very fine long blond hair.  The man looked upon her, his hair brown
with streaks of amber golden tint and slightly curled, his skin smooth and
tanned.  She leaned against him, placing her arms upon his shoulders, and he
took hold of her shoulders and tipped his head down toward her's, to give her
a kiss.  Then suddenly she altered her appearance into that of a man.  A man
with thick curly black hair, a beard, and a very hairy chest.  This change in
shaping startled the man holding her shoulders, and he quickly moved his head
back and asked her with his mind (telepathically), "why are you so hairy,"
referring to the bearded appearance and woolly chest.  That telepathic thought
surprised her, for she hadn't realized he had such an ability, and instantly
she changed back into the very beautiful woman she was and smiled at him.  It
was evident she was 'joving' him with her shape-changing, just to see his reaction,
and to learn if he was aware of entities with such abilities.
  Then she put her arms around his neck and whispered in his ear, "I just washed
my hair."  And in a mild tone he said, "your very beautiful indeed."  Smiling back,
she responded, "please don't tease me."  Looking into her eyes, the man leaned
forward again to kiss her, but she faded away before his lips could touch her-lips,
and likewise the man disappeared too.
  Ab mused to himself and murmured, "perhaps two winged ones from the other side
of space, such a shame I hadn't found out where."  The moments in dimensional
witnessing, all but seem too soon gone away.  Being wise, also means, being able
to be unknown.  ...Ab hoped he could find them again and even converse, at least
enough to tell them of his presence.  However a wind of caution touched those
momentary thoughts of Ab, and he realized until he knew more of them, he too,
best remain unknown.
  The passions are to the mind, what motion is to the body.  Pleasure must
be augmented and pain diminished.  Sensuality brings beauty to the body, and
erases the morbid marks.
  Opening his eyes, Ab reached again for his cup of tea, and bringing it to
his lips, he sipped.  ...It was then that the door of his tent opened, and
the Egyptian entered.  "Good morning," the Egyptian said.  Standing, Ab
greeted him in the usual way, and they both sat down and began to speak
of the journey ahead, and the water of Siwa.
  Siwa, was known as an island of the blessed, one of the 5 great Oracles
of the Ancient World, with a spirit hidden in a stone.  The mystery of Siwa
spoke of a fountain of the sun, head of a ram, a bull, an avenue with black
stone lions, and fields of palm.  The Ammonians, famous and ancient, who resided
at Siwa, could speak the future.  Ramese III, knew Siwa, Ham, son of Noah, knew
Siwa, Cambyses, also knew Siwa and the evil wind that destroyed his army.
King Croesus, Herodotus, Lysander, Pindar, Calamis, Alexander the Great,
all knew Siwa, and of the water there.
  'Oh sacred spring that gushes with warmth and bubbles in the night, oh,
sacred spring that pours so cool in heat of day, from where do you come, and
where have you gone?  Oh, sacred spring under the sun, when will you awaken
the Oracle, and speak of the human again, speak of the mysteries so hidden away,
when will all come to the light of day?'  Then two Black Doves came to drink
the waters of life, and flew away, perhaps protectors of that island realm,
situated and surrounded by a desert of time; or no-time as (lost) history reads.
  ...The great migration of antiquity, continues emerging, appearing, 
carried along within its own interval of actuality, ever attempting to be 
free, free of the uncomfortable night of nothing.  A King built a temple 
with triple walls, rocky eminence, palm groves, and a stone granite palace.
Within the palace were four courts, and in each court there was a statue.
When the sun of day caught those statues in its light, the statues would
speak, speak and tell the future.  Seven steps, a humming sound, four gates
of brass, a magic lake, God of Prophecy, grove of palms, underground passage,
fountain of the sun, evil wind, black doves above, spirit in a stone spoke
for love, sacred island Oasis of Siwa, temple of Ammon, the Ammonian's Ancient.
  It was middle-day when the Egyptian and Ab arrived with caravan at the 
Oasis of Siwa; a place of results for the one who must 'remember', and Ab
would help the Egyptian.  (Yet) even with the vehicle of the Winged Disc,
to travel through levels of time, Ab recognized there was much more to 
understand and realize about the gist of it all.
  One can imagine and even see a grand view, and then came details, contours,
outlined shapes, places, happenings, people, events; many pieces to a puzzle
have to be fit, before all is perceived as it is meant to be seen.
  Ab, as with Melody, traveled the concourse of time, reading as they went,
viewing as it took place, and in all of it, they both knew, unless they found
the true course that was part of themselves, they may not reach their own
true beginning.
  Stilly and Harry, were a blend of 'bonded love' which reached from within
itself into another dimension, and because of its unique design, they conceived
and carried that conception to a dimensional plain where it may link with
itself.  Thus, what was conceived as Melody, came over as the love child of
Stilly and Harry, and was born in a time and place where her complete self
and love could unite.
  ...And all along the way, there were the continuous interactions, emotions,
human unpredictabilities, and commitments human and elemental, that once in
motion 'blew as the wind, as swift as an arrow'.
  Always in constant flux unlimited dimensions, with many variations on a
theme, yet with Truth, and the generous sharing of Truth, full-circle
resides, where self completeness can be found and does exist.

[Next: chapter 10, Dedicated Love;
note: the text here is yet to be proof read.]

                                         This page created April 98