Friday, January 7, 2011

Total Exposure

In the dream, I am reaching forward to keep from falling, blinded by the radiance of the light that has come upon me. In this moment, there is no place that is in shadow, & because light is all there is, lacking any contrast by which to find landmarks & bearings brings me to my knees. I, too, it seems, am light; I am swimming in and breathing light. In this indefinite moment, there is no darkness at all. What is this place? Where am I & why am I here? I hear the questions in my mind, & they echo about me, clattering like pebbles on pavement. In this inexplicable moment, there is no place to hide & no place to be, but here, revealed utterly within the complete exposure to this element of light. No voice replies, & I find that I am alone, blinded by the benign radiance that has captured me. Lucid stillness settles around me, body & mind, & settles over the All that must surround me, a mantle like a sky. All falls deeper into hushed presence. All reaches out an incautious tendril of silent curiosity and invitation. I hesitate, not quite sure how to respond. The tendril stirs from its kindly pause, & reaches further, touching me, touching me, oh! Touching me, in depths I did not know possible within my fragile frame; touching with least energy. And yet, oh, oh agony; oh, oh agony—agony of joy-ebullient brilliance! A touch smaller than a pinprick, penetrating my soul with an unendurable lightness of warmth. Oh, agony of joy-ebullient brilliance! Radiating throughout my mystified senses, supersaturating my consciousness, until it seems as though I am flying omni-directionally, but I am still in the midst of All—until suddenly I realize that I have just been embraced——

I awaken.

Tears of charged light roll over my soul as I return to myself.

No answer was required of me. 

© 2011 by Elisabeth T. Eliassen
Image: Human Bulb


  1. This is some deep stuff! You are something. I should be reading more of your work.

    You mystify me.

  2. Thank you, again, Triond Experiment, but I must demur that there is nothing mystifying about me--I am just plain folk. It is life that is mystifying, and therefore a constant source of material to think about and write about. The most intriguing thing is that there are no clear answers, much as we would like there to be.