I Dream of Purple Skies Revised
I Dream of Purple Skies
The Transition
I enter the Dark Tunnel, but the coming Light is not a question; fear is a language I have already begun to forget. The darkness is merely a pause, shattered by pinnacles of brilliance— first in flashes, then in steady pulses of hope. I crawled through the decay of the last world, but here, I walk. I have no voice for the "in-between," that sacred transit where the soul is unmade and remade, focused only on the Forward. I see my hand, yet it is not the hand I knew. I am being guided Home, anchored by a trust that has finally outgrown the borders of my imagination.
The Un-Night
The "un-night" recedes as the flashes quicken. I move without feeling my way, for I am no longer walking; I am led. The Unknown has lost its teeth; Faith has fulfilled its promise. In this tunnel, transition is the ultimate freedom. I have waited a natural lifetime for these final steps, aware of a body that is no longer a burden, but a garment of light. The Light reaches for me as a Mother draws her child close, absorbing my likeness into something otherworldly— a version of "me" that the previous world could never have authored.
The Gift of Will
I still possess my Will, yet it retreats to the softest shadow of my mind. I shed the "entitlement" of choice, realizing it was a loan, never a possession. I stand in a realm that demands a healthy, holy respect. I do not deserve this New World, yet it is offered as a Gift. The Light hugs the marrow of my being, rewriting my DNA into a frequency where I can simply Be— divorced from pain, scrubbed clean of shame, leaving the Previous World like dust on a discarded coat.
The Landscape of Majesty
At the tunnel’s end, I am symbiotic with the Glow. We move like magnets, a rhythmic dance of color and grace. I emerge into the Endless: To my left, brooks and ponds mirror the shifting heavens; To my right, oceans that have never known a storm. The sky is a crowning achievement of Purple, cycling from lavender to violet, from royal grape to a faint, holy mist.
I see the Worker Angels and the Travelers, moving through cities built of jewels no earth-mine ever held. Golden walkways lead to the Fortress, where beauty is never a bore. There is no void here, no desert, no silence of the dead. Animals roam the streets with an amiable trust, and the gardens bloom in the very second they are seen.
The 360 Vision
My sight has become uncommon. I see the distant mountain and the microscopic petal in a single pulse. In my 360-degree periphery, I watch giant, crystalline angels playing hide-and-seek with children in a maze of emerald. I see lions offering their manes to giggling toddlers, and tigers listening intently to the stories of the small.
Behind me—for I can see behind me now—the Light acts as a screen. I see horses and bulls grazing on wheat without chaff, their heads bowed in a gratitude that vibrates through the grass. I see everything at once, not consumed by the view, but enhanced by it.
The Return
The Previous World fades; it was the dream, and this is the reality. That world was the true tunnel, a pass-through of imperfection. This Absolute Perfection feels ancient, as if I were created here, as if this is not an arrival, but a Return. The purple skies are normal now. The Light is my breath. I remember the Dream World only through the protective filter of the Glow, until the Light chooses to let me forget. I move without time, without end, a part of the Light, forever against the Purple Skies.
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