Monday, September 3, 2012

Mag 133 — Beings of Light



Four Beings of Light descended into the lush Pearl River Valley from their mountain to experience a summer night. Before long the snows would come and they would be frozen in their high altitude cave, frozen in the exact position they were in when the annual icy winds came. This had been their species' snowga practice for eons: select one perfect night to try out poses in the moonlight.

These blue Beings of Light were sensitive about their appearance, comparing themselves with human inhabitants of the Pearl River Valley region and finding themselves lacking in contour and diversity. Each looked much like the other with their similar baldness, vacant eyes, bright red lips forever pursed as if dreaming of a kiss. They all had shapeless trunks and pillowy limbs and looked like giant babies wandering in dreamland dressed in soft pajamas with gloves and booties and moonbeams sewn in.

The Beings of Light liked to think of themselves as serene. Truth was they had very little personality and, aside from naturally shining from within, they were a bit dull. They bored one another. They were bored with themselves. None ever varied their snowga practice much at all, seeming always to strike poses with sensibilities such as: It is what it is! —or Dude! —or Whatever!

On this summer night in the moonlight, with the Pearl River flowing in expressive tributaries around their feet, before they froze in their snow cave — and with their vacant eyes never truly seeing because they expected what was to be seen would never change — would the Beings of Light miss a change most profound?

One of them had developed the print of a hand on the lower trunk area, between its shapeless pillowy legs. This signified the beginning of a life-changing, planet-saving gift if its evolution was only recognized. It needed lushness and light to develop in summer, snow and ice for preservation in winter. For complete balance among the Beings of Light and humans, river valleys and glaciers, the seasons and all beings who relied upon the seasons, the Beings of Light needed to truly see what was happening to their species. And they could not care about their species alone because if they did not share this gift with other species nothing would matter at all. And they did not have much time.



Written for The Mag: Mag 133 that inspired with the above photo prompt
(Summer Night, 1913, by Albert Bloch).

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18 comments:

Dave King said...

Very impressive. The opening sentences of the final paragraph, a true inspiration.

Brian Miller said...

ha...interesting...i have to wonder at what people from other worlds might think of us...

Helen said...

As always, Lydia ... lovely writing.

Berowne said...

A really remarkable take on the prompt...

Anonymous said...

There is so much in this that I love. The description of red lips pursed and giant babies wandering actually made me think of the new freshman sorority girls here on campus.

It's almost a sort of prophetic warning. Very fitting.

Wayne Pitchko said...

well daone and thanks for sharing your words

Rob-bear said...

Makes me sad, reading it.

Lydia said...

Dave King~ Many thanks for the kind comments.

Brian~ Who knows? Maybe in your lifetime you will find out!

Helen~ I appreciate that!

Berowne~ Honored to have a visit from you!

Amber Lee~ That's so funny the freshman sorority girls remind you of the quote. I never joined one of those things, but had friends who did. I just never saw the point!

Wayne~ Thanks so much.

Rob-bear~ Me too.

Silent Otto said...

Smething very Promethean about this ! , very apt withthe arctic ice sheet shrinking to record levels. Is it too late ? . We are the eagle that chews his liver for punishment, cor daring to bring us the fire of technology and reason. Our excessive reason and logic is the "Alien" , that Ripley must defeat . Ripley the maternal soothing dark age that beckons us to aurvive, thanks , Linda

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Silent Otto said...
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Silent Otto said...
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Lydia said...

Kutamun~ Your expressive comment published four times, so I elected to delete three of the duplicates. Perhaps aliens are fiddling around with this post!
Seriously, your comment showed me that you were completely in sync with me in my thoughts and intent. Thank you.

Freda said...

I'm with Rob-bear, there is something poignant and sad and very deep. You do write ethereal and beautiful pieces, Lydia. Thank y ou.

Tess Kincaid said...

The older I get the more my legs get that shapeless pillowy thing...giggle...

Lydia said...

Freda~ So nice to have a visit from you. Thank you for your comment. xo

Tess~ I seriously doubt that! In any case, just look at your beautiful face!

susan said...

A lovely, melancholic piece.

Lydia said...

susan~ Thank you. ♥

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