meditation

I saw a hall, it was hidden from sunlight but lit brightly, mysteriously.  It echoed with my footsteps, shaped stones.  There was art everywhere on the stone slabs making the walls and columns, and the vertical pieces making up the stair steps.  The art was delicate and ancient, yet bold and courageous.  The etches were deep and confident, they had feeling, like they weren't made with wrists and fingertips, but strong arms and forceful blows.  The air was chilly but I felt heat in admiring the work, the forges blazing and energy burning, with embers lifted by rising heat into the seemingly endless black ceiling.  There were deer, and bears, and big cats, and trees.  There were flowing rivers on the steps, a centerpiece of life spewing carved water, with fish and dragonflies frozen in stone.  On top of the pyramid of steps was a throne, carved from the same stone, everything looked a dull grey-blue granite. There was no marble, no gold, no silver, no paint, no precious stones, yet it was alive.  It was hard, harsh, I didn't sit on the throne, it felt like an insult to, but I kneeled to one side, leaning an arm over the throne's arm, and sighed.  I felt tired of everything I was seeing, even my feet hurt from the hard cold stone, it numbed and stole my body heat through my Chuck T's.  I wasn't seeing with my eyes, all I saw was grey-blue anyway, but I was feeling, and in feeling my body, I only felt bones, weary and stricken bones.  Then hunger, I wanted food, sooooo bad.  So, I got up and took a shower and bought shit at Safeway to make slammin' honey salmon and a bottle of pinot noir. I kicked my ass this workout.