Apollo's descent

I saw god last night.

Not in the visage of a man like the prophets have seen him, but god none the less.

The moment was unexpected, there was no way I could have planned it, or ask for it. I wouldn't have even known to ask, let alone how to.

I am still in awe of the experience, but as I try to describe it, the words seem somehow trivial, and insignificant. And yet I have to tell you, or if you were there, remind you of the beauty of it.

I find it important and beautiful, among other adjectives, that moments like this are born out of menial tasks that are rather unimportant and tame.

what I mean by this is, just moments before I saw him, I was in a Barnes and Noble trying to buy a new CD that they did not have in stock. Since the CD that I wanted was not in stock at the Jordan landing store, I had decided that I would check the sugarhouse store.

I paid for the other items I had decided on and I walked out the door, and it was then that I was stopped by the most breathtaking sight I have seen in this valley or any other place for that matter.

The day had been one of typical summer rain, rank and hard, blanketing the earth and paving of the valley with a cool freshness. Some would have said the rain was a torrent, but I only saw beauty in the constant powerful flow of liquid crystals crashing to the earth and shattering into a thousand little pieces of the puddle, or shirt or windshield that it hit. I thought I was content with the melancholy of the clouds and the repetition of the beating rain, but in an instant as I walked from the Barnes and Noble the beauty of the rain was nothing but shallow drops in a bucket, as if from a garden hose.

I cant say that I would describe the doors to Barnes and noble as the tunnel that leads to the other side of the veil but as I walked through them I cannot imagine that it would feel much different from walk into the unknown world of paradise.

As I looked out to the west in the direction of the sun, the rain that had been pounding as I walked in to the store, had changed it was no longer a pounding curtain falling on the world, but a thin shear muting any form that might lay behind. It magnified, and intensified, yet diffused and softened the sunlight all at the same time. Everything was aglow, as if the Barnes and Noble, or the circuit City across the way, were ancient mythical temples illuminated by some magical power, and I was a humble observer who had stumbled into the place just in time to see the sacred rite performed.

the mist that was somewhere between a rain and a kiss of joy was aglow with an amber color almost to the paleness of fresh cut pine before it has been stained by the master woodworker, and the wall of it seemed to rise into the sky until it was met by the dark clouds, who once seemed like sullen friends, but now in contrast to the sunlight seemed like an enemy to fight against the vision, wishing to throw down their rains and to thwart the joy of it. Yet they could not hold back the light that was bellowing out with increased splendor.

My breath was stopped, I was( and still am) caught up, so filled with the smell of newness, the power and livelihood of it that it hurt. It hurt that I was not prepared for it and it hurt that I knew the moment could not last.

It was in that instant that I knew what I saw was god, I was seeing a power that was soo much greater than myself, so full and complete that I knew that by seeing it I could never be quite the same.

I was obliged, much to my fortune, to make my way to my car and drive east. As I left Jordan landing, and looked out toward Mount Olympus, a tear graced my eye. The light that had been shining so majestically through that veil of clouds had stretched its hand across the valley, embracing the Mountain, as Apollo reaching out to his unrequited love Daphne as she fled into the mountains to hide.

I find it grand that those who came before me in this valley should name the mountain most prominent in my vision Mount Olympus. The name, it seems, was give in foreshadow of the moment. Somehow knowing that Divinity was destined for the place.

As the arms of light made their way across the valley all the trees stood at attention, as if by duty, reflected the glory that was shining from behind me, contrasted by the clouds, dark and menacing, looming above the mountains, still misting, but more darkly ahead than those behind me.

As if to remind me of promises made centuries past, out of nowhere a rainbow shot up into the sky, Arching, stretching, almost pulling itself apart in the middle, and then exhorting a grand exhale to plant itself firmly and gracefully at the other side of the span.

as I continued, My course changed direction, and I could see as I headed north on I-15 that the clouds had changed from a curtain to the west, into a more clear but still misty formation of heavy and high flying clouds. The sun, less blocked from the clouds, now was like a bronze discus, perfectly shaped and falling fast toward its resting place in the western sky. I felt then a sadness knowing that my exalted vision was almost gone, sacred, but fleeting, as all moments like this are.

Then as suddenly as It had been introduced to me, I rounded a bend, and the light sank out of sight, partly hidden by horizon, and finally loosing its battle to the dark and threatening clouds it had been fighting back, and as I realized that my moment of paradise was over, the rain came again seemingly stronger and harder and louder than before. But could it be any other way, it seems the turmoil always is more bitter when the respite we once enjoyed is over and yet there was peace in the rain and in the remembrance of my moment of rest from it.