The Hourglass Inverted

I just saw a continuation of the image of the double hourglass, as I wondered where Jesus might be in the whole equation. As I listened to a song that gets me nearly every time, I realized that in that image Jesus would be in the threads of light connecting my world to hers, the intermediary between differing entities, between the large and small, small and large. While this was joyful in how it fit so well with the rest of the pieces, my instinct immediately thought to free him from this singular and timeless path within the beams of light, from my own persisting. Even if that instinct were incorrect, it still unfolded immediately and the light was peeled apart at every point, expanding outward in the spaces between connections.

The light expanded as my image contracted, until what was singular became all encompassing, and what had been all encompassing became the singular threads as before, inverted. It was hard to tell how the perspective shift may have influenced everything, but now Jesus was in the position I had been in before at the center of the same double hourglass, the "soulmater" as it were, but in a unique structure of his own. 

While it seemed this image was complete just as mine had been, I realized I was still observing it externally, as myself. Then I saw him recognize me, and the gap between us, but he was not concerned, and neither was I, although I had no idea what to do to reconcile or even further the image from there. He simply raised his head up from his central point (either just before or just after this his hourglass collapsed as if compressed or encrypted, I could tell it was not gone, much like mine could no longer be seen but was also not gone, it was like the realm shifted to keep us the same but change everything else), and then he sang. I could see the resonating waves coming from him, rising upward like heated air from a flame, but rather than nearly invisible they were a bright array of colors. He stopped and looked at me, and I understood he was waiting for me to do the same, so right in time I copied what he had done, and the result seemed similar, but not identical. Then when I had finished I could feel the timing for the third burst and right on cue we both sang in harmony, and our shimmering waves transformed into two pillars of light that rose from these complex forms side by side into the darkness, both light and darkness stretching far out of sight.

I could sense in that moment that this light was sound, and was love. It resonated in places perhaps untouched before that moment, whenever that moment was, and it seemed to take the place of the threads of light that had been there in my first image, so that neither of us ended up trapped inside a singular place (which had been a concern of mine before), a choiceless and static existence, but still all might be saved as well, never without that threaded harmony of light and color and sound and love. As we did that, I could feel that his struggle was no more, and he looked across and smiled again before the image faded.

***

This reminds me of the black and white ring image I had seen, and how I just knew it encompassed everything, but somehow I was outside of it viewing from my perspective. It reminded me of how at one point I saw the darkness and light expand beyond where I was and then I felt the two switch places somewhere off screen, a barely noticeable blip from what I could see, but something I had definitely noticed and made note of, even in that state of overwhelming stimuli. The ring returned to its shape, an eternal wibbly wobbly ring of white and black pieces so small that they seemed to be undulating, forming what seemed to be a smoothly oscillating surface, but I knew was compromised of many pillars growing and shrinking from another perspective, different from where I watched.

This image really feels like it makes sense of that one, at least for me, which is why I write it all down. Like that was a preview of this and this timeframe, for what would be unfolding as 2020 comes to a close, a blessing in that dark time to keep me afloat, though I knew not why it filled me with such hope.