Consciousness is a progression

Nicole Page-Smith

Consciousness is a progression

Green bark enveloped her face and her hair grew green. Dank green roots and trees grew in the water. Red roots all tangled started sprouting and crawling out of the side of the river and travelled along the river weaving their way like long hair matted and muddy around other pathways and tracks into the forest. Universes and universities in a way had enmeshed manuscripts had them observed and flew them with the stars out to somewhere else. Planets were in the understanding and trees were made of oak shelves for the worth. Curling around pages thought of other ideas and Mother Nature had communicated Daphne's long journey. Green was the laurel and the leaf. Guided by the night, watery gods felt the music of piano wooded keys and notes tap felt and flow. You felt the timbre meet the Tiber and flowing notes with reeds of music flutes and woodwind blow. Blowing through the streets of Rome through temples and capitals, columns encrusted with leaves and walked with the cats. Rome, cats, meowing, walking, strolling on by.

Cats meowing, cats purring, Rome is the place for cats. In the forest cats wander. Cats, cats and trees, cats love climbing trees. In the forest I walked and have leaves drop on the ground, walking through big leaves ankle deep with leaves, I walk and become. Becoming is like the becoming the leaves of Daphne. A becoming. Leaves, leaves blow along the pathway. Leaves become stars and leaves become trees, they fall. Falling stars like falling rain fall, meteorites are a memory and memories of stars are Universes away in thinking. Thinking of stars is a tree sort of thing for trees to think. Contemplating the forest leaves fall. To the bottom of the sea branches forward and Daphne is as red as coral branches, a Christian indication of the heart of Christ. Christ was born to be Crucified and the blood of Christ is our memory. Daphne branches out, becomes leaf and green with evergreens forever green. Green, I find myself in a sacred forest and drive through with leaves scattering, sticking to the windscreen with memory of the watery river. Coral of sea and memories of the forests by the sea, going into forests, green in the knowing of the smell of trees. Forests turn to stone, petrified. Petrified forests turn to marble and we drift off with the stars, the moon and the night, listening to music, driving, feeling, being and become cathedral with the trees. Wooded cathedrals with stone figures of Christ, cathedrals in the knowing of trees, an ecstasy, may the Holy Spirit be with you blowing with the leaves of trees in the wind, entering another church.

Lined with the dove of the Holy Spirit, churches of marble are of the white close to God. Marble is stone. White marble is like white doves and you can imagine the inside of mountains were the sea, once. White was the depth of the sea and would have been underwater. The milky substance of white stone, marble was once the sea floor and why did the waters recede to provide all the lands, there were probably meteorite showers falling down like rain. When the polar caps freeze over again we will have only just come out of the ice age. Lost treasures and islands gone are probaby still underwater and modern cities. We will lose time and light, we are losing consciousness. Consciousness is a progression. 

There was a green forever green

Nicole Page-Smith

There was a green forever green

Chapter 5.

One life on the day of the Lord is the life to lead but when our life became one with life itself we were one. Time and space-time are similar. Three and one make the equation needed. Space-time is loosely associated with black holes and the void but also with gravitation. An understanding of gravitation would explain space-time but simply looking at a tree would give you the same information. We walked, there were trees and I entered my forest.

Books are that of God. We are one. One with God, trees. There are forests and forests sing with the birds. Birds fly like trees in the wind. Universes of trees have trees and you may wonder. Wondering and wandering amongst the trees has you walk on by in a tree sort of way. Trees walking, crawling around their roots with wind in mind has you blowing around with the leaves and sometimes you may find wildlife or a home to cats. Cats climbing trees and running all over the branches have you thinking of your library where cats also climb into the bookshelves. Roman cats, cats wanting you to think about themselves and books on Rome. You find you have fallen asleep and wake up to find your cat on your lap and you were reading Stoic philosophy. Ah, Rome and its memories.

Daphne had entered her forest. Down the stream there were several other nymphs but you could not ever see them during the day. At night when the stars were bright occasionally as though via some some kind of visionary experience of the trees nymphs would fly up to the stars and back to experience a god. Gods floated around as though entering their own realm a very sacred realm in the forest and stars answered back by shining and circling in a ring of stars Saints may see. The moon quite often shone down on the stream and the water god would bury his head and encourage the nymphs to sleep all day. Arriving at dusk back in their stream on the odd occasion God would send the nymphs back into the forest. Gods rampant for marriage of naked water nymphs pursued them but the water gods quite often could not agree. Daphne was one such nymph as described by the pursuit of Apollo in a metamorphoses. Tree she became and it was a becoming. Evergreens are here to tell the story.

The story is green with flowers smelling so fragrant. Nymphs of tumble and roll, roll and tumble, smelling by the stream by day, so fragrant. Passers by see nothing other than trees and the odd Daphne bush. They shuffle along as though you may not notice and a glimpse and trees are running, walking, strolling but you just imagined it. As if through some strange dream and caught up in the magic you realize it is all the literature you are reading. Reading and reading cats crawl onto your lap and purr gently away. Another, shuffle and trees appear to grow in your lounge suit through the window and you are charged with energy as if drinking Midori. Green in concept and forever green. The pans played along the river. There was a green forever green.

One day, one world

Nicole Page-Smith

One day, one world

Universes away, the trees walked.

Dinosaurs were frequent in the forest. Space-time was a general and well known theory by then and from another planet well observed, the forests were being known by god and former gods gone by.

Adam and Eve were well known in a scripture called the bible but it was from another planet  inhabited by another race of human beings. There is dual reflection in the Universe and this includes plant life. Plant life was well formed in outer space several years before Earth was created but then again. The Earth was created in a time unknown to human beings in some time in advance of any time space-time refers to or after the human race and the Earth had disappeared in the Universe for the third time of its expansion. After, the third time of its expansion, Earth will disappear into what is not known in a word to describe it but like the beginning of the void. Infinite time is a thing well known and discussed in philosophy but the atomic theory of being need not be discussed for we are, and we were one with the Lord on the day of the Lord, above.

The journey of the Holy Spirit includes the forest of imaginings from afar. Dinosaurs more than likely came to Earth after we did or we would not know of their existence. In the theory of space-time plants are well known. In the forest of imaginings I walked and walked and found walking a way to observe all the information God had tried to explain. Plants existed before human beings in general theory. Space-time is continuous and Christianity has explained the space between Earth and the Sun including the three planets. Walking through the forest does explain the same order in chaos theory or when the birds laid the seed. Birds flew that day through the forest.

Trees and their roots acknowledged people walking along the forest floor by dropping their leaves. Seasonally the forest does not change. Warmer temperatures have less water for varying varieties of trees and accommodating the change have walked their way closer to rivers and streams, curling their roots all the way there. Plant life sprouts elsewhere. Stars fall down from the sky and make the earth and then, plants appeared from the cosmos. God said one. One spirit is the way forward for God. One world is the world we live in but one day of the Lord is the day to look forward to. One day, one world.

Stars shone

Nicole Page-Smith

Stars shone

Angels with wings appeared. Surrounding me. We were in heaven that day on the day of angels. Transported. A haven for angels is the sky. Universes of stars tell us of their presence but planets away with the stars communicate with the forest. Angels wings are known to exist in museums nominating the gods and water nymphs of the forest. Occasionally, branches were known to appear to be growing out of statues and covered and surrounded sculptures like they were in a forest. Trees surrounded statues like angels and grew as if revealing the mythology of the heavens and the sky, astronomically. Daphne, Diana and the huntress maid have forests and trees in mind. Light flickering as you walked by had you remember forests and walking. Galloping through, horses and beasts of another kind were jeweled with encrusted reins and maidens ran by with flowers in their hair. A book sent by an angel was the idea in mind. Daphne's roots dirtied the floor.

Branches enveloped the staircase and down into the storey, below. Neglect is a very sad thing but happily overgrown, Daphne felt at home in the greenery and leafy surrounds of the forest allowed to grow through the imagination. Green thoughts are happy ones in the universe of the plant world.

Gods and god sit happily contemplating the Earth, up there in the sky and a little watery on the mind, occasionally even teary eyed with joy with heat showers in Autumn rain, contemplate all the workings of plant life. Communicating away as if through sunshine beaming down on their world they often beam down on ideas, once thought. A garden of ideas at best is very well established in a godly way and thought is a major pastime in the clouds. Ideas drift across.

A monster of an idea for monsters raged the clouds in the equinox of the skies and celestial patterns were observed on very well lit starry nights, beasts were seen and on one side of the world it was Autumn while on the other it was Spring. Monsters, monstrous are quite often an idea and there I found myself on the lower storey contemplating Bernini.

Monsters charged through.

Stars shone.

They said, so

Nicole Page-Smith

They said, so

Chapter 4.

Stones roll over on the stony ground and we walked through the forest that day. Leaves brushed our faces, as limbs were known to do on the tree and bark, way, when forests are not well used. Clearings are known in the forest. There are trees. Birds fly through. We walked that day for several hours along the brook. Flowing streams and running water had animals elephants, wild boar and all variety of fantastical beasts riding with other unknown creatures riding and perhaps I hit my head on a passing bough. Coming to out of a dream of a semi unconscious state, I realized that I was actually in a cathedral, looking at wooden sculptures of St. John and a bird flew through to donate a feather on my lap out of an image of Christ. Coral was the sea and the waves started to lap against the seat and down the churchyard isle, along the awnings and flowers flowed out of the churchyard, all down the street and boats were ready from the ship. With suitcase in hand I had arrived in the forest for the weekend. Tall trees had gathered by the doorway and the entrance was of stone. Stars began to gather in the sky and as night and day passed by, I graced the staircase as though being transported by angels. They sang.

In the forest, trees grew inside the house.

Tree houses were common in the forest but trees containing birds remained outside. Daphne stood in silence while people grew all around her. The house contained wooden furniture and trees lined the walls. Images of trees lined the wallpaper, trees were painted directly onto the walls and tree images were well known to Daphne. Silently as years passed by Daphne walked away, just simply got up and left one day. Red trees were not known in the forest Daphne frequented, so birds were often frightened away. Daphne had grown resplendently in her years in the forest, grown and grown but eventually as the forest grew all around her and died a little, Daphne felt a need for more sunlight. Sculptures and paintings lay in tribute to her but Daphne felt a need for a place less damp than the forest. The little, tree, house was sorely missed by Daphne but the sunlight allowed her to grow and more birds nested in Daphne's branches. Fragrant flowers were well known to Daphne. Other species of Daphne bush were well known for their flowers and Daphne felt contented. 

Daphne is remembered each Spring by the Southern equinox and stars shine down on us that month, the brightest where days are longer than the Sun, everywhere shares darkness and lightness and we are one with God.

Trees are like that, too. Brightness and darkness shines out of them. Shining stars are unto God. Now, when shining stars walk with you, you are blessed. But, when, God walks with you, you are the light of the Sun. Darkness forbades, we are night but not day. We walk in sunshine, we walk in two, we walk in three for the Lord, above. Moons, stars the Sun and the moon planet walk with Venus the moon. Now, when we are three the moon, walks, walking the moon, one is one and one with the moon. Two planets are with us between the Sun. One moon and the Sun are one with the moon. Stars shine down on the leaves of Daphne at night. Through the forest we walk and flying, now that's an angel sort of thing. Angels fly unto thee in the forest for God and they have wings to bear fruit. We are one with the Lord, above. Autumn leaves fall and we walk.

There were angels in the museums, they said, so.

Marble

Nicole Page-Smith

Marble

Birds fly in the forest. When you think of angels they fly like music in a concert, ascends. Angels are synonymous with birds in flight for they are spirit. Spirit flies, flies like the wind of emotions and flies. When we are the flight of genius we hit the soaring roof as though in a chorister of a choir. Trees ascend and grow and cathedrals had trees in mind built as though trees were housed. You may find it strange if when contemplating the Lord, a tree would grow out of the floor, grow up through the church seats and start singing with the birds. Birds sing for God and when you are in the forest trees become your cathedral, swaying gently in the breeze. Birds represent flight and we are reminded of the church and religion. Musical structure plays a part and in flight you are of the patterns of stars, annotating. (To sing is to angel your worth.) Instrumental was the sound of the Baroque. Notes rose in ascension like cathedrals and travelled up the beams like the top of treetops with the birds and angels singing, informing God of the incoming King. Courts and court music, an entertainment, entertains. Oh, the planets and their traverse. Choristers, choirs and choral music, sings and, the musical structure, composed. Many moons have passed since Baroque early music. In libraries of worth, there are angels and they are singing, Vivaldi in heavenly, manuscripts. Forests sing with the birds and feathers occasionally flutter down, gracing the forest floor. An indication of angels is the voice.

 

How strange to grow like trees. Leaves are our friend but oh, the birds, fly. Bees fly to the Bernini fountain in Rome and I fly off with them in Spirit. Flying as if on a beeline to the other side of the city, I am thinking of cathedrals, St. Peter's and Bernini's architecture. Flying as though spirits or bees I fly like a bird inside and around the square and fly off with the pigeons. Flying is my pastime and thinking of angels. God bless the angels by birth. I fly.

Flying is something trees ought not to do.

Running with trees overhead, we fly like the birds but are walking. Walking as though through a forest I find myself in St. Peter's. There is a communion and brides are running, running in white dresses, running. Not Catholic of the church, I wonder and walk on by. Wandering and wondering, I continue towards the river. Churches and churches and thinking of Hellenistic sculpture we continue to more book learned museums. Copies and Roman, Greek legends, you think of what floated up to shore. 

Clouds float on by and you are on the beach. Does it rain?

Raining, you find hidden treasure.

You walk along the beach and are transported. Big container ships are visible in the background. Walking along the beach and only finding the odd tree washed up you are reminded of Daphne.

Watery gods and their knowing, we are thinking of fountains and the Ganges, river god, Rome and its fountains. The odd cat walks on by. Sculpture is something Italy is famous for and the skill of artisans using stone. Marble.