Yes, it could all be just as simple as that, can it be believed?
If only humanity could just stop our destructive streaks
Change our nature somehow our genetic code of mistakes
Twigged and replaced by love?
Let this be somehow!
Treat it as a disease so all who cannot live in peace
be treated with loving kindness
as those ill and not at ease with their own souls and hearts.
Have our own angels there to heal their woe.
Is it wrong for me to think so?
Would it bring about a mindset turn around,
of our territorial boundaries, and World dominating greed?
Our multinational companies and the push for just money
All seem against our want for just peace.
Those in control
Need to be the first to adopt the principles of World Peace.
A day would not be enough we must be committed to years
To change ourselves from this destructive path.
“They” do not have human hearts or so it seems
To us average human beings who live and consume
Whatever “they” give to make our own bubble
As peaceful bliss missing what the harm it does to the third world.
To the others out there in other places and not on our street.
Are we then as responsible as they and the other?
Humanity are we, together, not divided.
We call for all banning of weaponry those devices
For the drones are just machines without a heart
We ask for our armies to lie down the guns
And not fire bombs of mass destruction.
Not fly our planes
Into zones belonging to another just because we can.
And believe somehow this is the only way to guarantee
Future peace. And a world govenered by one world control
Is this why we must enjure this sorrow of war?
Again the celery would be a better way
than us deluding ourselves that peace is possible
And somehow happen magically. Like our creator
Appearing in the Sky to fix our problems.
Oh if only it was as simple as that.
If you must declare some strange war
Get those celery sticks out and wave them around
Instead ! At least all those children would not be dead
And now just Angels with wings, millions now crowd the heavens
All dead because of war.
If there by a heaven as hell now reigns on Earth.
We pray for it to be heaven on Earth instead.
Crying about the insanity of Humanity
as we continue genocide of ourselves once again
not thinking of the consequence
of our actions , our stupidity.
A black hole our destruction would make.
Instead we see our leaders following old
codes that states we humans are too many
and most must die, crazy right?
Send us backwards into the night
of lack and stravation of knowledge
so we never reach the stars.
our world a prison once again
and only the meek shall inherite the earth,
not the rich not the powerful , only those souls who are meek
the submissive, quiet who don’t speak out.
Our black hole will take this Universe.
with it and we will go backwards.
Evil makes the wrong energy fields
messes up the waves of heavenly songs
The beat of love is so important my fellow humans
and not just to us but to others out there as well
for we are not alone and never where.
So like Bill said let it be one day that all can share
without barriers of religious divide but united for
a day so that peace can really reign on Earth.
He says make that day be 31st December
and on that day we promise each other to be kind
and loving and not allow our differences to divide
but allow a sharing and a caring to be spread
around the world forever amen.
I say one day is not enough
we need to change our understanding of war
and say never ever anymore wars.
“Imagine all the people, living life in peace” With everything that is going on in the world today it’s pretty hard to imagine peace like that. The Bible also speaks of a time of world peace in Isaiah 2:4
“[God] will judge between the nations and will settle disputes for many peoples. ?They will beat their swords into plowshares and their spears into pruning hooks. ?Nation will not take up sword against nation, nor will they train for war anymore.”http://powertochange.com/experience/world/the-fight-for-peace/
I am a poet/ artist , but i have not put myself into anything except wattpad and my own website. I believe I should try and reach out to more people and humanity in general. So here I am. And I wish to share with you my poem for today. It was to feature in my first attempts of a podcast. But I still not sure how to achieve the technical stuff of making it. So maybe ytube may do.
What follows is my current work in progress. Started in May of 2025 a collection of Poetry, Prose and Images inspired by nature and currently is developing on the wattpad website writing community.
My intentions now are to format my written posts more seriously and take the best from my words and put them into books. Firstly, as pdf, and eventually see about putting them to print, hardcopies. I am also transcribing by hand.
Through the passage of time, I have found solace in the written word and strokes of paint. They became my language, my refuge, and my way of telling stories that twist through the roots of imagination and the branches of memory. These stories, birthed from whispers of inspiration, often take shape as vivid tales of guardianship and interconnectedness. They reflect the dance between humanity and nature, a dance that ebbs and flows, sometimes harmonious, sometimes fraught.
It is within this realm of artistic exploration that I journey into the essence of creation. My art carries the weight of the world’s cycles—the rise of saplings, the falling of leaves, and the eternal rebirth of life. This pursuit is not just a practice; it is a regeneration of my soul, an acknowledgment of the bond I share with the earth, with the unseen magic that pulses through its veins. (A.I. Generated text.) * If I use this tool, I will let you know dear reader by change in text.
My Poetry reflects my journey.
I hope dear readers that you will enjoy this finished work and the peace and love and freedom that this world is in current need to find as we travel through this time of Chaos.
Rose Raikos 14.6.2025
Acknowledgements
I would like to acknowledge my family members who have supported me in my life as an artist and poet.
Also, my teachers and friends both online and in my everyday places. Both from the past and in the present. I also would love to extend my warmest welcome to all my future supporters.
Contents
1 My Birth p. 4
2 Older Understanding p. 7
3 Companions and Nymphs p. 9
4 Earth Mother p. 11
5 Natural Help p.14
6 Personal Reconnection to Nature p. 16
7 Natures Palate p. 18
8 Woman of Rock
9 Come Listen to Me p. 20
10 Come meet Me p.28
A watercolour on paper 300 grams. One that grew from my imagination and allowed to form without a lined drawing. A practice piece I did to help me relearn the art of painting.
The seed was sown and a poem followed.
MY BIRTH
Earth Guardian, nymph, mother nature, Earth Mother and the Green man all are me.
All these things as humans have imagined me over their stay in my world.
I am the guardian of the forests, born within a bubble bush with my companion sapling.
My tree is special to me. You see, it is my home and my form when I sleep.
What is a bubble bush? You ask, mm… I see, ignorant one you know not of the magic of me.
Born from the special bubble of water and golden sap which forms only at times of greatest need.
When my forests need me, and my natural world is under the greatest of dangers.
HUMANS.
Why, come now? (You ask.)
Again, you are blind.
Can you not see that humans are forgetting about all life on this planet.
Too tied up in their wars and destroying my beautiful forests with their greed.
Forgetting that they have pushed me to the brink of nothing in many places of this amazing planet.
Mined my earth, cut into my form, and ravished me. But I allowed them… until now.
Maybe. Mm. I may have to stop them… mm. Mm.
A Blue Jewel of the universe. It is like that because of me.
The creator had a hand in things, but it was me who allowed life to develop. Science, and scientists know all about it.
Mm, how clever of them. So clever that now they shake in their skin in fear of my re -birth.
As a dragon I roam in the deepest forests, some know me in this form… some of you will get to talk to me.
I am not evil; I am what makes humans mortal. I am life and the full cycle from your birth to death.
I give you the moments of your tiny existence. I hope you all learn your lessons well.
Especially of co-existence… mm; yes, they believe they rule my world. Humans … mm.
Natures Force image souced from Microsoft Bing pictures I will replace it with my own painting soon. We see nature as distructive , but we need the rain and sunshine to live. If we think about nature as a spirit, then our planet is our mother, and the sun our father, and the moon our sister, and we humans are all related we are siblings of the web of life.
Poem Two
Older Understanding
image souced from free images www. will be replace with my own art work.
Go back, my listener, go back in time.
Your span of existence Human is just
a few minutes in my long timeline.
Allow yourself to travel way back is a must.
I belong to the universal being
I am life, you see, natural and true
I just am, you see, and I just do.
Allowing the living their moments of being.
All life is borrowed from me don’t you see?
The life and living are abundant in this universe.
All amazing, all variant, some all-seeing.
Some seen as evil, but they are not a curse.
They exist to learn a better understanding.
Like you human of course, yes mm of course.
To transcend to a life form more diverse.
The progression of their learning
Is my domain, and when they have seen,
And breathed their last moments of being,
I release them, transcending into the golden mean.
My handprint in nature is my frame,
the scaffold on which lifeforms climb.
The ladder of learning how to proclaim,
Their individual moments of time.
Their blueprint of their best intentions of life.
Poem Three
Companions and Nymphs
water colour painting on 300gms rough own art work.
Birds serenade me daily,
from the first moments of my re-birth.
As I formed within the bubble bush.
Flowers grow where I am,
Bright and beautiful.
Their sweet scent filling my world.
Sweet and innocent my sister
sits amongst them,
dripping in their blooms.
Flowers woven into her hair
while she is in her human form.
But usually, yes, she hides
afraid of begin destroyed
by human hands.
She hides her form as a butterfly,
Sometimes she becomes a bee,
to fertilize the flower so more seeds
develop and regrow into blooms of joy.
The ancient ones named us.
Wrote about our love affairs,
With their gods, and humans too.
All fantasies, though maybe some were true.
As we did have many, you see.
Human you must know… we love… love.
Eros and the force of attraction.
Are all part of the spiritual realm
Were nature rules.
Your wise ones know
You now must reconnect
To my domain to be re-born
Into my web, and the golden mean.
Go smell the roses, those wise ones say.
Go today, walk and remember me.
Poem Four
Clay frommy back yard , and mixed with white walkers hand building clay so I could fire it more easily. this natural clay was black , but it is common terracotta. they the British used it to build their goverment building , The Convict Brick.
EARTH MOTHER
Made from my mud and fired to hard clay form.
My Children of Earth you became as your norm.
But only in a small part of my form, I saw mm yes.
I saw you celebrate my life-giving force
As the religion of choice, but of course.
You had to grow and be free to roam and learn.
But then my child, yes human mm, you saw me differently.
Again just a few of you saw me thus..
Other saw me as NYMPHS
Watercolour on 300gms rough own art work.
NYMPHS
I become for you the Nymphs of the trees,
Neriods of the seas,
Naiads of the still water pools
Springs and bubbling brooks.
See human they are all me.
My spirit divine, was how some saw me.
This is where a more ancient form of you
found me in my natural world, as you grew.
But others saw me differently, you see
All varied forms of my spirit and force all free.
For my children to know me, sit a while and see.
Other humans were content with my earth and dust
They painted their bodies with my symbolic blood. *
They used their spiritual guides, shamans to identify
Animal spirits for their tribes to be guided by.
Here I tell you, it is all the same, no shame in their difference
You need to allow them to continue their cultural dance
They too belong to me, what they do is identifying me.
I rejoice in their symbolic trance, and stories you see.
*This is the scared heart of the indigenous peoples the traditional owners and guardians of Uluru. The Yankunytjatjara, Phjahtijeuia, and Anangu People.
Section 5.
Natural Help.
This part of this poetry collect will give you an example of how nature helps us. A prose style free verse follows.
1. Only yesterday, my son was at work on the railway.
It was close to home, our local railway station.
He said that he saw a chicken wandering close to the lines.
Silly chicken may not realize that trains just can’t stop for chickens to cross the tracks.
Maybe it was trying to get back to familiar territory?
Who knows what chickens do or think?
A commotion started as magpies of the area
began to swoop down towards their feathered relative.
My son was about to take a photo; then he stopped to see what the magpies were doing.
He understood that the magpies were herding the chicken towards him and away from the railway track.
They headed the stray chicken towards him into a safe area, close enough and
away from the lines so he could pick it up.
An old lady was the only witness to this rescue situation.
Going over to her he asked, “Do you know where this chicken belongs?”
She waved her hand towards the back yard of the closest house which backed onto the railway track, saying “Over there.”
The rescuer cuddled the chicken close making chicken small talk,” bock, bock ” and getting and answer of “bock, bock” back.
Without further problems the rescuer promptly returned the chicken safely back home.
The ancient Greek gods where archetypes of different human natures to help the person identify with their own personalities. To help them become better and more resilient under the pressures of life in general. Stress and emotional distress can destroy our potential and finding a pathway to follow can sometimes be difficult.
Our organized religions have lost some of its own understandings with the destruction of the evil of the priests within the established educational institutions and even within the holy structure of the church. Their actions made deep fissures which only time and many prayers can only heal. I still believe in love and forgiveness of Christian belief but my healing needed to come from a more ancient understanding of humanity one which I could stream and blame for the sins of many and also my own onto our creators. The sinner which blames the maker for designing our fall is not a good creator as but faulted in thinking so the human must struggle to overcome sin.
What is sin? Human failure , cruelty, lack of morals and values of any type , and yes we are all guilty of all vices of human wrongness. But to find our fault as a personal failure and ask forgiveness of these faults is a Christain thinking and upbring. Our personal downfall linked to our gentic biblical words. But to free ourselves from this sin Christ was invented, and our Christain Faith took the sin so we as failures where forgiven. Our fault erased if only by our belief.
So do we go to Church for our forgiveness each Sunday to once again do sin on Manday?
I se this as hypocrisy. We can only blame ourselves for this behaviour not our maker. Our creator gave us forgiveness, in our Christain understanding. So why are we not better humans? Or have we become more toterant of wrongdoing and evil acts? Do you forgive those who are doing wrong more now than we did. Do we fall with them, as the good is overtaken by those that only believe in making more money. Has the money God won?
That is what it seems we are doing. Forever in the cycle of wrong doing. Do sin, be sorry for it, and get forgiveness. But do we improve? Do we try to become better people?
NO. We don’t learn by our mistakes but return to our same pattern of behaviour. It is the comfortable sugar hit.
But is it real? The Ancient Greeks saw their creators in the model of our human natures. Not the perfect being and ruler of the universe. Yes Zeus ruled the skies but he shared his rule with his siblings and children. He wasn’t the ruler of all. This I see as the difference.
In some ways our God did see the nature of humanity as being a failure, and taking the forbidden fruit from the Garden of Eden. But I see this act as our escape from ingorance of childhood and our coming of age as intellegent beings. We were given freewill. We were given the tools to create and make our lives comfortable. We had to make choices between the so called good and evil. Sometimes the evil won and the good had to take second place. War and pain changed us. We killed each other for our own benifit and gain. Regardless of the evil we committed we progressed to become the top species in the natural order of living things on this Planet.
Now we find ourselves in natural enviromental descruction. Our Planet is now hurting from our progress. But is it?
Are we not just part of the whole web of life? Nature is not our enermy. We must find ways to work with the natural order of life in this cycle of change.
The Greeks saw nature spirits in all living things. The forest trees had a spirit dwelling within them. They respected nature more than we now do. Our links to the natural world was severed as we moved into city life and automative industrailization. We were completely cut off from the wild world. Our parks were sculputure into gardens and our food was grown with fertilizer and insect sprays. So we had to over produce to make the money god happier. Over production, over population and over consumerism, is now our downfall.
So how do we turn the tables on our downfall from this chaos we have made?
What is the answer to our mess?
Yes our civilization , that of the Western World is in decline. All the signs are blaring at us in all our activities. We are going down. China is rising, and we can’t stop them the dragon has woken up and becoming stronger in the sun of consumerism and trade. The re invention of the silk road via land air and sea is all part of their world doniamtion. They rise and we fall. Africa is also forming stronger ties with the Eastern Dragon. Good luck to them, and the Brixs alliance of new money making ventures.
The old world civilizations are reforming stronger and will survive this chaos solong as we don’t totally destroy ourselves in our downfall. I pray for the children of the world they will inherite our mess, and will need to clean up our self destrucive mode.
Our answer to all this is simple. We stop wanting more things, we reduce our demand of many things and change our behavour to accepting less.
Not easy. Not easy at all. So will nature force us to our knees so we are forced to accept less?
Nature is not the evil people we are the ones who fight against the natural law of the cycle of life. Yes we will be gone one day, Our life is only short and we will nolonger be here. And guess what? We can’t take our so called wealth with us.
The video is my own understandings using my own art to help me explain Creative Thought and Practice, it takes a while to load so be patient it will come eventually.
continuation from previous post of the Story Diorama
Part Two: The Journey Begins
The young couple rose early and emerged from the bunker to a different world. Harold’s parent’s house was completely gone. A few older items of a bygone age lay around the rubble of stones and lichen. They saw some wooden chairs and a sideboard which had belonged to the dining room. The furniture was lost in the landscape. Snow had not fallen over night, usually snow did fall because of the enforced long winter conditions. The work of his parents of the newly restored atmospheric shield, all new after Earth’s atmosphere was destroyed. A world in hibernation.
“So quick.” Harold said as he looked around.
“Yes, their house is gone, let us look to see if anything good has remained.”
Without saying anything else Harold moved over the area. He pictured the lay out of the house as he stepped over the stones. From the corner of his eye, he saw something flutter. A book?
“Alana, I think I found something?” Without waiting for her to come to him, Harold stepped over the rocks towards the fluttering sound of pages being blown by the wind. As he came closer, the fluttering was less. When he reached the place which he thought was something there was nothing.
“It’s gone with everything else.”
The feelings of loss swept over him again. A tear rolled down his cheek. He brushed it away. Harold reached into his breast pocket and withdrew the old, yellowed photograph of his long distant relative. The image stared back out to him. “I’ll find you in your time.”
He returned the photo into the pocket. “I must think of the future, my wife, my work, not my parents.” Gaining strength against further sad emotions, he clenched his fists and made his way back to the cellar door.
Alana emerged from the entrance with his backpack. He took it from her and asked, “Is this everything?”
“I’ve still to collect my own electronic equipment from work. My bag is over there.” She pointed to the electric car supplied by the government to help with the expedition. The vehicle was built for all terrains and worked on solar energy.
“Good. So, we are ready to go.”
Alana smiled, “we now take the first steps on this long journey north. May the mother be with us.”
Harold kissed his wife and replied with the established religious answer, “As Her Son is always here.” With his free hand he placed it over his heart, and added, “some things always are the same for us Alana. Our faith cannot be lost. Our hope for a future is our strength as it was for our parents. It is our time to try our best to keep human life on this Earth, as they did and our grandparents. ”
Alana nodded her head, then quickly made her way to the awaiting vehicle. Harold put his backpack into the back of the open rover. He then sat with his wife in the driver’s seat. He touched the icon on the dashboard and the vehicle began to move without a sound. The types gripped the rough surface as Harold steered the vehicle towards what once was the road but now was just a marked pathway heading towards the nearest government centre.
Together they drove to the underground transport station nine miles,(15 kilometres) to the north of the farmland. Harold’s ancient family had lived for generations growing trees and grape vines. Christmas Firs were now all gone because of climate change and the grapes had disappeared before the trees. The long cold now left the land in hibernation, waiting for the right time to readjust the damage of the lack of ozone and the magnetic shield of the planet. Work teams were gathering soil from underground in readiness for regrowing the fauna and plant life of this once Edan.
The vehicle was slow and the drive in took them nearly an hour. Their first stop was at an old metal dome which was now the town’s central office.
“Wait here, I wouldn’t be long.” Alana got out of the rover and made her way into the dome through the thick steel door.
Harold sat looking around the small township. Some newer dwellings were still standing. The occupants living their lives in fear of fading. “But life is life”.
Most dwellings were made from what was salvaged from the domes which had been built to withstand climate catastrophes before the Hundred -Year- War. They hope the old material would keep them safe from fading. Harold looked at the structures made from metal plates from the domes themselves and stone from deep inside the earth. His parent’s home was made from stone, and tiles, no metal could be found in the farmlands. Here in the town’s centre the metal plates curved over to make the rooves and the stone cut to shapes that were fitted together made the walls. Old materials recycled and used over again. Once one household was vacant with the signs of fading others would come silently with whispered prayers for those gone. The people, their neighbours would come and pick up what was left. A group of people were gathering at what looked like the last house left standing towards the east of what was the original town centre.
I should go to them, let them know about Alice and Peter Harrick-Hiroko.
He climbed out of the driver’s seat of the small rover and walked towards the crowd.
“Hi there, my name is Harold. Who faded last night?
A woman turned around to face Harold and spoke. “Beverly Sheryl, she lasted more than two years after her husband faded. She was our local schoolteacher.”
“Yes, she was and now we have to find a new one.” The gentleman picked up a book. Then turned back to talk to Harold, “sorry rude of me. I am head of the Parents committee, Russell Brown-Hampton , we found some of her books and papers. She was our librarian too. Sorely missed, our Bev. Are you here because you are family?”
“No, I had no connection to her, but my mother faded last night. We lived on the farm some 15 kilometres south of here. I didn’t have time to clean up. I was hoping someone could go by and collect what was left. I must go north, the expedition to search for the Data Storage units.”
Russell looked over at the rover and saw all their luggage piled up. “I see you’ll be gone for a while.”
“Yes, so could you please let people know. Our farm is called Meadowdale and well- marked on most maps.”
“Yes, I will, for Alice’s sake. I remember her from our dome days.
Harold’s attention was pulled away from the group as he heard Alana come back out of the dome. She held a camera drone and an old laptop. He left the group to finish their ritual of collection and whispered prayers. When he climbed back in Alana said, “That is all I can take for now, I’ll have to have the rest sent up to me once we arrive at the boarder.” She placed the equipment with the other luggage.
When she finished securing the load and was back in her seat next to him, Harold turned the vehicle around and headed to a dome towards the west of the main area.
“Someone else faded last night, did you see the gathering?”
“No, I was too busy with my stuff.”
“I talked to one of them, he told me it was “Beverly Sheryl, the local schoolteacher. Her husband faded over two years ago. So maybe there is some hope for me, and I can last for a while longer.”
“Harold, I am here that is why, silly.” She gave him a gentle punch in his upper arm.
“Ah, I hope your love will hold me for ever, anyway, I told them about Alice.”
“Good, maybe they will find those old chairs and that sideboard. A family may need those things.”
“ I suppose the news will spread soon enough” said Harold as he turned back to a northerly direction. He was heading to what once was a scenic railway route that took people through the beautiful landscape of forests, mountains, and lakes. Now there was no vegetation just rocks, and a few snow drifts.
“ I am sure your neighbours will be there today, to whisper their goodbyes and take what is still there.”
Before he answered Harold pulled up at another large dome. A crowd of people had gathered outside the entrance. Some were busy unpacking luggage. A woman in her late thirties came over to where Harold had parked.
Raelene Harrington opened the door of the rover, and said, “good, we were wandering if you were coming Harold because of your mother. I am glad and you have brought your wife, Alana. That makes us all here.”
“I promised my mother I would do what I can to find out why people are fading, so here I am. Is the underground train system working?” Harold asked as he started to unload the luggage with his wife.
Raelene picked up Alana’s backpack and said, “ we have a clear running section to the boarder, but the Army said the tunnels under the lakes are not accessible. From the boarder we must travel by foot to Toronto Canada.”
Harold felt thin lines of frown, followed by his eyes twitching, “that is bad news how many miles?”
Raelene stopped and looked at Harold. “ Stop thinking about length and just remember north is colder than here. And its kilometers now not miles. Please remember our standard measurement worldwide, rule.” She shucked in her checks and continued, “ if any Lakes are still there, they will be frozen. We have come with the best equipment to help us travel over land to Toronto area. Our navigation equipment is the best the world can now offer . So regardless of length we will get there, in time.” She turned her back on Harold and he watched her march into the dome. They followed.
Speculative Science Fiction Adult Word Count 120,000 told in six parts.
Diorama is about future beings, who use a book saved in data storage units of Wattpad, and Microsoft cloud. The data becomes the foundations of a virtual bridge, a tool to contact those genetically linked to them in our time. Emma Rose, the Author of Human Survival: The Future Needs Us and Yana, born 2177 ADC are genetically linked.
Yana visits the writer in her own time via dreams which the writer saves to the cloud. The future team involved with Archival Data retrieval contact Emma-Rose to lay the foundations of a virtual time travel bridge. For the Diorama to work and be used by the future beings the story in its multiple drafts posted to the cloud, becomes the tool to further infiltrate and change our society and us. The future beings use this virtual world, the Diorama as a portal. They push us into the future for our survival and theirs, so our life form is free to become true Cosmic Beings of the Universe and advance further into space.
Blur: The story that follows is inspired by what Kaku, the physicist involved with the Large Hadron Collider and the experiences of dark matter said, about time travel: “Don’t turn someone away who knocks at your door one day and claims to be your future great-great-great- grandchild. They may be right.”
I add here, and they may need your help to survive.
Chapter One of the First Part of the Speculative Science Fiction DIORAMA
Chapter 1 Future is the Beginning
Part One Chapter 1 Part One : HAROLD
Prologue:
Prologue:
Our world, planet Earth, is buried in a thick blanket of snow and ice. A healing hibernation for the whole planet after our ancestors’ failure to address climate change and because of a war that raged for one hundred years. In the summer months some areas show the destruction to the surface. The depletion of topsoil, the lack of vegetation and the silence of the complete disappearance of all life. But humans did survive, for years deep underground after the end of the hundred- year -war. They emerged in isolated groups over the last decade. Coming back to the surface and now are struggling to reconnect to each other.
The year is 2196, after the end of the ancient world a time- line called: after common dating, or ACD. People are fighting for their survival. I’m now 28 and called Harold Hadrick -Jones. I’m married and belong to the established religious community of “The Earth Mother”, shown by my hyphenated name. My wife Alana and me are left to continue our parents’ work and hopefully build a virtual bridge which allows us to travel back to the cross over timeline of 2012 through their surviving data storage units. The bridge will allow us to transverse time and change what we need to help us survive.
Harold held the pen with his thin long fingers, rotating it between his thumb and fingers as he paused in his note writing. His face shows signs of stress and the thinness of long hunger. As he paused, he looked at the pen remembering his teenage studies on old writing implements. The pen , this one was magical, as it would reconstitute the stored ink continually as it was being used. “Science, and innovation are our friends both together will help us survive.”
He returned to his writing : Humans are fading away as an AI takes over our demise of failed biological beings. Aliens have judged us as not being able to progress to the next level of civilized life form. Or is this just one side of the story? A lie so someone or something can take our place in this world. With every person taken by this strange process I am more of the understanding that there is more to humanities demise of our spirits uploaded to a computer program , much more. Surely we can’t be so dangerous to the cosmos and judged defective to only exist in a prison?
Harold stopped again and was about to remove the last paragraph by turning the pen upside down and running a tip over the words written when he heard the footsteps of his wife approaching the study.
Part One
A young man is sitting in the fading light of day reading in an old chair ancient from much wear, he sighs and rubs his eyes as the light dimes. Harold Harrick-Jones placed the aged notebook into its case. He pushed the icon to activate the vacuum seal to lock the ancient treasure away from all destructive elements.
The sunlight , a faint glow on the horizon showed the coming of the long winter caught the young man’s gaze for a moment. Harold looked out the window to see the sun slip away and his world was again in darkness of a long night. And tomorrow would only have a few hours of sunlight. As the internal lights automatically triggered the young man viewed his internal space, as he was to leave his family home in the morning. The light was pushing all shadows aside revealing the sparsely furnished study. A desk and old-fashioned bookcase next to the internal doorway always brought memories of family stories, the generations of Hadrick Clan and of his mother’s family both the Japanese Hiroko and the North American Chewey. As Harold placed the closed case into the bookshelf a woeful sound filled his being.
“Too soon. No!”
Fear jarred his mind, “No, no, not Ma.” Harold made his way to his mother who was lying on top of the bed. He held her hand. It was transparent as glass. Emotions overflowed as his voice cracked, “Ma, please don’t fade. We need you.”
“Sorry, I can’t stop… so many…find out why.” Alice rasped between gasping breath.
“I promise.” Harold moved closer to his ma’s face to hear what else Alice was trying to say.
Alice, lay struggling as she took a final visible breath in, “the transfer worked for Peter. But mine?”
“I can’t check, the new connections aren’t working. Hold on until the Quantum is back.” Harold’s voice trailed off to a whisper as his mother’s body disappeared. Alice’s legs rippled with light, flashing upwards to envelope Alice’s whole trunk. Then her weightless hand slipped from Harold’s palm and onto the bed with her fingers dissolving on contact with the sheet.
“Oh no!” Harold watched as her eyes faded with a final look of resignation and defeat. The stare sheered into his heart and memory. “Ma!”
All thoughts turned into an internal scream. Harold’s hands began to shake uncontrollable, and a lump appeared in his throat. The young man’s muscles tightened preventing him from speaking, from breathing.
A shadow fell over the lamplight of the bedroom. A slim small figure of a young woman emerged from the gloom; Alana reached out to gently touch Harold’s hand which was resting on the now empty bed. “Sorry love, both of your parents within a few days.”
“What if I’m next? What if my mother is lost, doesn’t transfer?” Harold voice broke as he struggled to speak, he took a deep breath and continued to deliver his concerns. “When my father faded, he was in control of the new Quantum System that allowed him to pass over without delay. Ma said Peter was saved, one of the last things she said.” Harold turned to look at his wife , and continued , “dad’s transfer wasn’t the uncontrolled fade as hers. Oh no! Alana I’m next.”
Alana pulled Harold’s chin around to look him into his hazel green flecked, eyes. “Don’t think of these things. Remember, we are connected by marriage, shown by our hyphened joined names. The same as your parents, they are together. Your dad can save Alice from inside the system.”
“Yes — I must believe– that our psychic link strengthens us, and my parents. I know my dad managed to get into the new Quantum and not in a holding space of the Antiquated Epsilon. He will find her.”
“That’s right,” Alana kissed the few tears escaping down Harold’s face. Both saw the bed was now completely empty.
“I promised Ma. You realize, I must discover the answers to this fading.” As he spoke the sheets began to disappear. There was no trace of his ma’s body not even the indentations or creases of her ever lying on the bed. He turned his attention to Alana felling her hand on his shoulder. The warm touch strengthen him. Alana’s brown eyes which reflected her pure love for him.
“Both of us will, Harold. We know the answers are in the past. Our trek north is the beginning of finding the answers as to why this is happening , and hopefully the way to stop it so we as humans can survive.”
“Yes, we must connect to our ancestors to get help. Virtual time travel, the bridge is the only answer.” The bed now had almost disappeared only the frame and wooden legs stood there empty. “Look, how quick everything is disappearing.”
Alana nodded, and said, “tomorrow we leave here in search of the ancient Cloud Storage units . Together, so it doesn’t matter if the house dissolves.”
Harold hugged his wife of two weeks and allowed his emotions to break completely. He sobbed with the raw anguish of losing both parents in such a short time. Childhood memories flashed by quickly in a haze.
Finally, Alana’s lavender scent began to ground him in the present moment. The familiar lavender oil defused into his fogged mind. Harold moved his head up from Alana’s shoulder. And pushed her hair from her eyes. He saw the silent traces of shared grief ; she had also lost both parents in much the same situation. “I believe we will meet them again , all of them that have now gone so suddenly with out any warning.”
“Shh, shh, let’s have a drink.” Alana pulled away and took Harold’s hands in hers. She added, “ I ‘ve packed everything, for our trip.”
“Thanks. I sure hope the subway system is working as the government reported, it means less walking through the snow and wilderness.”
Alana gently guided Harold to the doorway of the room. As they walked out together, he noticed the yellow paint fading on the wall by the door. He stopped and took an old photograph from its position which left its frame marked around the hook. One of his mother’s grandfather showing a youthful Japanese man dressed in ancient traditional Montsuki. “This picture will survive, has too as it is oldest thing in this building, except our dining room chairs and the basement.”
Harold looked over the area, sighing, “This house is disappearing quickly. We must bunk down in the cellar like I did when young.” He pushed the photo into his inner jacket pocket as Alana gently pulled him from the fading room.
“I realized her fading would affect the house, but Harold it’s not the end.”
He smiled, “You’re right, I count my blessings every day, especially having you close to me.”
The cellar door was made of thick metal and needed at least two people to pull open. Luckily, the electrical system was still functioning so opening it was easy. The basement was deep underground and self- contained with its own ventilation and heating operation. It was what saved Harold’s father’s family and his mother’s during the worse times of war and following environmental destruction. The families had been isolated from other groups for many years which helped them to concentrate on the scientific developments to heal the dying world.
The couple made their way down into the basement via the stairs that circled downwards into the earth. As the young couple reach another door they stopped. Harold punched in the code to release the lock and the entrance swung open to reveal a vast underground room. A warm welcoming light was sent out from bulbs ringed around the walls of the spacious chamber a greeting which for him was a treasured childhood memory. I love this place. He smelt the old earthy aroma that surrounded them as they progressed into the bunker. On one wall was another exit which Harold went towards, “I’ll get the wine. And maybe something to go with it, maybe some cheese.” He made his way to the large cellar which was three times the size of the lounge kitchen area.
While Alana found some drinking vessels, the young man cut the cheese into bit potions. Harold then opened the dusty bottle when Alana returned with two silver goblets. She put them down on a wooden table set before the couch which faced and artificial fireplace that sent out a control warmth and soft glow of light. Once she was done, Alana turned to her husband saying, “I’m puzzled; I mean not why things fade but what?” She watched Harold sip to make sure it was drinkable.
The sip of wine touched his tongue and he swallowed it with a satisfied smile. “Ah, good as gold.” He placed the open bottle down to wait for Alana to also take a sip. She nodded her consent.
“The fading is a big problem, and why only structures and things built before the ‘War of Hundred Years’ survives the departure of the owners, it just doesn’t make sense. The answer does lie in the past, it must.”
Alana took a small piece of cheese, a luxury in an age of lean food supplies. The cheese was not true but created from chemicals and in fact a poor substitute, but the cheese went well with a good bottle of old wine. Wine was original and produced from the last grapes grown on the family vineyard some one hundred and fifty years ago. The grapes had been preserved for many ages and only just created into wine twenty years ago. A true wine which even though was prepared by Harold’s father had not faded with him. She held the cheese in her fingers and waited for Harold to pour the ancient wine. “I think, the human life form is connected to the physical world built, at least the personal things. Things that they touched every day is part of who they are. That is why those things fade with them.”
He poured the wine, “for some reason my parents combined work of the new quantum computer and the repaired shield are still working. You would think they would also disappear? And this wine is still here. ”
“Maybe it’s because others who maintained and finished those projects are still in the bodily form, like us. You told me you had helped him make this drop.” Alana took another sip of wine.
Harold smiled over the memory of squashing the reconstituted grapes with his feet at the age of ten.
“ I count on this, and hope.” He raised the goblet, adding , “to them both, Alice and Peter.”
Alana repeated, “to them both”.
The newly- weds settled down on an old leather and wood lounge, they dank the bottle between them and nibbled on the artificial cheese. Then melded into each other in love making.
In the afterglow of their physical bonding Harold cuddled his spouse and ran his fingers through her hair. He could see her looking deep into his with nothing but tenderness and total acceptance of his being.
“Alana, I cherish you so much that if anything happened to you, I would follow. Like my ma did.” He then sat up, “I hope it works. Is the Quantum down?”
His bride pulled herself up onto her left elbow so she could look at his face. “I re-checked before I came into to see you, Harold and unfortunately the maintenance will take several hours. You realize your mother maybe safe in the epsilon system?”
“Faith is all I have that her data is linked into the new and not be trapped in the closed epsilon programs. Alana, I don’t trust that old system at all. My father’s consciousness transferred without a problem but, the quantum was fully operational when he faded.”
“I am sure your father will find a way to save her. He may have saved her awareness before she disappeared when he went into the Quantum system.”
“Of course, you must be right about that, I hope anyway.” He allowed himself to relax and lie down with his wife. Before too long the couple curled up on the air bed and slept.
During the night, he felt his awareness peak into a half-awake sense as an apparition of a shadow hung over his sleeping body. Through his flickering eyelids he saw the shadow hold up a book and then put what was an ancient data saver flex-sheet in the pages. Then the ghost-like image placed the book into his personal bag. The shadow reappeared over the top of him. He felt his lips move with a soundless word, “Ma?”
Harold tried to wake up to touch the obscure image, but it dissolved before he could. Now bolt upright, he glanced around the cellar to see if the apparition lurked in the darkened space.
“Nothing.”
Alana stirred, “too early, relax.”
“ Ma was here.”
“You’re imagining it, go back to sleep.”
Here ends the first part of this first chapter of DIORAMA PART ONE THE FUTURE WORLD.
By Johann Christoph Storer – This file was donated to Wikimedia Commons as part of a project by the National Gallery of Art. Please see the Gallery’s Open Access Policy., CC0, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?curid=81465703
It is our way of seeing things which form our world around us, and each individual sees that world through their own eyes and values. We all judge everyday. We all see our world through our morals and judge others by those morals that are formed in our learning, growing years.
There is an old saying which is true in many ways.
“Give me a child until seven and I can form you the adult they well become.”
At seven my parents where questioning their own faith and visited many different religious institutions. This I believe cemented my own thirst to know about all faiths and now in my middle age years I have settled into acceptance of my own personal relationship with the universe and the power of life on this Earth of ours. For me, God does exist. But I don’t push my understandings down on anyone else. Religious understanding has become personal and individualized, not as a whole and one institution.
From seven on wards, it is fear which stops us from doing something morally wrong, or against our family values. Fear rules our world more so these days than anything else. For by going against the childish learnt behaviours we must change ourselves deeply on a spiritual level. Either improve ourselves or slide into the depressive state of low self esteem without reaching out to others to help.
Depression can rise when one’s values and morals are challenged and questioned. You no longer can believe in what was once drummed into you as those values and understandings have mortified into something seen as alien.
Who then is right?
Which person has the right to say what is right and wrong?
At one time it was the spiritual leaders now it is select groups pushing their own understandings so they can be accepted. I don’t blame them, they suffered all types of discrimination and do have a right to live and love. But do they have the right to push their own individual understandings onto the vulnerable? Do they have the right to infiltrate all our institutions and favour only one way of thinking? Are they just repeating the same prejudicial behaviour on those who think differently from them, as was done to them?
I question? There is no answer for me.
So the acceptance must be to allow , let live all creeds and believe in the universal goodness of human love. That love which connects to our universal collective, and to love yourself as to who you are and not judge the other by your own values and beliefs. All then are treated with respect and all must be given the same opportunity to express themselves.
This I believe must go for everyone regardless of their judged alien understandings. They have reached their own understandings by searching themselves deeply, courageously and hopefully achieved happiness by doing so.
“The un-examined life is not worth living.” Plato Apology (38a5–6)
Even so, there must be a general consensuses of allowing the other to have rights as well. Remember we are all different and we all need to learn to live side by side, that is why we are alive in the first place, on this planet. We must all have a place, even those who don’t see our own values as being correct. Those people are human too and need to be able to express their right to their lives and live within their own understandings. Only they need to give way at times to allow the other to have just as much right to their own codes of spirituality or difference in how they wish to live their lives.
This is all part of acceptance of the other. And I will not preach nor express , or impress my own personal understanding on anyone else. Can I hope that one day , the other can do the same?
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rosewriter3 