Sailing aboard the Pneuma (Part Six)

The bows of the Pneuma sliced through the mirror sea. Not a wave as far as the eye could see in any direction. There was the gentlest of breezes coming from behind yet the sails were full as if taken by a gale. Surely, nothing was as it seemed on this journey.

The sun stood at its zenith. The blue sky was as clear as the sea was smooth, except for some cotton wool on the horizon to the starboard side – a perfect day. Although alone, as far as I could tell, I felt no need of company. “Today could go on forever.” I thought, breathing in the sea air.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the huge wingspan of bird gliding down as if riding a thermal. We had been at sea for days so this could not be a land-based bird. What sea bird could be so large, so imposing yet, as it came into full view and focus, so handsome? I could not quite believe that I used that word to describe an animal, but there was no other suitable adjective.

My visitor landed and his, I presume it was he; females are rarely described as handsome are they? Rather beautiful, pretty, attractive - presence seemed to fill the entire deck. He tucked his wings in and briefly glanced around the ship with intelligent eyes. I also glanced around and found the decks absolutely empty. No one was at the wheel, but it seemed locked and still.

I looked into his eagle-like face. That was as close to an identification I could come. He was so much more than an eagle. He had the dignity, the bearing but there was something otherworldly about him. He stood at least five foot tall from claw to crown. His plumage was a deep golden brown with streaks of silver like lightning bolts in a night sky.

He looked me. His eyes penetrated to my innermost, I felt almost naked as if nothing at all could hide from such wisdom and strength. As I looked back at him not quite able to hold his gaze, I saw the feathers of his head lift ever so slightly as the breeze blew gently across our meeting place. My mind went back to the wonderful books I had read in the past where eagles helped people and children rode upon their backs. He read my mind, he must have. He spoke, “There will be no rides today, but you will fly friend. His voice was like a rich and warm bedtime drink. Comforting, warming, and relaxing.

His eyes became bigger and bigger and they seemed to consume me. I passed into him. There were clouds, not above, but beneath me. Through the breaks in the clouds, I could see the ocean. He was right, I was flying, and he was next to me. I tried to crane my neck round to find the means of flight but his voice spoke, “Don’t look for wings, see me and mine and you will stay aloft."

“Where are we going?” I shouted. I have no rational idea for why I shouted, for my friend was not six feet away, his right wing stretching out over me. Somehow, that beak smiled, his eyes twinkled and spoke, “It is not about where you are going it is where you are. Welcome to forever.”

Land came into view. As we passed over the coastline, I could see streets, railways, houses, whole towns and villages. Could it be possible that I could see a whole country all at once? We swooped lower and then gliding in just above the rooftops, I heard a baby cry. I could see through the roof of a house on the corner of the street, opposite a small post office ... “I was born there, I am sure of it!” I shouted ... again. My friend gestured to a field not a few feet ahead, from my perspective. There was a football match in progress. “There you are.” His voice seemed to point like a human finger. I saw myself all those years ago, it was me, I remember that team, I was only about thirteen.

One after the other we flew over scenes from my life and the lives of those I loved and cared about without losing sight of the preceding scenes. Memories, bad and good came flooding in. Such were the emotions that this tidal wave of events brought about, I felt that I might drown or suffocate or whatever was the appropriate manner of death in such circumstances. I saw the funerals, the weddings, the births, the tragedies, hopes realized and dashed. I saw an older me, standing fists raised to the heavens, red in face, screaming out my ignorance and confusion fuelled frustrations.

We wheeled around and all of these scenes seemed to twist into one gloriously white and pure whirlpool. Slowly the spinning stopped to reveal a picture. Somehow, my whole life and those that shared it with me, known and unknown, froze into one glorious picture. Not a still picture, you understand. Not a normal one at all, but rather a visual code and as I stared I suddenly became aware that it all made sense. Like the ingredients of a delicious cake, which, on their own are not worth much, but when correctly mixed by a master baker, create a wonderful creation a whole, a complete and total life.

Another voice came from all around me, a familiar voice. The million tongues said, “Now you can see, once and for all, I did know how to write your story for it is one with mine.”

The earth fell away, up and up we went. Eagle and I flew to the rim of the sky where blue darkens into night black. A sparkling sea below and twinkling stars above. The curvature of the earth stretched out on either side. “Look” said the nighttime drink voice of my companion. High up to the left was the throne I saw at sea the other day. The light shone and the voice that threatened to burst forth with a power almost too great to bear, “Enjoy your discoveries, enjoy this forever.” (Let the reader understand).

Immediately, I felt the sea breeze. The deck around me was abuzz with activity. The sky was darkening. I looked up to the upper deck and there he stood. He smiled down at me as the breeze gently lifted, ever so slightly, the hair upon his head.