The Corridors of Eternity
“Will I have to wait long”, she said as another tear rolled down the image of her face. “Alas, the people will need more time than we are accustomed to before I will be able to wake you.” The man in the mist said softly to her, holding back his own tears.
With both of them holding hands and looking into the images of their eyes, he slowly approaches her and leans down to kiss her goodbye for now. “My love for you lasts beyond the corridors of eternity, the God and Goddess will never let us be apart for too long. The people will always need us, and there will always be lifetimes for us to be together” he said, stepping back preparing to release her hands. “I await the moment where every breath I take in and exhale, will be a declaration of my love for you”, she whispered as the mist began to shroud them both, causing him to slowly disappear, as his hands released hers. ” I await the day that you will follow me, and make my broken love whole again”. His words echoing, as the mist covered him in silky clouds, leaving her alone, only to have that mist that enveloped and carried him away, now slowly blowing away, revealing a lush tropical paradise surrounding her.
An island paradise, forever untouched by the sands of time she walked amongst. The textured browns of the tree trunks with bright green drooping leaves crowned upon them. The colorful flowers of differing heights, some trampled upon as she walked the jungle floor, others swaying back and forth in their reds, whites, oranges, and blues, moving between shadow and light, from the canopy of green above. The God and Goddess had prepared this paradise for the two Tiki’s, a resting place in-between trips to the mortal world, a place where they waited within the corridors of eternity, until the next Tiki Call.
“Why must I wait before going mother,” Kaliki asked, as she dipped her cupped hands into the cold falling water from the jagged volcanic rock, into a clear mirror-like pool, of which the black walls of that jagged rock served as a throne upon which the goddess sat.
A hypnotizing view the goddess Ka’wani was. Her mouse brown, waist-length hair, bearing a yellow, orange, and white crown of flowers, with wrists and ankles bearing rings of like flowers, with the exception of feathers of red, blue, and yellow weaved into the ring of flowers draped around her neck, where her breasts and waistline were covered in a sarong fashioned type of brown animal furs. With lightly tanned smooth skin, hazel eyes with a soothing jungle tint, and with a soft echoing voice that was more like a whisper in one’s mind, she bent forward, running her fingers through Kaliki’s silky blonde and brown windswept curly hair answering. “The people in the spoiled lands have lost their way. Very few remain that have remembered the old ways, and it will take some time for Walani to prepare the way for you.”
Kaliki had done this many times before, over many lifetimes, and in many lands, but this was the first time they were being sent to the spoiled lands. They had always heard of the spoiled lands, from rough and weathered sailors that had come to trade with whichever island they had been dispatched to during that particular call, but that was long ago, or what had at least seemed had been long ago. Time and space had no measurement inside the corridors, and they had spent much time in waiting until this Tiki Call came to them.
Kaliki was a much younger looking version of the goddess Ka’wani, but looking down into the pool, after hearing the words of the Goddess, she noticed that her hair was now blonde with brown streaks, and her skin had changed to a much less tanned version of her last image, with a few freckles on her face, a couple of them dotting her lips, and nose. Her eyelashes longer and thicker, as well as her eyebrows. The hair on her arms was almost invisible, and for some reason, her face had become rounded, and her cheeks larger than usual. For what reason her lips had become more full, was beyond anything she could imagine. Where am I going like this? She wondered as her fingers slowly touched her now freckled lips.
It bothered Kaliki that her appearance had changed so much this time. Were the spoiled lands so devoid of the ancient wisdom, that they had all become plain, and colorless? What did they look like? Was it true that the lands were barren in most places, and that the people had fashioned villages of stone and metal everywhere, without need for the many colors of the lands? Whatever had become of these lands, it appeared that she was going to be the product of it.
Her last calling was in Hawaii, during the 1940’s. She could barely remember what they had done, or the places they had been. Their memories always began to fade when they returned back to the corridors, but she did remember that the people had become many, and they struggled for peace among them. Had the spoiled lands become that way because the people had warred upon themselves? At least our lands within the corridors were unchanging, there was always no fear of change, they always had an eternity in paradise to return to after the trials of the people.
Their home Sat along the edge of the wide river of the island’s cinder and smoke dispelling volcano, the wind carried away the byproducts of the cone-shaped vent. On the other side of the crystalline lake formed by the falling water, was a very small fracture at the base of the cone, serving as a gas and magma releasing spatter vent. The bright orange bubbles and grey gasses that popped from it at times were inconsistent but always caught the attention when dispelled.
The cool water and the searing fire were the vehicles that Ka’wani and Tua’a used as points of appearance at the remote temple spot built across the lake where Kaliki and Walani lived during their times in the corridors. Sacrifices of plant and food were a commonplace ritual and were always met with blessings back at the large wood, thatch, and vine hut that served as their home.
“The pain of being apart from Walani is what I wish you would explain to me,” Kaliki said, facing towards the fracture in the cone’s base of a volcanic rock, as the words began to echo forth during the small fiery lava spattering being released from it. “Walani will face many obstacles in the spoiled lands, his wait will be long because he must prove himself worthy of you Kaliki. What the people have forgotten, and what they have become, will be your enemy in this calling, not their crimes upon sea and sands.” The mighty Tua’a sternly bellowed as the magma spat with each word. Still confused by the answer, she turned toward the hut, walking slowly, staring at the leaf-covered jungle floor, with tears beginning to slowly slide down her freckled nose and cheeks.
Kaliki was a creation of Ka’wani, so she was not allowed in the direct presence of Tua’a. The same was true of Walani. When he heard the Goddess, he said her voice came from the falling water. Neither understood why, neither cared. All they both knew, is that both the God and Goddess were responsible for everything, and in everything, they were to be trusted.
She knew the time had come for departure, and knew the required ritual before sleep. She looked back one last time into the water slowly flowing alongside her, taking one last look at what she would look like when she awoke. It was the only constant in the Tiki Call. They always knew what their bodies would be like when they awoke, in a manner of speaking. And right before their eyes closed, they were given the destination that they would find each other again. The destination where she would meet Walani, and begin the process of being awake.
She panicked this time. It was the spoiled lands, she had no idea where they even were, let alone the landscape upon waking. Would her mortal vessel be able to fall in love with the Walani? What if she didn’t, would she be trapped until it was too late? Would she not return to the corridors upon failure? Something was wrong, this call was unlike what she could remember about the others. What had the people done in their absence, how had they spoiled the lands?
Sitting on the edge of their bed, she put her head in her hands, her long curly hair falling from off of her shoulders, now covering her arms, and deeply cried. “Please Ka’wani, I will fail, I cannot do this, bring him back, the people will destroy us.” She said through her trembling fingers and tears.
“Trust yourself, listen only to those who trust you. Sleep.”
In a matter of seconds, she found herself laying back, and asleep, the one last communication before fading to black was now upon her…
Moonlight Beach, Encinitas, CA.
The painted sign had written across the top of an ocean wave as the location marker floated by her mind. She reached out, trying to grab it, to touch it. “I will not forget, bless me Ka’wani with memory, my only request…”