Chapter 25
In the cool of the night, Dedicated saw with his eyes by the light of the moon, and considered briefly that by the automated actualization of creation put forth by the creation of Man, so would eyes ever exist by which to see exactly the same. Though ever the eyes would see ever different, there was nothing else, after all, to see. Knowing, in the silence of the night, by moon and chirp of cricket that that which he would ask of anything saw fully through his own ears and eyes, he understood the continuity of life as it would always be through bodies before death, and walked fully in the knowledge of what one could appreciate about the fullness of Divinity should one choose to look inward.
As he walked, so he saw the days of his life pass before his eyes. Days turned into nights. He walked from forest to dwelling to the riverside, each placement shifting by the next motion of his stride. Before thought could rise without his desire for its presence as he wished himself always mindful of That Which Created All Existence Indiscriminate, he would answer his body’s calls that spoke without thought. He would feed himself, purge himself, join in unity with the flesh housing the same spark of Creation’s Perceptions as saw too through him, and father the children that resulted accordingly; answer the needs of his wife as he walked through the life that he enjoyed as he was himself the tool by which it was created. And as the incarnated angels watched over the direct descendents of Adam, so too did they watch, in wonder, the life of Enoch.
When he Enoch was 363 years old, he had a conversation with his wife. “I have known myself as fully as my mind can conceive, though know that I have not walked as far as my legs can take me. Will you forgive me, Yofi Meikhil Aish Eloki, if I should explore Divinity’s existence beyond what I have known, unfortunately outside of the Grace of your voice should you do the air the honor of calling to me?”
“Husband, our children are old enough to walk without much need for us at present, and I am presently not carrying a child who would miss having a father upon light first touching its eyes. Though I will miss your warmth at night, I know that you crave every bit of experience your existence might allow as you understand it, and cannot stand in the path you walk while existence blesses me with The Love of The Light even without the beauty of your face showing me most of the life I have spent my time being grateful for. I will look forward to the returning of you who is Dedicated ever to walking with That Which Has Created Us All.”
With that, Enoch began to walk toward the Sun at daybreak.
. . .
Months later of wandering, Enoch wondered after the sight far below him and the hill on which he now stood. Catching his breath and resigning himself to what he was seeing, he continued walking. Several hours later, he found himself in an inn in the town of Nod.
The balding, white-haired inn-keeper greeted Enoch with a smile as Enoch walked through the door and sat down at the bar. “Looks like you’ve been on a bit of a journey, lad. Help you to a drink?”
Enoch blinked at the old man in his strange-looking clothing, “I could use some water, though I have no way at present to reciprocate your kindness save for the many dried berries I am currently carrying.”
“Well, berries won’t get ya a cup of wine, but water’s on the house. If you have a story to share of your journeys, however, that might be worth a cup of intoxicant from the blood of the fruit of the vine . . .”
Enoch drank gratefully from the cup handed to him as he told a simple tale to the inn-keeper, “I’ve walked that I might know of the creations of God all I can before I meet the same fate as he who was first-born to existence 55 years ago.”
“Come again?” The inn-keeper was confused by what Enoch had said.
“Adam, the first man to exist, he died 55 years ago or so, and I wish to know what I can of existence if what happened to him is what will one day happen to my own body.”
“I don’t know about who was the first man ever born upon this Earth,” responded the inn-keeper, “but I can respect a man living his life to its fullest before dropping dead. What have you learned of God from your journeys stranger?”
“That it is through our own eyes It watches, and that it calls Itself by our own names.”
The inn-keeper stared at Dedicated for a moment, recognized something in his eyes, took a deep gulp, poured Enoch a cup of wine, and passed it to him. “If you speak no more of your journeys this night, you can have another on the house!”
Tygarjas Twyrls Blog 