Through the blazing, white-hot fire I chance upon a gold most pure.

The greatest Find, all opposition has, and will, endure.

After unbelievable pressure the finest diamond takes its form.

The path, so rarely chosen, resultant gem far beyond the norm…

If I were a jeweler, searching for the greatest find,

I’d want a stone so brilliant one long look could turn me blind.

I would know that such a treasure

Through highest pain and stress would pass-

Blackest coal is transformed into a diamond, clear as glass.

…I leave it here, and then retreat

Through every layer, level, shade.

I begin to sense that some sacred, eternal law I’ve disobeyed.

Upon the shadowed walls hints of hurting pasts are shown.

Pains and scars frightfully real, yet rarely seen or known.

Daring to come closer, I feel I’ve seen this once before-

Mist-shrouded, it is a Mirror in the shape of my heart’s door.

Hand trembling, I reach out and grasp a knob more cold than ice.

Through the door I now have opened, I view an endless paradise.

I glance back at the deep and dark through which I had to go.

Light of paradise illuminates what I’d never thought to know.

By hurt and pain endured are changed forever eyes to See

The living, glowing jewel I seek has always lived in me…

As I sit on my bed, thinking-

Each new thought to those past linking-

Hoping that on no sleep I can last.

I soon discovered that another

Sleep-deprived insomni-brother

Lives next door since merely two days past.

This very night I caught him staring

From his bedroom, nearly glaring

Into my home, and doubtless daring

My own stare, with him, to sharing,

Wondering how another’s faring

With attempts at true uncaring,

But who, at the start, is erring,

For he knows he can’t be pairing

Sleep with loads of sugar taken raw.

I, myself, am very wary

Of each sugar salutary,

For I know how hard it is to stop.

Perhaps a salad would be valid

For fighting off a sugar ballad

Sung when high on fructose in the morn.

What a thought! Perhaps my notes

Would receive far better votes

If I’d naught but healthy things for food!

How far can one small warrior go?
How much can he endure?
How hot must be the fires
To make the gold most pure?
How high can the biker climb
Upon the mountain’s height?
How many rounds can the boxer go,
Or the weaker fighter fight?
How many times will each be downed,
And choose to get back up?
No matter that the frowners frown,
Will he fight to win the cup?
And if, though each gives all he has,
Yet still can’t reach the bar,
Will he count the loss a victory
Because he came so very far?
When he makes it to the finish,
And sees another with the crown
Will he count the loss a victory
Choosing to smile, and not be down?
When he sees the crowd all roaring
For another standing near
Will he shrug it off, and turn about,
And for another cheer?
Would he count the loss a victory,
If he had come twice the way,
Through twice the hardships the other had-
Would he take the loss, and stay?
Would he take the chance to start a feud,
And make a friend instead
With the one who reached the finish first
And always seemed far ahead?
And if they both by friendship lived
The remainder of their lives,
Would not both be found at the finish
With the winner’s prize?

‘I am concerned for Janet, Rudy. And for Jim.’

Rudy stood in his customary place behind the front desk, puzzled and surprised.

‘I believed that they were doing quite well, sir. I was not aware that there was cause for concern.’

‘Do you know what is happening this very moment?’

‘I believe I do, sir. Janet has just disappeared by becoming one with the trees, and Jim has just begun his march with the battle clan.’

‘You know as well as I do that what happens in the ‘Word Club’, as we have chosen to call it, is real. The people are real, the creatures of the wild are real, and the forces at work throughout the inner- and outer- world of the Word Club are real.

‘Yes, sir, I do’.

‘You know, then, that the danger is also real. The risks, the possibilities- both wonderful and terrible- are real. While it is possible for one to create conceivably anything, it is a given that creatures, people, and inherent forces, once created, will think and act for themselves. Do you understand, Rudy?’

‘I do, sir.’

‘Both Janet and Jim are, I believe, under the impression that while they can be hurt here, they are not in any real danger- that they are virtually invulnerable in the Word Club. I know you have given them a warning or two, phrased pleasantly for their benefit, but they still seem to view the Word Club as  their own little playground; an all-new jungle gym, built just yesterday for their personal amusement. How long has our little club been around, Rudy?’

‘For over two hundred thirty years, sir, under various names and guises.’

‘Precisely. Over two centuries of new ideas, all growing and expanding on top of one another, with nothing to hinder the growth. That is the amount of wildness we are dealing with. That is the amount Janet and Jim have unwittingly begun to open themselves to- Janet in particular.’

‘What can I do to help, sir?’

The Perpetuator nodded, once. ‘We need you to take up the role we once had you set aside. We need you to go in again, as one of them.  We still count you as our foremost field agent. You will need every bit of your experience, every ounce of your savvy to guide them through the rest of this, their second experience in the Word Club. We need you to leave now, this very moment, if you would.’

‘As you wish, sir’.

His eyes shining, Rudy left his place behind the front desk and approached the opposing wall. A most curious circular picture hung there. Within the smooth golden frame, molten silver flowed, running in an endless whirlpool of glowing color. Never did a single drop of the liquid metal fall out of the golden frame. Rudy stood still, gazing steadily, unblinkingly. After a moment of this the whirlpool stilled, and Rudy beheld a group of broad-shouldered, hard-faced men marching down a hillside. Another moment, and they were out of sight, the sound of their marching feet gradually fading away.

Still he gazed, allowing himself to take in the now-quiet scene. All seemed still at the top of the hill, among the trees. Rudy allowed his eyes to lose their focus, everything becoming blurred. For a moment longer everything was still, and then he caught it- movement just at the edge of his vision. He could not have said whether it was inside or outside the frame, for he did not turn to look; instead, he stayed as he was, in the same relaxed state. Steadily, the entire hidden scene began to unfold before him, and he saw where Janet now was.

She was not alone.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

Janet felt unsettled. This morning as she redressed Jim’s wounds, she had heard a whisper behind her. She had turned to look, but nothing was there. Just now as she was walking back to the fire she had felt a branch brush her arm. Normally she would have pushed the branch aside or walked around it, but she was in a clearing. There were no branches in her way, no trees to block her path. When she looked back, she seemed to hear a whisper, an echo in the clearing.

Jim noticed her discomfort as she came in to the fire.

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’

‘I don’t know, Jim. I feel as if the trees are coming to get me. It is the strangest feeling. Perhaps I should just laugh it off, but somehow, I can’t.’

Jim stopped tending the fire, looked at Janet concernedly, and then said, ‘Tell me about it.’

Janet said nothing for a long moment, silently debating. Then she nodded ‘All right’, and began.

The next morning, as Janet was about to stir the coals back to life, Jim gently caught her hand.

‘Let’s leave it for a while.’

She looked at Jim questioningly.

‘It’s been a long while since we ran, just for the fun of it. What do you say we leave this for a while, and run?’

Janet smiled. ‘That sounds wonderful, Jim.’

That was the first of many wonderful mornings. Each new day they would leave the fire coals and run together through the fields. Janet came to treasure these mornings, as did Jim. Although trees she could not see seemed to brush up against Janet more and more as time went on, she slowly began to lose her fear of them. Though she heard whispers with increasing frequency, she came to think of them as a normal part of her experience in the world. When the trees seemed to thick or the whispers too numerous, Jim would be there to hold her hand, to banish the suffocating trees with a caring word, and to drown out the whispers with his own.

One morning Janet awoke feeling the trees surrounding her, brushing up against her. She heard the whispers in her ears, more insistent than ever before. She began to reach for Jim, but then stopped. Something was different about the whispers and the trees. She listened to and felt them for a moment longer, and then she realized.

I am no longer afraid.

She stood, feeling energized by the realization.

Though the trees still brushed up against her, they were not frightening. Though she still could hear the whisper of the voices, they no longer held any fear for her.

Jim smiled when he awoke and saw her face.

‘You are well, Janet?’

She smiled back. ‘I am well.’

As they ran that morning, both noticed a change in the feeling in the air.

‘It is not a feeling of fear, any longer. It is one of joy,’ Janet enthused.

‘Yes. I feel as though I have been freed- as though we have been freed. Some great overhanging cloud has departed.’

‘I did not realize you felt it so much, too, Jim.’

‘We are very close, Janet. What happens to one of us happens to the other on some level as well. We are becoming closer every day. The trees are getting closer to you too, so they are getting closer to me, though I do not feel them as strongly as you do.’

‘I feel as though I have been freed, too.’

Janet listened and felt the trees. Now that she was not afraid, she did not hold back from the touch of the wild.

It is a different feeling now. She paused. The voices are not gone, but they are friendly. The trees want to be my friends. And I want to be their friend.

And so began the first of many happier days for Janet and for Jim. Each new day as they awoke, Janet would breathe and smell the scent of trees. She learned to open herself to them. They would fill her with the heady scent of life, and she and Jim would run, soaking up the wonderful life which surrounded them, the life of the trees and plants. Over time, the place in her heart which had once been filled with fear was filled instead with joy. She learned to love the invisible trees, and to love being open to them. She found again the happiness of smelling the flowers, of walking barefoot in the grass, and of feeling the rays of the sun on her face and in her hair.

As her enjoyment of the wild grew, her understanding did as well.

‘I feel something different about the trees now,’ she said to Jim one day.

‘Different in what way?’ he asked.

‘I feel people through them.’

Jim’s eyes widened.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I can feel their thoughts, the thoughts and feelings of the trees. And as I feel their thoughts, their feelings, they become people in my mind. Real people. People with friends and families of their own.’

‘What do they look like, in your mind? Do they look like people, like us?’

Janet shook her head. ‘They have the same basic shape as we do, but they are so different from us. Some of them have green skin, some brown, some tan. Their hair is like the treetops, or it looks like the treetops, waving in the wind when the wind blows. But it is their eyes, Jim, their eyes that are the most beautiful. They are all solid color, no whites. And they each have a different color; black, blue, green, yellow, orange, red, violet, and every color in between and more colors, colors I have never seen before.’

‘They do sound very different.’

‘That is only the beginning. They don’t think as we do; for them it is completely unthinkable to fight. They don’t ever fight among themselves because what happens to one of them happens to all of them. If one tree gets hurt, every tree in the forest feels it as though it happened to them.’

Jim was startled to see tears in Janet’s eyes. ‘Janet! What’s wrong?’

‘Oh, Jim, they have been hurt so much by our kind. I can feel it!’

She broke down completely, burying her face in Jim’s shoulder. Jim held her close, at a loss for words. What do I do? The question repeated itself over and over in his mind. What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?

The next morning dawned cold and cloudy. They decided to stay in their shelter and wait out the coming storm. As they waited, they spoke with one another.

‘What has been happening in you? I am worried.’

‘We are changing, Jim. I am changing. I feel more a part of this world, every day that we are here. It seems the more I feel a part of it, the more I feel it. I feel what the trees, the plants, and animals feel. It is as though their life force, their energy becomes mine. I am becoming one of them. It feels good inside, but at the same time, getting closer to the wild scares me. It scares me because’-  she stopped, looking uncertainly into Jim’s eyes.

Jim gently took her hand. ‘Because,’ he continued softly, ‘you feel that we will be pulled apart from each other the closer you get to the wild.’

Janet nodded.

‘There is no need to fear, love. If it happens, and we must be apart for a time, I know that we will find our way back to each other again.’

‘Thank you, Jim.’

So many people sharing their heart,
So many looking for love.
So many broken, embittered stones
Giving up on that light above.
Stones that once were infant hearts,
Broken far too soon.
Shattered pieces,
Across the battlefield of love,
Are strewn.
A heart that had so much to give,
Wounded past its strength, and then,
Turned to rock,
Never to yield, be hurt, or feel again.
‘If this is what it means to love: to live in agony,
I do not want to feel at all,
Or let anyone close to me!
Unyielding walls I will build
As my impenetrable shields-
Never will I feel again,
Never kicked, or cut, or heeled.’
And one by one, across that field,
Hearts are turned to stone,
As they reject the price of love,
To roll on, and on, alone.
Each stone that rolls, once turned so hard,
Will strike on those still soft.
Those hearts will then each turn to stone,
Blind to that love aloft.
So very many perfect hearts
Whose love is now entombed:
Why could they not have clenched their teeth,
Been strong, and cleaned their wound?
I was the one cut into my heart;
My hand ever wields the blade.
Would that I’d not turned and fled,
But faced my wound, and stayed.
For if I’d not given heed to fear,
But turned, and borne, and stayed,
My sorrows would in time have healed,
My soul would not be flayed.
My wounds, scabbed over but never cleaned,
Will fester ever sore-
Infected and untreated,
It has been poisoned so much more.
Yet even now, though greater pain,
Awaits at End than Start,
The strength still lies within- I can detoxify my heart!
For all the stone and all the rock
Is really nothing more
Than fear, and hate, and grudges,
Over time built up in store.
If each of these has helped to poison deep
A once-clean soul,
Then faith and hope will build a bridge
To span the depths and make it whole!

Once again total war fully fills me within.
Much more and I feel I will die.
I search for some window, no matter how small-
I can’t breathe, I can’t sweat, I can’t cry!
What path can I take to find my release?
I have not the power to Mend…
One by one, angels beautiful come to my side
A most bittersweet chance to lend.
Meetings past I recall, they were not in this guise-
I merely saw damsels sublime.
Now I hear their thoughts, a heart- wrenching choice
They are here, to tell me, is mine.
I can keep on my path, continue this course-
Endure my own thoughts till I’m through,
Or I can be altered, no longer myself
Unable to grow, always new.
What a terrible choice! Forever a babe-
Never growing, never thinking- no pain.
Or always growing, and ever hurting,
Fearing that I’ll go insane!
If I stay it may kill me, but my life will be real
If I leave, there’s no chance I’ll return…
There are those who will need you, should you choose to stay;
Vital lessons you’ll help them to learn.
I cannot choose! I wish for both!
I want to grow out my heart.
I am eager to love, yet I feel deep inside
That so doing will tear me apart!
Paralyzed to inaction- they make my choice:
Gathering linen shining white,
Slowly, gently, they wrap me within
Until I am engulfed by the light.
Just before I am gone they whisper
Someday you again may live
When you can take the wondrous love within
And every part of it give…

Jim stared a moment longer at the computer screen, then sat back and rubbed his eyes.

‘Ben, do you want anything? I need a break.’

‘I wouldn’t say no to a couple glazed, Jim. Thanks.’

‘Alright.’

Jim made his way out of his cubicle, heading toward the coffee table and thinking.

I haven’t been able to focus on much of anything today.

The smallest noise seemed to distract him lately. It had been growing all week, and today he could scarcely think straight.

Jim sighed. It was time to rectify the situation.

I’ll call Janet at lunch. She’s been wanting to go back since the moment we left.

‘Here you go, Ben. Enjoy.’

‘Just what I needed. Thanks, Jim.’

‘No problem.’

I hope we don’t have a disease or something. Barely a week past and it’s all either of us can think about.

*          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *          *

The bell jingled as the door opened.

‘Is that new?’ Jim wondered idly.

‘It wasn’t here last week,’ Janet replied.

They walked toward the front desk.

Rudy smiled brightly. ‘Welcome back to the Word Club, sir, madam. Would you like anything before you begin?’

‘I think we’re ready as is, Rudy. Thanks all the same, though.’

‘In that case, I will direct your attention to the large vault door set in the right hand wall just down the hallway behind me.’

‘A vault door, Rudy?’

‘Yes sir. Do you see it there?’

‘I do see it, yes.’

‘As with all things in this world we live in, the Word Club is in a state of constant change. Thus, the method of entering the inner world of the Word Club is also one of constant change.’

Jim and Janet both nodded.

‘I understand.’

‘That makes sense, Rudy.’

‘In order for you to enter the inner Word Club on your visit today, you will require both the practical application of the intellect you possess, and the unrestrained allowance of your intuition. It is these tools that allow true creativity to flow. Are you ready?’

‘Yes,’ they said together.

‘Then I will ask you to approach that vault door.’

Jim and Janet walked up to the doorframe.

‘And now it is up to you to find your way through it.’

They looked into each others eyes for a moment, and then smiled. Janet put her ear and her hand to the vault door.  Jim began to turn the dial slowly.

‘Keep going, keep going…stop! Now back the other way, slowly… stop! Now to the right again…there!’ Janet paused, as though puzzled. ‘This has to be the strangest vault system ever made. I think we need to push the dial in.’

Jim shrugged. He pushed on the dial, and it began to recede into the door. Jim kept pushing, until there was a faint click, and then a great whoosh as the door swung inward away from them, into the inner Word Club.

For a moment both Janet and Jim simply stood in the doorway, breathing in the freshness of the air, their hearts becoming light with relief.

‘That was the longest week of my life, I think,’ Jim said, almost gasping the words.

‘I told you we needed to come back,’ Janet smiled.

‘You were right. I can breathe freely again.’

‘We can breathe freely again,’

‘Yes, we.’

Jim gently took her face in his hands. ‘Yes,’ he repeated. ‘You have freed us again, dear lady. For so great a gift, I thank you.’

After a moment Janet gently ended the kiss. ‘Come, my love. Let us explore this wondrous world once more!’

And so they lost themselves in the glorious wild. Together they ran through endless fields, climbed the highest mountains, braved the thickest jungles, and swam the deepest rivers. Jim defended Janet from the wild animals that roamed the land. He learned to fight the bear, the wolf, and the mountain lion. Janet learned the lore of the plants, the grass and the trees, for at times Jim lay close to death after his battles, and Janet spent many days in nursing her fallen warrior back to health.

In their wanderings, they saw exotic creatures, strange beasts, and beautiful birds. It was a world filled with colors and tastes and smells that were new to them, and they eagerly immersed themselves in it.

They began to see other humans, far in the distance and out of earshot. Jim was certain they were seen, though they were not approached. But one day they came to a new change. Janet sensed it in the air when she awoke, and quickly she went to Jim and shook him. Jim opened his eyes.

‘What is it, my lady?’

‘My love, warriors approach. I feel their anger and desire for battle. They come for you.’

‘I will defend you, lady, as I have done before.’

‘They wish you to fight for them, not against them.’

Jim could see them now, sixty warriors cresting a near hill to the south. Within his heart, he felt the desire to fight. Jim looked in Janet’s hazel eyes. ‘I do not wish to leave you, my lady. Bid me stay and I will stay.’

Janet shook her head. ‘It is not for me to stay you, my love. I bid you go. I will be near.’

‘How can I go, lady, when my heart lies with you?’

‘I will always be near. It is in you to fight. Fight, but fight for love. Fight for love, and you will be stronger, and swifter, your energy greater, your battle-heart fiercer. Be strong, my love.’

Insistently, honey lips pressed against his own. Then Janet seemed to fade. The trees began to appear through her skin; Jim could see the faint outlines of the leaves behind her, the grass through the skin of her ankles, the long-stemmed flowers swaying gently in the breeze.  First they were merely hints, and then strong outlines, and finally her body was all but gone, all but her eyes, still staring into his own. For a moment they gazed, then they, too, were gone as the war band began their ascent up the hill. They halted at the crest. Only the war chieftain walked further, and came within ten feet of where Jim stood.

He looked at Jim warily for a moment, then spoke. ‘We need your help, wild one. Our enemy will long be at our hearth-doors this season. You will be one with us. One in name, one in heart, one in anger, one in spirit, one in strength, one in power, one in war. Fight with us!’

‘I will fight with you.’

‘You’re like no one I’ve ever known,’ she says to me quite slow;
‘The way you think, the words you speak; your feelings ever flow.
Seeing good in everyone, all mankind before your eyes,
The purest light, the deepest dark- you, they mesmerize…
Why care you for strangers as if they are your kin?
How see you their feelings when they keep them locked within?
Whence comes this need ‘twixt bad and good yourself to ever thrust?’
‘Knowing both extremes so very well,’ I say, ‘I must!
Anger, rage, hatred, greed, each have been my name
Desire to destroy, to rend; make all, as me, feel shame
If the light within was naught but dark, their light shined as a sword
Thrust deep into my dark, it would not, could not be ignored
That light, though all my darkness fought to stay both black and dead
First viewed as my great enemy, it saved my life instead!
Thus, I know the ties, the cords, which bind one down in the abyss
Taking years to recover strength from one ‘innocent’ demon’s kiss
I’ve felt the wretchedness of glorious futures that I lost
I see in sharp relief the terrible price, the years, the cost
As I view their pain, I live once more through all my own
Then turning to the future, I realize how much I’ve grown
I know that, all along, each soul carries their great load
I can see their vast potential!
I must help them walk this road!’

Jim peered up at the neon sign in puzzlement.

‘Janet honey, are you sure this is the right place?’

Janet looked at him askance. ‘Of course I’m sure. I entered ‘Breeding ground for the world’s most creative minds’ on the web, and this was top of the list. “A 24/7 symposium for all topics, genres, perspectives, persuasions, opinions, questions and answers relating to life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness, as interpreted by any patrons past, present, and future.’”

‘Past, present, and future?  How can they possibly-’

‘If we’re going to try this, Jim, we have to take it on their terms.’

‘They?  Who’s ‘they?’’

‘The creators of this place. They refer to themselves as The Perpetuators. Not the most engaging title, I admit.’

‘Sounds a bit sophomoric to me.’

‘Like I said, we have to take it on their terms.’

‘Rather broad terms, I should think,’ Jim shrugged. ‘Ah well.  Let’s go for it.’

The door swung smoothly in at Jim’s push.

‘Good evening, sir.  Good evening, madam.  My name is Rudy.  Welcome to The Word Club, where every creative intelligence is welcome. While you are here, it will be necessary for you to abide by our rulebook.’

That’s very-

‘Blunt, sir. I realize it is, but it is imperative for your personal well-being that you do not cross the invisible threshold that runs throughout this establishment.  I will now impart the rulebook to you.’

Did he just read my mind?

‘Section One, Subsection One, Regulations, Chapter One, Paragraph One, Rule One. “No patron or patrons will do anything, say anything, or create anything that has the potential to limit the creative juices in themselves and/ or other patrons with whom they may interact while within the perimeter of this, The Word Club.”  That is the short version, sir, madam.  The remainder of the Rulebook merely expounds upon the particulars which stem from the first rule. Should you be concerned that you will have surrendered your rights by agreeing to this rule, you are welcome to read over the entire rulebook when it is not in use.’ Rudy gestured to a dimly-lit table, set in an alcove to the couple’s right.  A well dressed, balding man sat there, peering intently at the left page of what seemed to be an immense volume; so immense, that neither Janet nor Jim could see the end of it.

‘Is that a state senator? Our state senator?’ Jim asked, bewildered.

‘He doesn’t look very happy, does he? Why would the freedom to be creative make him unhappy?’

‘If I were to guess, madam, I would say that he is trying to find a loophole, by which he hopes to find plausible cause to shut down our little club here.’

‘Shut it down? But why?’

Rudy smiled amiably. ‘Doubtless that will become clear to you the more you visit and the longer you stay. If the first rule is sufficient for you, then, I direct your attention to the little white door at the end of the hall directly behind me. Once you find a way through that door, you are considered in complete harmony with the energies which fuel the creative spirit, which in turn fuels our entire operation.’

Operation?

‘Operation, process, endeavor, journey, and economy are some of the interchangeable terms. Each was, is, and will always be true.’

‘How are you reading my mind?’

‘Again, sir, that will become clear to you the more you visit and the longer you stay.’

Janet tugged gently on Jim’s arm. Jim gave a resigned sigh, and allowed himself to be steered down the hall to the little white door.

‘There’s no doorknob, Jim.’

Jim pushed. The little white door would not budge. He turned to look back toward the entrance. It was gone. The hall was gone.  Rudy was gone. The senator was gone. The floor, ceiling, and walls had all vanished.  There was nothing but the door with no handle, and Jim, and Janet.

‘I think you were right, Janet. We’ll have to take it on their terms.’

They retreated a few steps on the nonexistent floor.

‘What do we do, Jim?’

‘Rudy said ‘in complete harmony with the energies that fuel the creative spirit.’  I suppose the more creative we allow ourselves to be, the closer we come to complete harmony.’

Janet’s eyes seemed to lose their focus as she looked at him.

Jim was still musing on what it would take to be completely creative.

‘All creative geniuses, the ones whose creativity changes the world, believe that anything is possible, that our only limits are those we give ourselves, and that the way to succeed is thus to remove all our limitations.’

‘Jim! That’s it!’

‘We can do anything.’

‘So there are no real barriers!’

‘Which means that there is no door!’

An intense wave of euphoria swept over them. Hand in hand, they walked quickly to the door, kept walking, and passed through it as though it wasn’t there.

‘Because it isn’t,’ Janet smiled.

‘You’re reading my mind,’ Jim smiled back.

‘I like this place already.’

They both turned to look.

‘Whoa…’ Jim breathed.

Janet was momentarily speechless.

Before them lay an expanding panorama. Grass, flowers, and trees of all kinds grew rapidly before their eyes.  Plains and mountains, plateaus and canyons, mighty rivers and beautiful streams as far as they could see.

And we can see as far as we want to, Jim.

Yes, and in as much detail as we want to!

Jim paused, struck by a thought. This is The Word Club?

Yes, sir. This is a club where words come alive.

Rudy? Is that you?

Yes, sir. I am part of the Word Club, after all.

Though We The People try to struggle up
The mount of mud,
We leave an ugly trail behind
Of tears, of sweat, of blood…
We know that wrongs by those elected
Are done both day and night,
They care not for The People
Disregarding every Right.
And now Our plight is so much worse
By giving them the time of day!
They play upon Our fears, that in their power
They may stay.
We keep crawling, but then stop;
Glancing up- a silent sound
There stands a figure, bowed and bent
Waiting, higher on the mound.
A weathered face, a broken back
Shrouded in a dark, gray cloak
From cracked, ne’er- used lips
Comes his first, and last, great croak:
‘Use it well! I’ve gathered all I could
From our nation’s past!’
From the black recesses of that cloak he pulls
A volume vast;
A tome of dark secrets, he thrusts into my hands
The needs of One great Nation
Our determination now demands.
Right and left, my compatriots give a firm nod
Back down upon the plains We stand
Upon the now gray sod
The sacred knowledge stored I place
Upon the frozen ground.
Together We grasp the volume’s clasp
One Nation ceases every sound
Far off but growing louder
Powers That Be are shouting ‘NO!’
‘The time is now, my friends!
Unclasp the clasp! Come on! LET’S GO!!’
‘NOW!!’ We shout together-
The tome’s inner light bursts forth.
In every direction it flows:
West and east, then south and north
As our forefathers fought for their rights
From sea to shining sea,
Our country now rests in our hands
We will again be free!