Preadventure
by Bryan Ward
Act Zero, Scene Negative Three
A monorail speeds through the midnight sky, high above the city's heart
(Avenging Angel converses with Jonathan Sparrow in private compartment)
Avenging Angel:
Oh soul, hear you the sad bark against the wind fall?
Jonathan Sparrow:
Indeed, in the ether there is a quiet infirmity. Though 'tis not fault of the terrestrial host, this damage from its airy parasites.
Avenging Angel:
But like poison runs not in veins of the sky. How unburden'd is the air! Light it holds within, fuel of sphere'd ambitions.
Jonathan Sparrow:
There are heavens, ground'd. Heavens of darkness, well.
Avenging Angel:
Dear soul, what know you of unhuman spaces?
Jonathan Sparrow:
Of all the clouds I've ever been, those that meant the most to me never have exist'd.
Avenging Angel:
Untrain'd scout, is that the matter of your life?
Jonathan Sparrow:
May I, a lush'd forest of green prefer to pale stretches of cloud. Growing up land may incline you wood towards, but then, well might it the opposite. For musn't such devote'd love of sky imply hatred of earth, or some budding dissatisfaction, however faint? Have the woods in you been lost? Once, while deep inside, I look'd to the night skyward and saw in the branches, nerves covering the undercarriage of my own skull. The material of the cells was warm air and insects. The sound of my thinking that of airplanes and the sirens of police cars. I saw the color of my thoughts; firefly green when the connections were well and high, brightly sharp when not, all against the pulsation (barely perceptible) of bathing glory in that horizon fading. And at the center of my nature's skull, working this magic, was I; the brain, totally alive. The earth is my sacred body. The comfortable forest, woodland home to my brain, while the sky remains but cold sky.
(silent moment)
Avenging Angel:
Soon arrive'd, will we be. How I wish in your place I was.
Jonathan Sparrow:
Spoken how?
Avenging Angel:
When this way your heart aches, home is the only place for rescue.
Act Zero, Scene Negative Two
Providence, crossroads. Midnight with fresh air & low breeze
(Owl & Nightwatchman meet)
Owl:
Weary traveler, why so low you fly?
Nightwatchman:
Unsure must my answer be. Be it the weight of a heart most fallen, or the burden of my mind, I make no guess. My spirit sinks everlow much as the lost ship drifts deeper into a floorless ocean.
Owl:
A venture is never beyond possibility, good sir.
Nightwatchman:
You've a starry vision. Fly you not through the clouds of fear? Oh! Now bare is the carpet'd floor and the wind of years ago blows warm through the windows screen'd and rust'd. I stilly sit upon the bed uncover'd examining my company... when dreams strike; great scenes of water and violence, trespassing upon the highest of air and of flying trees, blowing out all the glass of the world. Such misery are the terrible visions of waking!
Owl:
I too have seen it.
Nightwatchman:
There is grand mystery in the Appalachian evenings and that of Caribbea equal. Listen soul and live to tell others! Shadows have flesh. When cut, light it is that which flows.
Owl:
I've bathe'd not in blood, of east nor west.
Nightwatchman:
Clean we are, wing'd kin. Fear, though fear not. Walk that invisible line. Fly single, but together with your like. The morning is paint'd with the evening's blood as, in turn, the day's damage is its own phantom. Perpetually following in this binary ruin, the foremention'd evenings counterbalance, as also their suffering days. Will you remember this to the day's dove?
Owl:
In the fullest measure will I.
Nightwatchman:
My life spent, I've gaze'd into evening's heart and a force most heavy has upon me fallen; none but my own grief. As crush'd me here, my natural eyes burst. I look now upon the evening with a perception unique. Within night, living in pain as it will appear, the cosmos is magnificent of beauty; full of pleasure and wondrous. For the day, this is also true. But as one looks for truth, they will see it not in the day for it being eclipse'd by light. As they will see it not in the night, as I have life tried, for it being by dark cover'd. The periods of transition, from one harbor to another, are the moments when life's secret heart comes closest to breaking through. Someday, it shall.
Owl:
Such a prize!
Nightwatchman:
Perhaps. But it was the most pain I ever was in.
Act Zero, Scene Negative One
Providence, daybreak the next morning.
(Dove and Owl meet)
Dove:
(screaming as it approaches Owl and lands)
Morning beholds the theft of animation from dear bones! The night watchman has been much eaten though.
(Owl follows Dove to the corpse where they land nearby)
Dove:
Dear, oh, where be it now, the good soul?
Owl:
I believe too great its feelings for the ornament flesh. Indeed, much damage has occurr'd.
Dove:
I recall still the comfort I afford'd he when so long ago lost. For several weeks, weeping into the long ocean of being miss'd, I came morning round, afternoon and evening also, receiving him fresh tears when he them all lost. Now gone the soul has and left I but to wonder. Where it now is, does this beautiful lighthouse remember me, its fleeting and most transient of keepers?
Owl:
And I, a companion in this dark life. I am for sadness fetch'd.
Dove:
This scene is broken. Let us begin to forever leave, all farewells said to this land unsettle'd and its many ghosts.
Owl:
The tourniquet has burst for the last time. The wound must have its way now.
Dove:
A good adventure to you, sweet friend.
Owl:
And to you. Good-bye one belove'd.
(Legendary Deer and Jonathan Sparrow observe Owl & Dove fly off into the east and west, respectfully)
Legendary Deer:
They've into the horizon gone.
Jonathan Sparrow:
Knowest not, neither answer is a solution unto its own? Stay with the heart or lose yourself in the circulation. Beware, good world, now is the threshold shatter'd.
(Sunset closes scene)
Preadventure
by Bryan Ward
Act Zero, Scene Negative Three
Avenging Angel:
Jonathan Sparrow:
Avenging Angel:
Jonathan Sparrow:
Avenging Angel:
Jonathan Sparrow:
Avenging Angel:
Jonathan Sparrow:
(silent moment)
Avenging Angel:
Jonathan Sparrow:
Avenging Angel:
A monorail speeds through the midnight sky, high above the city's heart
(Avenging Angel converses with Jonathan Sparrow in private compartment)
Oh soul, hear you the sad bark against the wind fall?
Indeed, in the ether there is a quiet infirmity. Though 'tis not fault of the terrestrial host, this damage from its airy parasites.
But like poison runs not in veins of the sky. How unburden'd is the air! Light it holds within, fuel of sphere'd ambitions.
There are heavens, ground'd. Heavens of darkness, well.
Dear soul, what know you of unhuman spaces?
Of all the clouds I've ever been, those that meant the most to me never have exist'd.
Untrain'd scout, is that the matter of your life?
May I, a lush'd forest of green prefer to pale stretches of cloud. Growing up land may incline you wood towards, but then, well might it the opposite. For musn't such devote'd love of sky imply hatred of earth, or some budding dissatisfaction, however faint? Have the woods in you been lost? Once, while deep inside, I look'd to the night skyward and saw in the branches, nerves covering the undercarriage of my own skull. The material of the cells was warm air and insects. The sound of my thinking that of airplanes and the sirens of police cars. I saw the color of my thoughts; firefly green when the connections were well and high, brightly sharp when not, all against the pulsation (barely perceptible) of bathing glory in that horizon fading. And at the center of my nature's skull, working this magic, was I; the brain, totally alive. The earth is my sacred body. The comfortable forest, woodland home to my brain, while the sky remains but cold sky.
Soon arrive'd, will we be. How I wish in your place I was.
Spoken how?
When this way your heart aches, home is the only place for rescue.Act Zero, Scene Negative Two
Owl:
Nightwatchman:
Owl:
Nightwatchman:
Owl:
Nightwatchman:
Owl:
Nightwatchman:
Owl:
Nightwatchman:
Owl:
Nightwatchman:
Providence, crossroads. Midnight with fresh air & low breeze
(Owl & Nightwatchman meet)
Weary traveler, why so low you fly?
Unsure must my answer be. Be it the weight of a heart most fallen, or the burden of my mind, I make no guess. My spirit sinks everlow much as the lost ship drifts deeper into a floorless ocean.
A venture is never beyond possibility, good sir.
You've a starry vision. Fly you not through the clouds of fear? Oh! Now bare is the carpet'd floor and the wind of years ago blows warm through the windows screen'd and rust'd. I stilly sit upon the bed uncover'd examining my company... when dreams strike; great scenes of water and violence, trespassing upon the highest of air and of flying trees, blowing out all the glass of the world. Such misery are the terrible visions of waking!
I too have seen it.
There is grand mystery in the Appalachian evenings and that of Caribbea equal. Listen soul and live to tell others! Shadows have flesh. When cut, light it is that which flows.
I've bathe'd not in blood, of east nor west.
Clean we are, wing'd kin. Fear, though fear not. Walk that invisible line. Fly single, but together with your like. The morning is paint'd with the evening's blood as, in turn, the day's damage is its own phantom. Perpetually following in this binary ruin, the foremention'd evenings counterbalance, as also their suffering days. Will you remember this to the day's dove?
In the fullest measure will I.
My life spent, I've gaze'd into evening's heart and a force most heavy has upon me fallen; none but my own grief. As crush'd me here, my natural eyes burst. I look now upon the evening with a perception unique. Within night, living in pain as it will appear, the cosmos is magnificent of beauty; full of pleasure and wondrous. For the day, this is also true. But as one looks for truth, they will see it not in the day for it being eclipse'd by light. As they will see it not in the night, as I have life tried, for it being by dark cover'd. The periods of transition, from one harbor to another, are the moments when life's secret heart comes closest to breaking through. Someday, it shall.
Such a prize!
Perhaps. But it was the most pain I ever was in. Act Zero, Scene Negative One
Dove:
(Owl follows Dove to the corpse where they land nearby)
Dove:
Owl:
Dove:
Owl:
Dove:
Owl:
Dove:
Owl:
(Legendary Deer and Jonathan Sparrow observe Owl & Dove fly off into the east and west, respectfully)
Legendary Deer:
Jonathan Sparrow:
(Sunset closes scene)
Providence, daybreak the next morning.
(Dove and Owl meet)
(screaming as it approaches Owl and lands)
Morning beholds the theft of animation from dear bones! The night watchman has been much eaten though.
Dear, oh, where be it now, the good soul?
I believe too great its feelings for the ornament flesh. Indeed, much damage has occurr'd.
I recall still the comfort I afford'd he when so long ago lost. For several weeks, weeping into the long ocean of being miss'd, I came morning round, afternoon and evening also, receiving him fresh tears when he them all lost. Now gone the soul has and left I but to wonder. Where it now is, does this beautiful lighthouse remember me, its fleeting and most transient of keepers?
And I, a companion in this dark life. I am for sadness fetch'd.
This scene is broken. Let us begin to forever leave, all farewells said to this land unsettle'd and its many ghosts.
The tourniquet has burst for the last time. The wound must have its way now.
A good adventure to you, sweet friend.
And to you. Good-bye one belove'd.
They've into the horizon gone.
Knowest not, neither answer is a solution unto its own? Stay with the heart or lose yourself in the circulation. Beware, good world, now is the threshold shatter'd.
