Dogwood Chapter V

A Descent

Just now,

a small band of artists walk from the capital to the coast. Not in exile, nor in haste, just in fact.

Maybe a little tired. Maybe a little enchanted. Probably both.

This band of artists, drawn by something deep under the surface, walk their separate roads to the sea. Each chasing a baptism by quest and X marks the spot on a map none of them can see.

x

As they arrive where some worlds meet and others end, the artists step into the surf. One following another in a meandering procession. Their footsteps unfurling in a fishtail braid of crisses and crosses.

They are on a katabasis, the mythic path from center to fringe. A chosen journey through the underworld in search of truth lost to memory.

x

Swept up in their own currents, the artists walk through sand and silence, tracing V threads—V virtues— that bind them to each other and to themselves.

The artists walk in pursuit of the spiritual, loving, sensitive, committed, and impeccable in each of us. The V Divine Currents that braid our steps in on themselves again and again. Pulling us ever closer with the undertow of time.

x

Back on the shore, the artists build monuments that aren’t meant to last forever. But keep in mind that monuments in the sand are still monuments nonetheless.

The artists light fires. Not big enough for the stars to see, just enough to warm those who come close. And it is there that the artists dance in their currents, buffeted by each other’s lead. Comforted in the turning. V threads tug them gently forward.

x

They know not what they seek, these artists at world’s end. World’s beginning. A katabasis. A journey to the depths for knowledge forgotten. X marks the spot on a map none of them can see.

Of course, the artist’s footprints disappear behind them, washed bare by other waves and other tides. For nothing lasts forever. But still, beneath the surf, there shimmers a tribute of their passing: a soft fishtail braid in the sand.

x

The haus walks. We are not lost. We are listening.