The dome of home

AT THE CENTRE OF the rainbow garden is the glass dome, linked by causeways to the four peoples’ palaces. Is it not familiar, this place where the colours of nature and a graceful dancing architecture sing out under cerulean skies? Don’t we know in our hearts the feeling of lightness and ease that comes when we stand once more under this dome, surrounded by this jewel-like world? Isn’t there a little thrill at feeling  held within its happily harmonious horizons, home again? Is it so fantastical – or is it merely forgotten a little, buried under the soulless, lifeless, synthetic weight of techno-reality and all its dead-end vistas?

Here, once again, we stand free of all that oppresses us, burdens us with borrowed limitation and blindness to what is truly ours, to what is truly precious and life-giving. And we breathe deeply in the crystalline air, feeling its vitalising flood ripple through our bodies as we set out to explore the magic of our natural being, released at last from every insidious synthetic hook that pinned us into the mechanised matrix.