Experiment 9 Crystal Cave

Heart within the Heart
the cave of creation
where crystals set in
mission and purpose
in darkness they glow
the ancient sparks of
new beginnings in
the womb of humanity, or earth
one fire to light them all
within, without
there is infinite space
to grow, to be
the star is hidden
the search in earth begins
a thread with creation and destiny.


Dreamweaver - age 51

The blue stone she is holding shatters into seven pieces. It is a spectrolite much like a labradorite she has seen before, except this stone is alive not just with colours but with sentience to create its own form. It made a sound upon shattering; perhaps in agony or ecstasy, she is not certain.

It seems strange that she can hear and sense the blue stone in her mind. It feels like she is wearing a headset which projects sensations into her head and these translate as emotions or adjectives that she understands. She has heard them before in other objects, but then those barely register in her consciousness and seem easy to dismiss as faint figments of imagination.

With this blue stone, it is acutely clear, magnified even on some levels of awareness that these thoughts are distinct and not her own. This makes it easy for her to identify these concepts as “of an other" in her mental interactions. She does not even need to touch the stone after a few interactions to be affected by its matrix; only a flash of its spectral blue that is almost spontaneously followed by mental triggers that her mind sorts into learned words.

Many have come into contact with the blue stone before her. They puzzle the stone and nuzzle it, most cannot see, much less sense it. The blue stone is raw and unpolished so it attracted far less attention until this girl picked it up. The stone seems to hear her heart beat and mind pulse. It seems to be activated by her presence.

She found the stone perhaps by chance, more likely by fate. Someone had dislodged it from the shelf that the geologist had stacked with a collection of various stones. It rolled right to her foot and barely touched her. She saw that some pieces had chipped off and noticed a faint buzzing sensation in her hand when she picked it up. She tilted her head slightly as she usually did when she was caught in her fleeting analysis of a thought. Her eyes were gazing off into the distance but it was her vision that bothered her, a giddy field of small blue lightning rods zapped across for a second or two. She blinked back her awareness.

The geologist had been too busy and exasperated by the tumble of his collection to notice her brief spell. Too many stones he said, breaking her daydream, he really should throw them back into the caverns from which they came. The girl took his words as an invitation to help him get rid of the stones and so pocketed the raw stone in her hand. Her mother came into the room and ushered her out. Her two older brothers accompanied her home.

Her father is probably famous. He has big men surrounding him at all times, even the geologists who work with him. Some of them are nice when they smile at her but most of them look sullen and tough. They obey her father more than she does. They seem more afraid of her father than she is. Her father gives her bear hugs and kisses whenever she runs up to greet him.

Someone has gifted him with a collection of more stones and he is busy once more. He disappears down another of his tunnels of work. She has been down once with him and is wonderstruck by the big space underground with sparkling lights which illuminated the interior. Her mother does not like her or her brothers to go underground. The girl does not mind it because her father and the big men are always around but it can be a tad boring to simply watch them work.

Her father sometimes picks on the stones and teaches her about the various specimens’ matrix. She is more fascinated by the stories he tells her, and how she sometimes pictured stories of her own around the pieces of coloured rocks. He once gave her a pretty bracelet of shimmering blue and gold labradorite rocks. She has worn it since.

The blue stone she is holding shatters into seven pieces. The past few days she spent with it has been interesting. It seems to be telling her stories of a very old sort; when the people did not use any kind of metal like steel or have cars or wear fancy clothes like her mother. The people from the stories of the stone wore simple plain clothes which were decorated with many types of stones and a kind of gold. The blue stone seems to be a popular choice because most of them had at least one piece of it. They had animals of all sorts for moving around or doing work with and these animals too had a bit of blue stone. The stones are usually hung around their necks or on their head gear.

It is not an explosive shattering; just a crack upon her light touch and seven pieces now exist. Each piece is still sizable as pendants but now its blue glow is visible to the eyes. She seems to feel proud of the stone for splitting itself up, or maybe it is the stone which feels pride.