The Reaper

Sleep is that of an enigma; it's like dying without the commitment. Although no one prepares you for that of a commitment.... 

One moment, I was sound in my bed of quilts and eagerness of new day. 

The next, I was in a forest full of snow and trees that were gnarled and bent, although that still held enough of a softness to not scare me off. I walked precariously, still wondering as to why and where I was. I walked deeper until I came to a clearing. 

The snow covered clearing was like glass and it shone brightly like the face of the moon. It looked painted, the way it glistened and harmonized with that of the shadows cast by the darkened trees personified as brain stems. I stopped just outside of the ring as a proud and daring buck entered. It was commanding in presence but still deserving of awe. It stood and stared past me. It's eyes were rich and brown, like that of healthy tree rings. A rightful comparison for their molasses grooves held centuries of wisdom. And something of pain and mirth. 

Suddenly, it jerked it's head and started off in another direction. I felt compelled to follow it. 

The buck knew I was in close quarters for it stared up a slow gallop; I increased pace also. 

Suddenly the buck started to run and so did I.

The trees were a blur, my mind was muck but my soul, my soul was ablaze in a light show of catastrophically relevant yearnings of greater teachings and more opulent feelings. I could feel it breaking the mold of my body and transforming. I felt my heart beat faster and my eyesight grow stronger. I was touching the ground and running, running just like the divine buck. I was a doe. 

We ran through the forest. The snow crunched under foot and the wind picked up the loose packed snow we left behind, reanimating it into swirls and waves and signals and cells. As we ran, the trees started to give way and off in the distance I could see a road. 

By now, my new form was screaming for rest but I couldn't stop. I was transfixed on the buck in front of me; maybe a metaphor for achievable goals maybe not but I would chase the white into oblivion if it meant I could obtain something ominously euphoric and strange.

If only I could catch the enigma that is the buck. 

Now we've hit the road, and the buck tramples it with ease. He crosses and then waits for me on the other side. I stop and look up and out. An empty road. A light, flickering snow. Silence that even the wind cannot break. 

I tentatively step out into the road. I'm on my way towards the buck. I'm finally going to catch it. I look up and feel the snow on my eyelashes. It's cool and reassuring. 

Suddenly, the snow melts before that of an almighty white light. It barrels down at me and I only have seconds to look for the buck, who has disappeared into the blackened mass of trees. 

I shiver.

For they never really prepare you for the commitment part.