As I knelt upon the desert floor looking into the flames—I was struck down by a wave of Beethoven.
I had been cut down by the psychedelic nature of the moment. Overwhelmed by the vicious cycle—the cyclical nature of all things.
Just as the circle of life rises and falls from the dust of the earth—the flames of Beethoven licked the arid air that night.
“I am Waking Bear” called out a voice from beyond the flames.
“I have just awoken from a long slumber” said he.
The snake hissed and calf cried as Waking Bear’s roar echoed across the cosmic desert plains.
I then envisioned Ludwig himself pounding upon the piano of death as he roared down life’s mad highway and into the fiery oblivion of the great unknown.
A billow of smoke then clouded my vision, and as the stars faded before my eyes, the rhythmic midnight orchestra of the Chihuahuan Desert lulled me into a catatonic sleep.
All was black.
I had been consumed.
[but]
The bear will wake again.
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