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The Boulder Room
Around me are rocks, behemoths made of stone, all smooth from the many years of abuse. The cool musky air is reflected in my flashlight. The chirping of bats and the sloshing of my feet in the damp and rich mud echoes freely throughout the cave. The cave floor is infested with moss and moisture and my boots are soiled beyond all recognition. I have never witnessed a place so thick with darkness. My light is a safe haven and without it I am indefinitely lost. The light does not give color to the darkness but rather shape. It’s so dark I have to make up the colors inside my head. I realize I take light for granted; I couldn’t last one day without it.
The trickling of a stream fills the cave with serenity. The pure water which has passed through many trials and tribulations has finally arrived. When I shine my flashlight on its beauty it shines back at me revealing its hidden contents. A smooth stone scoots along the bottom of the stream leaving a noticeable trail of dirt and debris. This stream is the lifeblood of the cave and it has many functions. It acts as the architect, the engineer, the artist, and the genius. Over the countless years of its residence it has carved the cave to its own specifications. This stream, the great artery of the cave, is flawless.
The filtered water, from the surface where I began my journey, drips from the ceiling in an orchestra of beats and rhythms. The director and composer is God himself a master musician, an artisan greater than Beethoven and Mozart combined. He directs the heavy drops to forge with the puddle, the medium drops to clash harmoniously with the boulder, and the little drops to patter on the dusty earth as if marching in unison. God has created a masterpiece! But most will never hear it, see it, or experience it as I have. It is most unfortunate that quite possibly the most inspiring and perfect compilation of sound will be unheard by the majority of people who are only a few meters above. It is a serene tune that allows me to live in the Halcyon days once again. I am at peace and don’t have a worry in the world. All war and hatred is forgotten along with all of the unpleasant realities in life. This is God’s way of giving me a sneak peak of heaven.
The boulders are packed with brilliant gold and silver crystals which are infused with an internal light. They sparkle like the North Star when I shine the light upon them. The boulders are swollen with quartz and fool’s gold. I try to chisel at some of these minerals for my own keepsake but the boulders are stingy and they do not wish to share.
Stalagmites and stalactites swarm the roof and floor of the cave. When I try to tread on them I feel their sting. They are as slippery as an oiled road and as unforgiving as the jaws of a Great White Shark. Rubble and debris along with other signs of human presence litters the cave floor.
The rocks are smashed and pulverized to a dust from the many years of use and abuse. It is as though a war is furiously fought in my absence. There are countless holes, traps, and pits strategically laid out for my foot to meet its deep, jagged mouth. These traps are camouflaged so it is impossible to see unless one is of its many victims. There are many close calls, but I prove to be triumphant over such tyrannies.
A grand mass of rubble and boulders are stacked on top of each other to lay down a pathway toward the entrance. It is in essence a mountain inside a mountain. The boulders which are scattered about the floor are originally from the ceiling of the very room I am standing. They are all related and therefore are impossible to distinguish from one another.
The Boulder Room did not want me to leave for I had been good company. I did not litter or disgrace its beauty and grandeur for I respect such sacred places. After an hour of searching for the location of the exit, I stood in admiration and awe as I looked back on the treacherous but exhilarating terrain I had crossed. I pushed through all of the obstacles that were in my path so I could, in the near future, visit it once again. Maybe next time I will bring my own kids to share with them the unforgetful experience I once lived. I will teach them respect and honor so the Boulder Room will welcome them back with open arms to view its beauty and magnificence once again but next time with children of their own.
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