Axis Mundi crossroad dance.

In the middle of the night I awaken, consumed by fear, my vision is blurred by sleep, all around me are moving shapes of differing variances, darkness and light interplaying. My breath catches in my throat as I try to calm myself down. I have no idea where I am, the ground beneath me is cold, and it gives a bit. I sit up, my vision finally clearing and I see that I am in a field, the moon hangs above, sickly and yellow looking, and a slight breeze murmurs through bringing in whispers from places I don't know. I cannot tell how large the field is, but I do know that it is surrounded by a dark wooded hills; I can make out the shapes of swaying pines covering these hills, which seem impossibly high. I stand up and see that I am naked, the moon playing wierd shadows across my body, I start to head for the center of the field, walking through brambles, which tear at my legs, In the center of the field is a pool; it is solid black, but at the same time it seems to shimmer and flash a muted silver, It is highly reflective. I look into the pool and I see my face reflected, but it keeps changing, it becomes first an old man, then a child, then a woman, then something else, it grins at me, and suddenly a burst of wind pushes me from behind into the pool. The water is freezing and the bottom is slick with lichen and I fall further into it, all of a sudden the bottom is gone and I am sinking, falling in, as the water closes over my head, lights flash all around, and a drum beat starts thumping all around me. Consciousness starts to narrow as a sharp pounding pain fills my head. I go out.

I am not sure how long I am out but when I wake up, I am sitting on a cool marble bench. The bench sits next to an empty fountain, and in the center of the fountain there is a statue of a woman with four faces, each looking in a different direction. One face is enraged, one is laughing, one seems to be crying and the other seems to be in the thralls of orgasm. The fountain is surrounded by a large circular clearing with a huge, intricate mosaic of a spiral, and extending in every possible direction there are pathways that go as far as the eyes can see. The moon above is full and bright, lending a uniform brightness to everything. Sitting on the bench next to me is a woman wearing a fine but tattered dress, it is deep purple, and there is white lace at her throat and wrists, She is wearing a hat with a veil that covers her eyes and she is swigging from a bottle of rum. She leans over and whispers in my ear, words which havent been uttered for thousands of years and suddenly I know where I am at and who I am. I am at the crossroads in the center of reality, where yes and no, positive and negative, and light and dark become one. Suddenly out of the mouths of the statue, blood starts to flow, I am afraid and very aroused. The woman leans over and bites my bottom lip, drawing blood and points down a certain path. I stand up and start to run, as I do so, shadowy shapes form behind me, and I hear snarling and the sound of many feet. I see that the road ahead is crossed by a white veil, I leap through it and I am in my bed, safe, but in my heart of hearts I know, I remember the words she spoke to me, and I know that the path to the crossroads is as close as my own breath. Exhausted I descend into a dreamless sleep.