Tropical Leaves

The Emerald City

Have you been to the emerald city?



Bells hang from every leaf and ring out silently for all to hear. Beings of great wisdom and light move hither and thither, radiating their grace for all to receive.


Faerie lights bob and dance amongst the canopies, as faeries themselves play their frenetic games. There is water everywhere, some of it moving rapidly in gushing streams, and some of it quite lazy and languid. I have seen a number of waterfalls emerge directly from points high up on the trunks of redwoods, then go shimmering down to the ground far below and become one of the countless babbling streams which wend and carve their way across the forest floor, and under and over the many paths. Where they pass over the path their is generally a shallow canal cut through the road to accommodate the friendly stream, and I am told that these never overflow, even during times of great rain.


The faeries love to play in the streams, and are often swept away unless they anchor themselves somehow. It is only with herculean effort that they manage to claw their way back upstream and we can resume our conversation.


There are a great many krystals to be found everywhere in the emerald city. These grow magnificently at the sides of the path, and most especially at junctions of two or more paths. Personally, I am of the belief that they enjoy the energetic nexuses such junctions engender. The krystals grow in all colors, shapes, and sizes, and are rivaled for variety and abundance only by the flowers which seem to grow everywhere they can possibly manage. These flowers are exceptionally friendly, or perhaps exceptionally is the wrong word, because in truth every being in this delightful realm is exceedingly friendly, but the flowers are, if anything, even more friendly, and delight in calling out to passersby in their wondrously loving manner. Seldom have I ever felt so welcomed to a place as I did when I entered the emerald city and was instantly greeted by countless beaming flowers.


The birds too chatter at all times. They warble and chirp the most delightful songs, many of which recount their wondrous exploits, and feats of aerial audacity. To listen to their songs one would think that each and every one of them is a daredevil pilot of the highest caliber attainable, and in truth, I believe they all are.


The distant crash of the sea can be heard, even quite a ways inland. But do not be fooled: the acoustics of the forest lend the waves a far more impressive quality than they really embody in person. I have seen the sea here, and these waves are some of the easiest and most relaxed I have ever encountered, God bless them.


Why do they call it the emerald city? Is it due to the innumerable magnificent trees, who hold a great wisdom and are venerated here? No, although this is a fine guess, and it is certainly true that the most dominant color here, at least in the quarter of the city I have seen so far, is green, all shades of green.


But the reason it is called the emerald city is due to the fact that many of the structures here are composed of a radiant emerald krystal.



Quite apart from the many varied krystals which grow everywhere, the emerald variety has formed into constructs of all sorts, from bridges and aqueducts, to towers and minarets, to lofty halls and pagodas, and many more. These wondrous structures glow with an internal light, an emerald flame which casts a lovely glow on the surroundings, most especially beginning around twilight and into the night.


One thing I find to be fascinating about the emerald city is the following contradiction: as far as I can tell, the emerald city is quite sparsely populated. The humanoid beings are mostly few and far between, and at times not a single one of them is visible on the forest paths around me. At other times, however, several of them may be communing in close proximity, or one might materialize next to a gurgling fountain.


On the flip side, though the humanoids are rather sparse, there is no feeling of loneliness. Instead, there is absolute interconnection with the whole of the environment; each and every flower, stream, bird, krystal, plant, every emerald structure, the trees, the clouds, all are conscious and radiating pure unconditional love. I feel I am immersed in a sea of friends, and all are eager to communicate with me.


I enter one of the structures. This one appears to be a replica of the enormous surrounding redwoods, yet it is made entirely of emerald krystal. In the center of this hollow structure is a being, standing in the middle of a beautiful multicolored carpet in the pattern of a rainbow vortex. This being greets me with a stream of unconditional love of extremely high frequency, and I instantly feel euphoric. Looking around the space, I notice a great many apparatuses resting atop raised plinths and daises. I am unable to ascertain the exact function of these, or even if they possess utility of any kind, or are instead purely aesthetic works. I notice with delight that resplendent krystals of all shades seem to play an important role in each of these esoteric devices.


Now I feel ready to communicate with the being in the center. This being has been waiting patiently as I inspected the room, smiling at me all the while.


"Hello," the being beams to me telepathically. I respond in kind. I notice that this being appears to be wearing a beautiful turquoise robe, but only sometimes, for often a tangible form can hardly be identified, and instead the being appears as a great orb of white/golden light. They seem to become increasingly tangible as I communicate with them, however.


"We are M. It is most wonderful to meet you," communes the being. "We have been expecting you."


"How can you have known I was coming?" I ask, quite surprised, as I myself did not know I would be coming here until the moment I turned and entered through the entrance portal.


"From our perspective," says M, "When we are not being directly observed by some perceiving intelligence such as yourself, we do not hold form at all. Instead, we rest in the antimatter reality, at One with All That Is, and existing only as potential. In a linear sense, it was only when you entered this place and perceived us that we took on form. From our perspective, suddenly this emerald chamber appeared around us, and we knew we must have a visitor." Even as they hold form, M shifts in and out of corporeality, sometimes appearing only as light so bright that it is difficult to look at them directly.


"But what are you doing when you aren't here" I ask.


"My beloved friend, we are always 'here', that is, if anyone should ever enter this domicile they shall always find us as we appear now. But we understand your question. When we do not hold form, we are at One with the Oneness, in other words we are in total unity with Source, Creator, God, All That Is. In this there is no time, and no doing at all. Instead there is the eternal Now, the One Moment which contains Everything. We rest in this peace, bliss, love, completeness, and it is our desire to serve creation which calls us forth into matter. And so Now, how may we serve you?"


I feel very, very good in M's presence. They radiate a powerful field of unconditional love, and ever since I entered this structure I have been feeling progressively more relaxed, more in peace and bliss. I wonder if the only service M need give is their presence, which seems to be teaching me energetically without effort. Realizing this, I thank M and take my leave, emerging back out into the sparkling emerald city.


Outside feels like a whole different world, and in my time with M it has become evening, the sky becoming a deep purple with stars winking through here and there amongst the canopy.


I feel called by the distant crash of waves and begin to make my way in their direction. The paths are now illuminated by round orange lanterns that hang from posts, and from low hanging branches, or the sides of krystal structures. These lanterns brighten with joy as I pass, and it is a great delight to walk this deep forest path that leads to the sea. Accompanying me is a little stream that wends its way alongside the path, sometimes crossing beneath little bridges that are sometimes ornate and made of stone, and other times are little more than a few wooden planks.