Sien
In a time that cannot be placed, in a world that has evolved beyond our imagination, there is a place called Sien.
Sien is where the sick go to heal and where the weak go to find strength. There is no night or day, and the sky is the clearest mountain blue. The people of Sien have no names and no histories, and they have skin of beautiful bright colours. They live as one, welcoming those who seek them out and hiding from those who hunt them. It is rumored that the people of Sien live eternal.
They are wise with knowledge that spans a million lifetimes. They speak no words. In their actions they communicate for words only serve to confuse. The only sound they make is when they raise their voices in song when the pale white moon appears in the blue blue sky.
Outside of Sien, people dream of Sien. Deep in their sleep after an exhausting day, when their mind is free to roam and escape the tedium of routine and desire, their deepest mind's eye sees the colourful people of Sien who need no identities, who share, who love and who are truly free. Only in their deepest sleep do the outside people hear the steady, unending beat of the Sien drum, their hearts palpitating to Sien's heart. In these dreams, they are all one people and the secrets to their lives are revealed behind closed eyelids in colours and sounds and feelings that rush and flow like a fast river. And when the outside people wake, they are a little healed. Life is a little brighter, at least for a moment.
The people of Sien need not sleep, for they do not need dreams. They are our dreams.
Sien is where the sick go to heal and where the weak go to find strength. There is no night or day, and the sky is the clearest mountain blue. The people of Sien have no names and no histories, and they have skin of beautiful bright colours. They live as one, welcoming those who seek them out and hiding from those who hunt them. It is rumored that the people of Sien live eternal.
They are wise with knowledge that spans a million lifetimes. They speak no words. In their actions they communicate for words only serve to confuse. The only sound they make is when they raise their voices in song when the pale white moon appears in the blue blue sky.
Outside of Sien, people dream of Sien. Deep in their sleep after an exhausting day, when their mind is free to roam and escape the tedium of routine and desire, their deepest mind's eye sees the colourful people of Sien who need no identities, who share, who love and who are truly free. Only in their deepest sleep do the outside people hear the steady, unending beat of the Sien drum, their hearts palpitating to Sien's heart. In these dreams, they are all one people and the secrets to their lives are revealed behind closed eyelids in colours and sounds and feelings that rush and flow like a fast river. And when the outside people wake, they are a little healed. Life is a little brighter, at least for a moment.
The people of Sien need not sleep, for they do not need dreams. They are our dreams.
posted by min_o at
11:41 AM
7 Comments:
I wonder if Einstein dreamed of the Sien, or if you've been reading too much Frank Herbert... again.
Thank you for a beautiful, inspiring story!
"You can say I'm a dreamer... but I'm not the only one!"
...funny how everyone covers that song, isn't it? Like, you're such a Wikkid Lil Grrl Jasmin.
:P
I dream of you 'falling for attention' at break dancing tonite...haha
Have fun! Can't wait to see the new bruises to go with the stories.
u know it wouldn't suck so much if ppl DID give me some attention for falling... but no they kinda ignore me cuz i'm geek
Sounds like a plot for the new Cirque du Soleil.
. . . the post about Sien, not the break dancing thing.
Sien du Soleil!
Brilliant.
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