Spelunking @ Sinks & Rises
There's a cave we loved to explore and camp in quite bit in the mountains of Jackson County, KY. It has an hour glass shaped entrance with a winding creek running through it. We'd set up camp inside the by the creek and our fire smoke would drift up out of a hole toward the starry sky.
We called this place 'Sinks and Rises' because the ebb and flow of the creek water would raise and lower in cycles. Sometimes up, sometimes down. A deep pool of water graced the outer entrance of this cave surrounded by cliffs which a rare daring soul may have ventured to jump off of on occasion, trusting the icy cold water of that bottomless basin to protect and embrace them rather than to rudely break their body.
We had cliffs and water falls to jump from, but this sacred place was not one of them. The sharp edge of these cliffs we respected without out tempting fate. There were rumors of death and tragedy here, though we played at the banks and basked in surreal majestic beauty all the same.
The entrance, or exit, depending on how the water was sinking and rising at any given time, was shaped like an hour glass or as a hippy female torso. From the outside looking inward, this entrance was perceived as . . . something curvy feminine and mysterious, beckoning to us with her dark unknowns.
Nobody entered through her sacred passage, only the water had this privilege. Humans and animals hiked down through a hole from above and there we found a great room with stone seats, smooth and aged for us to sit, and a fire pit to create a special space and ritual for when night fell.
From the inside looking out of her vast curvaceous waterway, there appeared hue of holy light with hint of sky and green and sun that reflected on the stones and water provoking such an ache in our hearts that we'd soak up this gift until the image was properly tattooed on our souls.
Thick forest of trees, gnarly and vine covered and bursting with greenery, lush vegetation and the smell of musky rich earth greeted us on route to this cave. Any moment a dinosaur may peer at us from around a rock as back in time we traveled toward our hollow haven.
The sound of a cave creek is like the womb of mother earth with echoing liquid drops and gurgling babbled patterns of rhythm and pulsating gushes. Every so often the splash of something solid hitting water or the deep scraping sound of rock on rock as it moves and glides.
Running water of the cave creek became magnified in nighttime, as darkness set in and our crackling fire became embers, fingers relaxing on our drums to find warmth within sleeping bags.
We'd lie on the cave floor and stare up at dancing patterns of moving flame on rock ceiling and walls, to make out faces of aliens and angels, demons and elves ever accompanied by this stereo surround sound of moving water.
The cave creek wove music through our hearts as we slept, sometimes carrying us deeper into the womb on a flow of dreams. In sleep our hearts kept rhythm with this lullaby of mother earths' symphonic, creative spontaneous mix of rock and water, ageless soul and smooth glow, it continues still, to course through the veins of our souls.
Arrow heads and spear heads were not an uncommon find on the floor of the cave creek, often stumbled upon while wading through it. Yes, we would step right into the water in jeans and tennis shoes and explore deeper inside her, walking sometimes until we found another exit or entrance a few miles from where we began.
Trust is the emotion which comes to mind when wading through waist high cave water in pitch darkness, save a flashlight beam to help guide the way. Each slow moving water filled footstep a new moment of trust and adventure, this is how the spearhead was found, by stepping on it.
Of course there were spirits there with us. Of course there's no doubt. Ancient ageless observing life energies aware and accepting of us as we were of them mingled there with us at fires and as we slept. This I know.
At dusk one eve I sat on the cliffs with friends as my partner, a drummer musician, went inside the cave a ways and sat on a rock. There he began a meditative Om, a humming solid one toned hypnotic note that slides and glides through the air in easy rhythmic repetition until a trance like state is induced. We all sat quietly and allowed his deep voice in the cave to carry us to a calm and peaceful place inside ourselves.
Suddenly another voice, deep and powerful, thick and solid, began to accompany his Om from within the cave. As far as solid human bodies, there was no other person in the cave with him.
The three of us sat wordless and listening to this spiritual duo. After a while the Om's ceased and my partner exited the cave, face relaxed and content, aware of the duet he'd sung with the unseen friend, just as we were.
He'd felt no fear, only an aware and gentle presence there with him on the rock, in total darkness and beyond sight of the breathtakingly magnificent ancient entrance of sinks and rises as her water ebbed and flowed.