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The Mountain People
Daylight breaks through the gate and a bright light shine intensely on my face from a distance. I wasn’t sure what was going on, but I fold one arm and held on tightly to the other arm. I knew it was a spiritual encounter and I could not falter so I stood there quietly with the light shining all over me. I stare boldly into it until it slowly fades away and disappeared in the skies above me. What on earth was that? Heavens was holding on to my new frock and sending a signal to the earth. This is not surreal, it happens for real, when I was living in Virginia, I have had several of these encounters, whether I was hanging out in the bushy parks or driving on the streets in the dark, this light is always with me and showing up in front of me; it is leading me towards my destiny. The morning creeps back into its shell and the clouds starts circling the bend changing its shapes and color and the mountain behind it appears higher. Suddenly some people appeared on top of the mountain with books, pencils and pens, pots, dishes and spoon and a pair of female shoes. They were inviting me to come but I was nowhere within their reach. They looked diligently at me and smile and disappeared beyond the mountain. The mountain people occupy a village beyond the sea, the mountain people have a message for thee, they make their living on the hill carving portraits out of fermented stones and live a simple life through daily sacrifice. They hardly go to the grocery store, because they have everything galore; they survive from the food that they plant close to the shores, greens and peaches, lettuce and yam, tomato and carrots, cabbage and corn they have just about everything to go on living in the tropics. A big poultry farm sits at the foot of the mountain, and a pig pen with a thousand pigs faces the sun, and a vast landscape with cows, sheep and goats running about and feeding together. The mountain people survive from mother earth; the mountain people know what life is about; everyday their children play in the dirt and their children are happy and have strong teeth and healthy bodies; sometimes they are unkempt but if you look closely their bodies are healthy. The mountain people work every day, the mountain people never go astray; they work hard to maintain the clan, and wake up just before the break of dawn to feed the cattle and milk the cows to make yogurt and cheese, their market is big, and they have lots of income coming in. The sheep are running about, and the children began to shout; everyone has their work cut out for them and the symbol in the sky is their only guide, they know when it is going to rain and they know when to reap the crops, the children don’t go to school but the know the golden rules. The mountain people live inside the rocks and make a dynasty out of the crops. They have lots of fine jewelry, and ancient cutlery and everything that they own have been passed on to them by an unknown generation. The mountain people have no church, but they have daily meditation in the dirt and a special day when the entire community come together to have fun and play. They play all type of traditional music, and sometimes get into a dancing fit, with fine costume and body painting they stand on self-made stage and entertain the mountain audience with merriment from the East to appease the deity. Culture mixed with traditions and liquor generated from the vine and prunes fermented to make tasty wine. The mountain people have everything, and they are not in need of anything. My friend spends a year with them and when she came back her body looks like she was living in paradise; her body was firm, and it was like a great light was radiating out of her soul. Her countenance changed and she was never the same. The mountain people live a life of their own. The mountain people are old and when you have no place to roam, the mountain people will take you into their home.
Copyright © 2024 Christine Phillips. All Rights Reserved

Book: Shattered Sighs