Voyages of Plato
There is a place where the dust whispers stories from a world where giants once walked. There is a place where songs lifted stone from the sands and where water kissed tattoo’s into granite and pulled stories from the bones of abandoned gods. There is a land where ancient lovers thrashed in fire and brimstone, where carnelian and lotus flowers bloomed and burst from the rocks in what is now a barren land. There is a place where angels and demons fought and the clash of these titans wrote the destiny of forgotten races beyond anything we can describe as time. There is a place where women gave birth to sons with the heads of beasts and where girls, more bird than babe, sank their claws into the Fertile Crescent. There is a place where the dog-faced gods carve destiny into the DNA of the rulers of long forgotten races. There is a place where now plastic floods the river and rubbish blows in the wind. Where the whips of horse riders and the racket of cars and the squeals of tires and the belching of motor engines all compete with the hidden song of the sleeping Demi-gods. It is here where we will make our way down the rive nile. It is here where we will leave behind the stories, the histories, the rumors and speculations, and step fully into the mystic. To dance through the dust and wander into the wonder. Day after day, temples after temple, we will make our way to where the water is pure, and on this 7 day journey shed the weakness and doubt of the modern cage and step into a more savage, more sacred state of mind, and put on our cosmic armor ready to go to battle into the brave new age.
