Beckoning

An eel pulsing with electricity glides and maneuvers through the belly of Wes, only wandering and watching for now; floating through the iridescent scope that Wes has granted his tenants. It moves by a symmetric motion of it's body, taught to do so by waves under the learned instruction of Wes. The eel cuts through the dark and murky water, fearfully watched by the suspended white particles that it pays no attention to. The filmed eyes miss much.
Wes wanders, too. He wonders. Under calm seas and moon lit sky he stares up through the heavens and contemplates his distant brother. Tumultuous thoughts dance within his body and Wes swims through them by restless surging energy. But his eyes are still- never do they move. Wes often churns his spirit in vain effort to reach the ocean floating beyond, maybe to speak to the ocean outside his boundaries. Tonight, he churns a new thought: he wants to leave. Earth has been a warm love, she has been the warmth at his belly and in his veins. Earth has given Wes the contours of his mind and therefore the sight to explore it - but Wes has no eyes for what is beyond. Wes wants to see the burning specks embedded in his brother- to see them close and to cradle them in his eyes. Wes....
"Who is my Brother?"


Suddenly, like the crack of dawn spit forth by lightning a voice intrudes into his dark breezy silence and beckons him with a single transcendent verb... misunderstood because Wes can't speak. Rocked by the soft thunder, Wes holds still to comprehend the light behind the now encroaching dusk. What was that?
What was that....