The sky was turquoise blue with wispy clouds splashed in swirls like flowers. The clouds looked like spiral galaxies with tendrils curled out like fern fronds. We were congregated amidst a large colonnade.
     In the middle of the plaza, the sage stood upon a pedestal gazing up at the brilliant blue sky, his short white ash beard and alabaster face, bathed in morning light.  He wore a buttoned white linen shirt, which was the color of Easter lilies. His face was illuminated in rapture by the bright solar shine. With each sacred breath, I drank in libations of the crisp mountain air.
     I gazed across the hills at the clouds. The ceremony was almost complete, as I felt the ecstasy of trance sweep through my mind. The sky grew dark emerald and the whorl of clouds sparkled in exquisite patterns, with red and yellow dots of light, like celestial Christmas lights. I wavered, dipping in and out of the night sea of visions. All creation, the birds, trees, and mountains harmonized in the song of life, as joy filled me heart.
     I emerged back into the daylight world, gazing across the pavilion. Women were gathered like dark moths, covered in pitch-black dresses, their faces hidden by veils. They stood as still as trees on a windless day, quietly facing the east, as the sun rose higher in its passage across the sky.  The temple was awash in silence, as priests robed in their vestments gazed on from the rim, steadfastly gripping their pastoral staffs. Sadness washed through me like a winter mist. Clouds covered the sun, casting an umbra over the flock of pilgrims.  Eternity stretched out like an endless river. In the twilight hush, we waited.