Frederick Kwesi Great Agboletey

Glasgow, Scotland

Strange, you mentioned that …

Somewhere around, deep in these quiet woods, a strange structure rises in a perfect circle of vast dimensions

A circular structure of enormous proportions, set amidst these lush northern conifers and pines is rumoured 

A building so perfectly round that it is a marvel of architecture perfectly rendered

Set in exact middle of a vast forest of conifers and pines, 

It is said, it is a place that is profoundly resonant of timeless mysteries

Its unending corridors echoing cold silence of vast universe beyond stretching skies above

It had by some dint of universal laws of physics hitherto unknown, happened upon almost by chance, in its structuring

Captured an essence of timeless universality in its perfect curvature

When we think of walls and buildings we reflect on corners, sharp angles and linear perfection

In this round structure of perfect circle, it is said an element of eternity was captured and remains within its walls

Strange figures walk through and within these unending lanes of no beginnings and no ends-

I remember a man with his arms behind his back

He seemed a bit agitated because he kept pacing up and down

With his arms folded behind noble curvature of his matured man’s gentle sloping back

He paced with intensity all his own, reflecting on things known only to him

Initially he seemed agitated, yet with passing time, one realizes that he was at ease in his intensity

Pacing with an intent to no apparent ends

He just paced, lost in a world all his own, to and fro, up and down in a perfect cadence –

Those lost in mystery of profound knowledge reminiscence of a castle

Beyond watery edge of great ocean, a mighty structure of astonishing elegance

Its floors a perfect pattern of black and white tiles matched to perfection

Its red walls rise in it is great hall to staggering heights, set on black pillars with golden bases

Its immense grandeur is said to be awe inspiring

Before its entry is a spread of curving staircase, a hundred and fifty steps spiraling into a door so mighty

It seems as though it were an entry into a stellar world where stars and diamond clad beauties

Ascend in quiet dignity, in floating steps to grand balls held therein –

When two strong forces in mighty opposition for a moment collide

Be it willing or by a chance happenstance that casts them together

It is said a force of opposing elements cast in unwilling embrace sets of a spiral

Of counter opposing elements of constituent composition of such strength unheralded

Their spin causes a disintegration of spiraling elements swirling in unwilling repel and attraction

Causing a spin that creates disintegration momentarily and a fusing together to create a new reality spun into existence

It rises in a mighty spiral, rising, swirling and its force of creation overpowers everything else in its presence

Absorbing, unraveling by its force of rejection and attraction working in contraposition of perfection in basic states

Till a new universe of unconditional reveals itself totally independent of its origins, a world of new realities self defining-

It is said of an ageing professor of one who regained youth every spring

Of one who had long desired key of source of youth

Ethereal spring sought by Portuguese and Spanish adventurers of yore

Lost in mystical jungles far from known territories seeking mythical El Dorado of life

In a corner of his magisterial office set at end of a long corridor there is an ancient door

A timeless door hanging on a wall

Through this door of timeless origin, at which he looks with a glee, meaningful smile on his well tended face

Is a way, a door way to another world,

Every time a curious person asks about that door, he smilingly responds, “You may open it if you want”

No one who has passed though those doors has returned to tell tale of strangeness beyond that door on a wall-

There is one who has traveled greatly

Such a one speaks of a world beyond that has once known greatness, yet lies in ruins presently

Its ancient greatness is a cluster of vast spread of ruins under a carpet of lush green

Might of past greatness set amidst a vast tropical river land now unknown

Its ancient prophecies speak of a leader to come forth and rebuilt its tottering and fallen walls

Rebuilding its past glories

He traveled over vast distances, through impenetrable jungle, over precipitous mountain passes

To bring a tale of improbable, yet, how seducing to intellect are such vain glories dissipated-

Those who know tell of a parlor in a forgotten corner of Macau

A red lined inner cavern of an old structure, whose walls are draped in dyed, dried flesh

Of souls lost amidst dreamy wisps of smoldering smoke of past fires

When foolish youth and abandoned maturity led them to a dreamy world of strangeness

Here upon these Oolong pillows set in a row on a red carpeted floor are layers of souls in melancholy of induced forgetfulness

Dreaming dreams of a reality incomprehensible to uninitiated of a world whose reality

Is far beyond grasp yet refusing to let go of those who enter therein

Leave your wasting body behind in physical world non-sustaining, beyond is a haven of hopeless abandon

Where your physical mind creates a phantom reality beguilingly entrancing-

On a lonely path, far in northern Sweden it is whispered, a lonely soul walks

In early hours of each morning he roams amidst misty silence of a sleeping town, in a gentle stroll

A quiet gentlemanly figure, tall and erect, his smile is genial

He floats in gentle ease locked in a place that captured his heart

A presence lingers long after his last walk down these somnolent paths

One meets him every now and then dissipating into dewy mist with a slight cough

An illusion of a mind unfocused albeit disturbingly true-

Of men, it is spoken by those elderly men who speak measured words in tremulous tones

Decrepit old men, fading, in oversize velvet knickers, in shrinking bodies,

Old men who mumble pedantic words of loaded meaning speaking only in parables

In hamlets along pristine shores of a lagoon yet to be discovered

Of whole communities beneath these placid waters,

They talk of islands in its midst, swept with clear broom marks of housekeeping with not a single human soul in sight,

When men have become so old and forgetful of reality, one wonder when truth and imagination take leave and mix-

Far beneath these dark blue waters lies a sunken castle

In perfect rendition of immense measures it lays, a wonder beneath waters dark in their depths

It is a mighty structure of many great halls and many dungeons

Ten thousands black birds dive into in its watery courts and dine

Its captives are bound in chains that rattle in forgotten depths

On clear nights their ribald croaks are heard over quite waters and villagers quack with primordial fear...

There was a man who fell between waters above worlds and sank

through clear blue skies to a world beneath skies ocean blue

He walked quite lanes with white houses and pebbled front huts set in clean rows

A sloe eyed doe of unnatural beauty led him down wide streets

Showing him a mighty industrial city set in this surreal world

Railways and atomic trains

When his tours was over he was driven through a highway in vast oceans to shores of a city in distant land-

Through marshlands, by rivers, across vast swamps where great waters open far beyond sight

Is a place, sublime, dwelling of shadows in shades

Water world is a reality for those who dwell therein, every now and then, earth men wandering

Have found a strange world opening before them, ehm!

A world where music suffuses every thing

Whose bleached shores are lined with great houses, forlorn castles and quite homesteads

Beautiful beyond compare are courtyards with fountains

High walled mansions filled with watery light

Grand vistas of great plains, green and peaceful

Yet, how quiet this world is, a sadness sublime holds it spell bound…

It is strange indeed how many things we do not see

Yet how many things are out there that we ought to see, yet we lack sight for

Just because a thing is veiled from one’s sight does not invalidate its existence,

What one does not know, has yet to experience, is what sets intrepid souls to seek beyond obvious pale

It is just another mystery waiting to be discovered

These hidden worlds

Of desolate places

Set amidst that vast wilderness out there–

It is said of a man who saw the face of God, he was awestruck

He tried to convey glory beyond comprehension, words never quite carried across his impression,

“On the tenth heaven, which is called Aravoth, I saw the appearance of the Lord’s face,

Like iron made to glow in fire, and brought out, emitting sparks and it burns.

Thus in a moment of eternity I saw the Lord’s face, but the Lord’s face is ineffable,

Marvellous and very awe inspiring, and very, very terrible.

And who am I to tell of the Lord’s unspeakable being, -

And, of his very wonderful face? I have seen the Lord’s eyes,

Shining like the sun’s rays and filling the eyes of man with awe.

I have seen the Lord’s right hand filling heaven as he helped me.

I have seen the Lord’s limitless and perfect compass, which has no end.

I heard the words of the Lord, like great thunder incessantly with hurling of clouds.”

Enoch was borne by Angels to dwell in mighty presence of living God who favoured him

What kind of a man is this? –