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Trials of the Gods
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Serenity
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PostPosted: Sun Jul 08, 2012 12:07 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

Pulsing.
Unceasing pulsing.
They must have brought me to t’vilah.


Slowly I force my weary eyes open, and find my gaze drawn through the opening in the roof of t’vilah towards the sky. My ragged breathing quiets as I listen to the dirge meant to imitate the sound of thousands of ephemeral wings stirring the air. At my side Annie holds my hand, occasionally brushing a wayward strand of my hair back from my sweating brow; her occasional words of the Chrysalis and the Transformed mostly fading outside of my awareness.

The maidens scoop the holy mud and dab it in esoteric symbols upon my flesh. As I look at these symbols, they glisten with their wetness and draw my attention ever deeper. My breathing slowly stills as the symbols begin to move to my sight. One, crudely drawn in the shape of Serenity’s totem, takes flight off of my now empty shell and I find my awareness suddenly hovering with it above my grieving clan mates. The dragonfly darts through the roof of t’vilah, and I soar outside with it.

…and am not above the cliffs along the plains where I expect to be.

A portal?
All these years of looking at that illuminating opening, and I could not discern it is a portal?
How much else have I been blind to?


If I still had eyes, they would widen in amazement. I now hover inside another cavern; dimensions soaring beyond my immediate comprehension. The best description I can offer is to say I hovered inside the sanctuary of a dragon’s lair, the walls lined with the fluttering wings of countless dragonflies keeping the air inside moving and fresh. But there is no treasure trove strewn about; no sense of secrecy or concealment. My awareness only feels love; love flowing freely and purely.

Slowly, one of the wall clinging dragonflies approaches me, and my sense of the size of this place is abruptly turned upside down. That is not a dragonfly approaching; and she is not approaching slowly! The distance from the wall makes the winged teen’s approach seem slow, but her speed surely would outpace the most fleet-footed jaguar! I can only assume the other “dragonflies” along the wall are also winged humans. When she is nearly upon me, she stops suddenly; her movements darting as sharply as a dragonfly.

“Follow me. Serenity awaits.”

At my side, my escort from t’vilah morphs in to another winged human; his wings fluttering as he assures me, “You will not be alone. The Transformed serve the Golden One, and we are charged with seeing you safely to her.” With that he flies up to the teen hovering in front of me and hand in hand, they lead me onward.

This way. That way. This cavern curves on forever

We soar and soar around countless twists and turns; through endless chambers and alcoves. I keep looking for signs of a trove somewhere; surely treasures galore are stashed somewhere in this demesne. But no; instead along the floor of the cavern is a river, sparkling with a luminescence of pure essences. The river flows in the opposite direction in which we soar; perhaps I will see its source.

My escorts stop; again I am reminded of the darting of dragonflies and how similarly they move. And yet their wings are more like those of mythical dragons rather than the ephemeral wings of dragonflies. Ahead is yet another chamber, where a golden light glows softly from within. The winged teens part to either side of me and gesture me to continue on, but I need not their encouragement. The light reaches out to me; fills me; beckons me in. The glow from the chamber and the luminescence from the river seeping out from the chamber merge, disabling me from being able to see within. Yet I do not fear; I know that all I have ever sought awaits me within.

Gliding further and further in to the light, a melodious voice suddenly greets me, “Welcome my child. I am the way to your journey’s end. You have traveled long and well. Now come through me to the melding of All, and take your place back among The Supreme Forces.”

Amazing!
Awesome!
Indescribable!


I hesitate, unsure of my worthiness to proceed. But the massive golden wings flutter, beckoning me to enter their caress. Slowly I move forward, the celestial sounds rising from the river’s source ringing through my being and the light not only surrounding and filling me, but allowing me to become the Light itself. By the time I feel Serenity’s caress, I am more Light and Sound playing upon her wings than her caress embracing me. All that I was; All that I am; All that I will ever be merges through The Golden One with the Supreme Forces. She is the Gateway and has provided me the way Home.
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cedar
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PostPosted: Sun Jul 08, 2012 8:14 am    Post subject: Reply with quote

As one, the Approval was heard.
Green color shot across the emptiness.
Aurora, viscous, serpentine.
Forms flowed back and forth, fluid and bright;
shining against the total, complete, darkness.
Across dimensions,
finally reaching a world.

Drawn from their path, the stream across the Verse,
the forms are pulled into a forge.
Broken in the heat and pressure,
gravity which tears and creates,
the forms are stamped into shapes.

Grandson startled awake. His nightshirt was covered in sweat, damp and sticking to his skin. Clumps of his bangs were blocking parts of his gorgeous Tree from view. Absentmindedly he parted his hair as he gazed longingly at the Tree. How he wished...his thought was ended as he drifted back to sleep.

[Grandfather's voice]

The world was created piece by piece,
each Approved in proper turn and order.
As creation was put in it's place,
the world became a mosaic,
each glass emphasizing it's neighbor.

Rising from this world,
was the First Tree.
Streaming, the River of Souls,
torn from the sky by the First Tree,
Terrible and wondrous;
the River poured into the Tree.
All the shapes of our world sprung forth.
Animals, plants and Beings alike.
These were easy prey to Evil forces.
Ravenous, poisonous and murdering.

Sprouting,
the First Cedar escaped the Forge,
and sprang forth fully formed,
like a God of the dream-worlds.
From this divine incarnation
we are descended.
The birthplace of our tribe,
the fate of our souls when we die.
Each of the beings,
can return to the River,
if they only trust in the Cedar,
the chink in the armour
of the First Tree.
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Orlando
The Pack


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PostPosted: Thu Jul 12, 2012 5:13 pm    Post subject: Reply with quote

“They had followed the river of souls through the prarie, over the hills and into the mountains. There, they stopped at Hound’s Dance – the face rock of Orlando. The Maiden stopped and looked around her. The world was fabulous! Lovely and fresh and new. The sky was crowned with white clouds and the grass and flowers and trees rooted into the earth. Orlando watched the Maiden’s awe and laughed gaily and he began their journey, smoothing his hand over Hounds’ Dance as he passed.

“Down the mountain they climbed, following the river, Orlando’s lead sure and strong. The Maiden heard the noises of mountain beneath her feet. She smelled the scent of the souls as they swam through the river.

“At the bottom of the mountain, they came upon a great, ancient dogwood, in full and eternal bloom. At this point of the river wound its way into the base of the tree and disappeared from the Maiden’s sight. The dogwood blossoms fell into the river and danced along its curves, twirling as the water carried them further, bearing drops of water that bejeweled their petals and sparkled in the dappled sunlight.

“Orlando padded toward the tree where a small opening swallowed the river. Orlando jumped over the river to the other side of the bank, inside the tree trunk. He turned around and looked at the Maiden, waiting for her to join him.

“She jumped over the river, into the tree and found a great cavern beneath her. The river trickled down into the cavern over rocks and roots. The warm, rich loam smell of the earth filled her nose, rotten and decaying. Here, the dogwood blossoms took flight, becoming bright with their own internal luminescence and filling the air with the sweetness of their fragrance.

“The heady scents filling her nose gave the Maiden to a giddiness she had never felt. Orlando began to descend into the cavern. The Maiden followed, expecting darkness but the blossoms merrily danced alongside of her, lighting her way. The river took on an opaque quality and began to shine and sparkle as the brightest opal.

“The decent ended and there the Maiden saw an endless cave, bright and warm, kept safe by the roots of the great tree. Here, the blossoms played. Here, those souls who joined Orlando dreamed living dreams. Here, the river of souls slowed it’s course and became calm. This was the center of the universe. The Maiden looked up into the tree trunk and could see stars and suns among the branches and leaves. The cavern walls were not walls at all but other worlds filled with other people, other clans, other dens.

And in the middle of it all stood Orlando, watching over his den, protective and strong. And the very cavern became his body. The river, his blood. The earth, his fur. His eyes were the sun.

As the Maiden watched, Orlando bent down and took a drink from the river. Some souls reached up and touched his snout. Others felt the rough lick of his tongue. The contact with Orlando sent those souls into throes of happiness and exaltation. Still others, Orlando clutched by the scruff of their necks and drew them from the river, to spend eternity dreaming their living dreams in serenity and security.”

The priest continued his writing.

“It is here that I first felt the touch of Orlando. You see, we all swim in the river of souls, waiting for Orlando to drink from it and touch us with his grace. And when it is our time to climb out, Orlando will pull us from the water. There we will join him in the Cavern of Life”

The priest put down his quill and straightened his back with a loud crack and a sigh. He picked up the shaker and sprinkled the lettering with sand to dry the ink. He blew it off and left the parchment on his writing desk t to dry. He pushed himself away from his desk and stood up, blowing out his lamp and went to stand at his window and smoke his pipe.

He stood quietly for a moment, the acrid smoke curling around his face. He imagined the world of Orlando, smiled to himself, and turned to his bed to go to sleep.
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