A little piece of Eden Saturday Morning...............Diary or an occult resolution assistant
Saturday 00:15
"You came as promised" The blue cloaked figure said. I knew the voice it was familiar and feminine but Melody it was not. The hands let go and I quickly composed myself to stand unaided. Blue moved her arms to her cowl and pulled it back. She should have dramatically flung it back and been reviled under a flash of lightning or ripped the cloth away and cackled hysterically as a wolf howled in the distance. None of that happened and anticlimactically a slightly sweaty round face with hair stuck to her forehead came out with minor difficulty.
"Well hello Valentine." Said Mary with a smile. "You managed to find us here then, we were worried you had forgotten where to come."
Other girls were pulling back their coverings and laughed at my confusion and dismay.
One held out a slightly used hanky (do people still carry such things? well obviously as I now had one in my hand) I didn't care about the grubby stains as wiping my mouth soiled it further and I guessed the owner wouldn't want it back.
An arid desert would have been abundant with moisture compared to my throat and I barely uttered a sound, intentions of asking what, why or huh? was not at this time possible but my grasping grunt was easily deciphered by Mary.
"The meeting tonight, you were invited. A little late, we would have given you a lift if you asked for one, Claire parks up where the dogger's do. Its a little strange when you first walk past them but at least the car is safe from thieves and kids, too many witnesses for that."
The silver body on the floor had sat up and now she had removed her hood I could see Ana happily waving at me from behind Mary.
"You look confused Valentine." Mary placed a hand on my shoulder and led me round to see everyone more clearly. "This is our little group, is saying good-bye to one of our sisters and we've invited you here to take her place as one of the coven. We can teach you the powers of the universe and how to harness them within your body and use it to control the world around you. The men don't understand how only us women can feel the strength and energy from Mother Earth and Sister Moon or the pain they feel when the destructive hand of Man touches her."
Mary walked back behind the alter and opened a large leather bound book that was sat on an ornate dais. The pages were hand written mixing English and unfamiliar scripts and the way Mary lovingly caressed the pages with the brush of her fingertips I could tell it was a prized and valued possession.
"In here." She gestured to the book with one hand and the other placed over her heart, "Lies the answers to all your questions and the path you will walk to fulfil everything the fates have written for you. One you have to learn to use, the other you learn from and together you will understand yourself and your place in this world."
The girls backed off to their places in the circle and started to sing. The tune carried on the wind and seemed to spin around as more voices were added each with their own part with raised and lowered and caused a carrousel of sound. The hairs on the back of my neck raised and I felt the pull of the moon and the Earth and static cracked from my hair and finger nails, it was electric.
The circle was spread out at even intervals with one space clearly absent. The song went round and each voice lifted it to another dimension like another instrument being added to an every growing orchestra and I felt the crackle of power being generated but when it came to the empty space the song fell flat, as if the very fabric of the music was unravelling into threads that were scattered to the wind.
"You see, we need a voice to carry on the anthem when Ana leaves us this dawn. Do you have the inner strength to take her place and become one with the coven?" Mary was holding the still sitting Ana's hand. Ana herself had tears in her eyes falling in little rivers down her cheeks; How could you even think about leaving this? I thought about screaming at her, this was friendship, this was life, this was the family I have always dreamt of right here and right now with a Mother and Sisters; Are you mad? I didn't, I couldn't find my voice through excitement and nerves. Luckily I didn't have to orate as Mary continued.
"I won't draw this out or paint you a picture to hide what we are, to hide what you are. We are witches; wiccan if you prefer but I prefer Witch. You yourself are one for we can all see it shining within you but you could be brighter and shine like a star and lead others behind you."
My mind started to swim with half dreams of witchcraft, deeds and acts that were not my own but of legend swimming through the swirling soup before my mind's eye. The vocals began again and Mary lighted incense in small dishes around the alter, grey smoke soon turned to blue and it wafted straight up until the breeze caught it and swirled it into clouds of azure haze.
"I don't know what I am, I feel for things but I don't understand anything. I think I see things and hear things and there are so much strange in this world." I hesitated to say more, I didn't want to give anything away but Mary was paying so much attention to me, I wanted to please her, so say the right things and to be allowed to learn from her, to learn more about witchcraft and the power it can give me.
Witchcraft is like a river, it has a small and often hidden source somewhere far off which trickles through the countryside of your mind. Everybody has it, this trickling and delicate flow but in almost every case drought of a closed mind or chocking weeds of unfulfilled potential reduce the stream to nought and that's is as far as it gets and it dries up and disappears. In others the stream meanders through the soul twisting and diverting around the stones and pebbles that dam the flow and restrict it to almost nothing; these are the people who see images passing by at windows in the corner of their eye but when they look there is no-one around and suffer from déjà vu. If the stream is strong enough to break past the blockades that build up with modern education, thoughtless TV and dullard of everyday life. If imagination and questioning is allowed to foster within a soul, then the stream builds and gathers speed and these are the people who may subconsciously hear the voices of others within them helping and guiding their moves and are universally known as being lucky or knowledgeable in subject they may never have learnt.
When the stream becomes a river if the person is of the right (or some would say wrong) mind then they believe they can communicate with the 'other-side' and listen to spirits of loved ones departed; or if they are unaware they are tormented by visions they do not want nor can they remove from their dreams.
Witches once trained, or on rare occasions with enough natural talent, can sail upon the river of themselves and of others, seeing within themselves to their strength and inside companions to understand their deepest desires and blackest wants; of course they can see what makes them tick, know how to speak to them to get the best of them and to bend them though this to their will.
Good Doctors and nurses tap into the waters and it aids their interactions with the sick. Teachers can foster talent in their class and get A's from children others have written off as D's.
The river can go deeper. In old texts legends of the craft who can levitate on broomsticks (with definitely no sexual connotations, they were bantered about my American tattle rags to spread discord amongst the population and belittle the fine and noble craft and to get a laugh out of their small minded view of witches) or command beasts of the ground and raptors of the air it is described they have rapids within them generating energy and flow.
There are also stories of Witches, so powerful it corrupts them and they go over the waterfall not knowing where the flow is going only knowing the raw power of the cascading fluids and draw upon the chaos and turmoil of the plunge, smashing their humanity onto the harsh rocks laying unseen submerged under the fury of the surface.
I knew I had something, I had read books, kindled sparks out of embers and through what sense I do not know, hear music generated by the absence of aura and get a really wigged out feeling that turned my intestines into writhing eels; Its not always accurate but I wanted to be part of something greater than just me and something everyone can be part of but not everyone is.
I walked forward into the blue haze and breathed deeply of the heavily scented air. Mary, my Mary, the Mother I have craved, joined her voice to the harmony of the chant. Out of the smoke figures formed, outlines of people and animals skipping and playing and appearing gleeful in their activities. I reached out towards them and they danced merrily laughing as their ethereal bodies broke and drifted around my fingers before merging back to continue their journey into the ether.
I danced after them, these sprites and spirits causing my fears and anxieties to fall from me as if they for all these years were a heavy constricting over coat that confined my movements, withdrew the sensation of light and heat from reaching my skin and muffled my hearing and limited my sight through a think hood pulled close; but no more, I was free of any restrictions and I was me.
The smoke dancers turned and waltzed through my head, I saw their dreams and their playfulness. They took me by the hand and I danced with them there in the woods, through the trees, up into the clouds and out into the night and above it all, looking down onto the world that they were giving me as a play thing; the would lead me to anywhere I wished for and give me my hearts desire.
"You look confused Valentine." Mary placed a hand on my shoulder and led me round to see everyone more clearly. "This is our little group, is saying good-bye to one of our sisters and we've invited you here to take her place as one of the coven. We can teach you the powers of the universe and how to harness them within your body and use it to control the world around you. The men don't understand how only us women can feel the strength and energy from Mother Earth and Sister Moon or the pain they feel when the destructive hand of Man touches her."
Mary walked back behind the alter and opened a large leather bound book that was sat on an ornate dais. The pages were hand written mixing English and unfamiliar scripts and the way Mary lovingly caressed the pages with the brush of her fingertips I could tell it was a prized and valued possession.
"In here." She gestured to the book with one hand and the other placed over her heart, "Lies the answers to all your questions and the path you will walk to fulfil everything the fates have written for you. One you have to learn to use, the other you learn from and together you will understand yourself and your place in this world."
The girls backed off to their places in the circle and started to sing. The tune carried on the wind and seemed to spin around as more voices were added each with their own part with raised and lowered and caused a carrousel of sound. The hairs on the back of my neck raised and I felt the pull of the moon and the Earth and static cracked from my hair and finger nails, it was electric.
The circle was spread out at even intervals with one space clearly absent. The song went round and each voice lifted it to another dimension like another instrument being added to an every growing orchestra and I felt the crackle of power being generated but when it came to the empty space the song fell flat, as if the very fabric of the music was unravelling into threads that were scattered to the wind.
"You see, we need a voice to carry on the anthem when Ana leaves us this dawn. Do you have the inner strength to take her place and become one with the coven?" Mary was holding the still sitting Ana's hand. Ana herself had tears in her eyes falling in little rivers down her cheeks; How could you even think about leaving this? I thought about screaming at her, this was friendship, this was life, this was the family I have always dreamt of right here and right now with a Mother and Sisters; Are you mad? I didn't, I couldn't find my voice through excitement and nerves. Luckily I didn't have to orate as Mary continued.
"I won't draw this out or paint you a picture to hide what we are, to hide what you are. We are witches; wiccan if you prefer but I prefer Witch. You yourself are one for we can all see it shining within you but you could be brighter and shine like a star and lead others behind you."
My mind started to swim with half dreams of witchcraft, deeds and acts that were not my own but of legend swimming through the swirling soup before my mind's eye. The vocals began again and Mary lighted incense in small dishes around the alter, grey smoke soon turned to blue and it wafted straight up until the breeze caught it and swirled it into clouds of azure haze.
"I don't know what I am, I feel for things but I don't understand anything. I think I see things and hear things and there are so much strange in this world." I hesitated to say more, I didn't want to give anything away but Mary was paying so much attention to me, I wanted to please her, so say the right things and to be allowed to learn from her, to learn more about witchcraft and the power it can give me.
Witchcraft is like a river, it has a small and often hidden source somewhere far off which trickles through the countryside of your mind. Everybody has it, this trickling and delicate flow but in almost every case drought of a closed mind or chocking weeds of unfulfilled potential reduce the stream to nought and that's is as far as it gets and it dries up and disappears. In others the stream meanders through the soul twisting and diverting around the stones and pebbles that dam the flow and restrict it to almost nothing; these are the people who see images passing by at windows in the corner of their eye but when they look there is no-one around and suffer from déjà vu. If the stream is strong enough to break past the blockades that build up with modern education, thoughtless TV and dullard of everyday life. If imagination and questioning is allowed to foster within a soul, then the stream builds and gathers speed and these are the people who may subconsciously hear the voices of others within them helping and guiding their moves and are universally known as being lucky or knowledgeable in subject they may never have learnt.
When the stream becomes a river if the person is of the right (or some would say wrong) mind then they believe they can communicate with the 'other-side' and listen to spirits of loved ones departed; or if they are unaware they are tormented by visions they do not want nor can they remove from their dreams.
Witches once trained, or on rare occasions with enough natural talent, can sail upon the river of themselves and of others, seeing within themselves to their strength and inside companions to understand their deepest desires and blackest wants; of course they can see what makes them tick, know how to speak to them to get the best of them and to bend them though this to their will.
Good Doctors and nurses tap into the waters and it aids their interactions with the sick. Teachers can foster talent in their class and get A's from children others have written off as D's.
The river can go deeper. In old texts legends of the craft who can levitate on broomsticks (with definitely no sexual connotations, they were bantered about my American tattle rags to spread discord amongst the population and belittle the fine and noble craft and to get a laugh out of their small minded view of witches) or command beasts of the ground and raptors of the air it is described they have rapids within them generating energy and flow.
There are also stories of Witches, so powerful it corrupts them and they go over the waterfall not knowing where the flow is going only knowing the raw power of the cascading fluids and draw upon the chaos and turmoil of the plunge, smashing their humanity onto the harsh rocks laying unseen submerged under the fury of the surface.
I knew I had something, I had read books, kindled sparks out of embers and through what sense I do not know, hear music generated by the absence of aura and get a really wigged out feeling that turned my intestines into writhing eels; Its not always accurate but I wanted to be part of something greater than just me and something everyone can be part of but not everyone is.
I walked forward into the blue haze and breathed deeply of the heavily scented air. Mary, my Mary, the Mother I have craved, joined her voice to the harmony of the chant. Out of the smoke figures formed, outlines of people and animals skipping and playing and appearing gleeful in their activities. I reached out towards them and they danced merrily laughing as their ethereal bodies broke and drifted around my fingers before merging back to continue their journey into the ether.
I danced after them, these sprites and spirits causing my fears and anxieties to fall from me as if they for all these years were a heavy constricting over coat that confined my movements, withdrew the sensation of light and heat from reaching my skin and muffled my hearing and limited my sight through a think hood pulled close; but no more, I was free of any restrictions and I was me.
The smoke dancers turned and waltzed through my head, I saw their dreams and their playfulness. They took me by the hand and I danced with them there in the woods, through the trees, up into the clouds and out into the night and above it all, looking down onto the world that they were giving me as a play thing; the would lead me to anywhere I wished for and give me my hearts desire.
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