A position changed. The Ark of Light. Codes of the New Republic. Peanut butter cookies.
It is a lonely night. A stormy night. The beast and I take sanctuary at the Ark; having parley with priestess Keval. Outside, one of our kinfolk moves through the Shadows; finding his way to the temple.
The Story is beautiful. I have been that being, moving through the distortions of Shadow. Unable to see their own value and in the medley of discontent. I have wandered through the reflections of a stormswept mind; suffered in the abyss. Drowned in the air. I remember being in such realms. As the night progresses; I come to see myself in a new archetype; more settled than I have been. As Fate would have it, it is Lady Keval and my Self that are ordained to be present for our brothers return through the Shadowlands.
As we wait for our ally to arrive, Keval mentions to me her feeling; that North and I both are learning about the Mothering, the Nurturing. She’s right. Such is the realmsign; that I move deeper into those territories of the Mythica. It is, for me; bright portent; for with each footstep the clarity and right purpose of my actions becomes clear.
Today, Dakota and I rested within the Falcon. It was so sweet. So very, very cozy. I am so very in love with this caravan. With the beautiful vibrations that she is made of. The years of love and tenderness, of intentional relationship and union between the Feminine and the Masculine that still reverberate from daka Shivoso’s ministrations into unity. Such things play out for me as watercolour; timbres and textures. Such is not an empty caravan, but a sanctified vessel; granted unto me in bright action by a blessed brother.
I feel at Home within her. Here, at the Ark temple on the outskirts of the Shire; she feels the perfect size, the perfect shape; adorned with the vibrations of the realms of relationship and tantra.
The connection with Keval is intense and meaningful. To have occurred here in the ministry of light is significant. Even moreso; the arrival of the Falcon and sanctuary within her environs.
North has been restless. I have never seen him in such a state. In the luminance of shared space with Keval; I find my aspect of clinical precision coming back into play; a mixture of discernment and nurturing and surrender. I can feel the herbal remedies working within his form, demanding a change in his chemistry; leaving no space for the unhealthy pattern.
I love the wind. The storms. The feeling of the deva-kami; the pure elemental essences; shaking and creaking the building. I shall sleep in the Falcon, tonight; bundled up and meditative; drinking in the aspects of change upon the sky.
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