elves

by

Earth & Space, 18th of December, Door 18

Photo: Pintrest

Three are the days
three are the elves

Gold is the colour
silver the thread

Raindeers
eleven

Granite
the wisdom

The trees seem to fall down. Yet they are not. They are buried in deep, deep snow. Dragons dance above like garlands of stars.

It is seven days since they left the Glen, ahead of the morning star.

Up and up and up they went. Through dim top valleys, raging ravines and chest high mountain birch brushes. Over the tops of the Three Wishes. Down the Dark Valley of Hidden Wisdom. Back up the Mountain of Doom.

After the last bend they had all expected to see something entirely different than what was born in front of their eyes up there on the Diamond Step. As they turned that last bend they found themselves where they had only heard about in legends. Right at the “eye” of the Ursa Major . Alioth and Merak pointing the way to the path to Polaris.

“Polaris”, Rosie sighed. “Home”

Alba could feel the word ringing in her heart, in some strong, strange type of harmony. What was that? How could a star so far away yet so close by feel like home? How could this desolate place where their feet were placed feel like home?

“Because it is not desolate my dear Alba”, Rosie said. “Look at all the magic. Look up!”

Magic spun
through the wisdom
of choice
of voice
of being

Gold
Silver
and
Granite

Take what is
yours
Leave
the rest
behind

The song of the elves, the dragons and reindeer versifying the scenery of snow, trees and stars. Are they creating it as they are singing? At least it feels like that to Alba.

“They are their own creation, all around them is their own creation, they are all what we – or you humans – are learning that you are dear Alba”, Rosie chuckled. “To take responsibility of and now truly be your own creation. That is why  Polaris, these mountains, the wilderness feels like home. Because that is what you are and hence you create it and it creates you and so on, love creates what it loves – and hates creates what it hates, which is the other side of the medal in the field of duality – , love recognises it or actually recognises itself and more is created. This is your dream. Where you live and I live, in consciousness in this moment. That is why we are here together. Right here, right now. Let’s get to know more about our fellow beings here in this place!”

Soft, gentle bells swirling through the air. Snowflakes embracing the air.

Snowflakes.

Author : Cecilia Götherström / Pejuta Wakinyazi

by

Earth & Space, 13th of December, Door 13

Photo: Pintrest

On the darkest day
of the darkest month
the light of the
new moon
reaches out from inside

Lucia is here
to light
to lead
us through

the coming
twenty-four
nights
of transformation

Alba and Rosie had reached the High Glen. From up there it was dark, dark, dark . 
Below in the valley there was movement. Small lights as the forest elves danced their way through the icy fog. Candles being lit in the houses as people woke up to the scent of freshly baked saffronebuns. A gentle breeze of harmonic hymns travelled through the air. The mountain elves were journeying down the mountain in large numbers, looking like a huge glowworm swirling its way descending through the snowy fields. Nissemor and her little ones were cracking hazelnuts and walnuts in front of the barn next to the church. You could hear the sound echoing through the slow dawn.

The largest silver and gold dragon ever seen from this Glen approached from the direction of the morning star.

Author: Cecilia Götherström / Pejuta Wakinayzi