glen

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, 14th of December, Door 14

Photo: Pintrest/Samsung

“So many cues, yet it seems you don’t know how to start. Pretty silly actually as how you start is not important. Nothing could matter less. The only thing that matters is that you start”, she says in her matter of fact way,  Do-ris the deer

“It is important to experience joy”, the radio speaks in between.

“And now you jump in to fear and pressure, realizing that no, you probably have not allowed yourself to experience joy the past months, you have filled it all up with the so called important things and joy was not on that list. The only thing you feel now is that you are not even living up to allowing yourself to feel joy. Down in the basement the elevator goes. Oh, was it already in the basement? Hmmmmm…. can it maybe move sideways down there? Bog itself deeper in the mud of pressure and anxiety? No? Not possible? Well, that’s at least awesome!”

Up head the ravens and crows are having their usual dusk discussions. Who is sitting where, in what tree, why, why not, goodnight and all that.

Do-ris is looking out at me from across  the snow filled glen.

“Let your wings unfold, shake them, let them drop around you like a cape filled with the warm holding of all the angelic light beings surrounding you. The entire choir of Sacred Fierceness. It is time to see that only darkness can hold the light, the stars in the sky. And the closer to the light, the lighter the darkness. The darker the darkness, the more intense the light.”

I stand up, reach my arms out and up, swirl, turn, bow.

“Angel wings of open fire. Fill me with my heart’s desire. Numbness leaves this heart of mine. Song of Joy, thy will be done.”

Snowflakes.

Author: Cecilia Götherström / Pejuta Wakinyazi