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The Life of a Water Dragon, Part 1

  • picture from Pintrest

First of Advent – Second of Advent

This, the 13th year, of The SkrivKringlans Advent Calendar, 2024, I am following a different process. Still writing every day of the 21 days, but publishing on every advent.

Auspiciously enough Dec 1st is on the First of Advent as well as on the date of the New Moon this December. Something I took as a confirmation of this guidance to write differently instead of not writing at all due to the very turbulent circumstances in life at the moment.

The Life of A WaterDragon

Razor-sharp crystals of snow and ice danced around her face. The blizzard was so strong there was literally nothing to be seen, yet her feet felt every step through the cracking snow. Her nose picked up the scent of frozen pine and distant log fires from the valley below, her ears could easily distinguish by the song of the wind through which part of the cliff openings she was walking.

This is where she grew up. Where she had been trained for this part pf her life. Rolling down the mountain slopes in summer, through daisies and clover with all the other kids, sledding down the same faces in winter, even skiing down in teenage years.

She was not like the other kids though. During her first years of walking and talking she would head out the front door during the night, pushing it open with all her tiny weight, almost fall on the porch as the heavy wooden door swayed open, sit down on the rain deer skin at the edge, feet dangling over the small stair steps, looking up at the large star-filled sky. 

Watching her breath turn to mist she would sing. The sound created itself, she felt it stirring in the belly, tingling in the fingers as it worked its way up and out through her throat. She sang to Orion, the Big Dipper, Cassiopeia, The Seven Sisters, and they all sang back to her.

She felt so infinite and still, so full of the same life she felt in the trees, the moss, the creeks and the rivers.

The dragging of feet on in the hallway could be heard, the creaking of the door handle as it was pushed down, the sigh of dad as he’d just been woken up – again . She turned her head to greet his large green eyes adorned by eyebrows as bushy as the pine trees in spring.

“What are you doing up singing with the dragons again my litte pea?” he asked.

“Dad, they aren’t dragons. They’re fairy spirits dancing in silver and diamond dust”, she giggled as she corrected him. “You know the dragons don’t come out till June”.

Whoooosh! – The sound of the blizzard hitting The Northern Face brought her back to the here and now.

When was the last time she’d ever been this close to the descend down this face of the mountain? It must have been decades, or was it centuries, ago?

Never ever had she looked that deep down in to an abyss, that she knew. Life as she knew it then was over. She had peaked down in to the darkness, almost as velvet as the moonless sky above .The rock in her throat, the clenching in her stomach and the shattered space of her heart making it feel like she was being strangled from within while dangling alone in a universe devoid of colour.

The Northern Face had called her there, all the way to the edge of darkness. The tune that arose from her inside had been anything but a song. It was a shriek of eons of pain roaming the whole mountain side strong enough to create avalanches.

“Feel the ground you walk upon. Be the ground, the sky, the sense of every-thing. Be alive”, a voice from somewhere in the air between her and the edge  had sung.

“Be fully present in each and every moment”, it continued. “The love of Mary, the sacred heart of Jesus”.

There was a swooshing of moving air creating mist around her and a huge winged being landed next to her.

“I am WaterDragon and you just woke me up”.

The light through the blizzard was brighter than the white of the snow. How on earth was that possible? 

A pillar of light, like a great crystal wand, wide at the bottom, gently sloping inwards towards the heights until three smaller faces met like the top of a pyramid what seemed like at least a hundred meters up from where she stood manifested through the glimmering snow crystals.

The song swirling from the peak of the crystal pillar in a spiral downwards where of the chords she had heard back then.  

“The love of Mary. The sacred heart of Jesus”, she heard herself sing out.

“The Light of Christ, pink magenta dancing in crystal clearing”. She recognized the voice. Her. She WaterDragon.

“Where have you been all this time? Where have you been?”

“Inside Your Heart and in the air,
In Space and Time
Yes, everywhere.

In every breath you dear heart of mine.
In the here, there and everywhere.
There is nowhere I have not been,

Always.

In the music, in the song
In the cry of your heart,
In the joy of your dreams.

In, beside, behind, beyond, within, next to, above, below, around
Everywhere.
Always.
Everywhere.

There is nothing you see that I don’t see.
There is nothing you hear that I don’t hear.
There is nothing you feel that I don’t feel.
There is nothing you breathe that I don’t breathe.
There is nothing you are that I am not.

I am right Here.
EverywHere.

Always.”

Cassandra knew She WaterDragon was right. She had felt her all the time, yet she had missed her with her entire heart and soul for so long, so deeply. Under the surface of the misty mind entangled in the worldly She WaterDragon had always been there. Yet Cassandra had tuned her out, somehow she had tuned her out.

“Not important my child, not important”, the dragon gently moved a strand of hair out of the way over Cassandra’s eyes. The wind was still strong though the blizzard had slowed down.

“What are we to do, my Queen ? What are we to do my love?” Cassandra turned her face towards the dragon.

“We are to live my dear, we are to live. Nothing more, nothing less. And we are to share that in every moment we are here, with each and every one, every tree branch, every squirrel , every sunrise, sunset, blizzard, wave, starlight, person, animal, mineral, planet, stardust particle, every seaside, mountainside, avalanche, every headlight staring deer, singing infant, owl, man, woman, child, foul, puppy, seed, plant, every atom and molecule , with everything and everyone that lives and breathes out there. Fully, unapologetically, alive.”

The dragon flew up and landed on the first pine tree she saw. Small pine trees this high up in the mountains.

“Look here. Look around you. What is there to not celebrate? To not let the Light of Christ, the Love of Mary in to? Or to not see them in? And how about Orion? Cassiopeia? Our dear Canis Major and Minor? Atlas? All the others? The Light and The Love are there too, are them too. Heck, we are all Li-Lo born and Li-Lo infused”.

“Li-Lo?” , Cassandra laughed. “Have we created artist names for The Light of Christ and The Love of Mary?”

“Have we?”, She WaterDragon sent the question back. 

Three nights and six days had passed. How that is possible I cannot tell you without getting entangled in splendid detail. So let’s leave that shall we?

Cassandra found herself at the bottom of the mountain. Her home mountain. At the space where the deep waters of the lakes and fjords led in to the vast, vast ocean, in to the depths of where the soul deep diving whales and orca’s danced every new season.

She WaterDragon had motioned her to come join at the edge of the lake, where the huge, blue calcite meteorite served like a crown jewel styled bridge between the mountain side and the fields of green of the lush village of Angelside. 

They sat there, Cassandra watching her breath turn to mist as she tilted her head up towards the stars, She WaterDragon making circles in the water with her long tail to the rhythm of her own song.

“Be fully present in each and every moment”, Cassandra sang. “It has never been any easier than this. Never more difficult than right now. When you stand at the bank of the river, becoming the lake, only to know you are moving in to the sea, of which you have always been, always will be. Being fully present when you know all you can do is disintegrate here under the stars to move forward. To be born. To re-birth.

“Shed my child, shed”, SheDragon’s calm voice. “ Shed and receive. The love of Mary, the sacred heart of Jesus. This December.”

SheDragon continued “these words are just symbols. These pictures are just symbols. Even the connotations are just symbols. The love of Mary, the eternal love of the eternal mother. She, Earth, Space, Womb of the Divine, everywhere and nowhere, everything and nothing, Creation, readiness, discipline, sacredness.

The sacred heart of Jesus. It, he, Love so humongous it leaves no one outside of it, yet everyone are inside it, all encompassing, omnipresent guidance from within, powerful alignment from within with without, as above so below, togetherness.”

“Soul birthing life, life birthing soul. The old releasing the new, the new calling in the old, the union of all the refined arts of living, being, loving and worshipping being embraced fully in each and every moment. Present in every moment. That is what the Life of a WaterDragon is about. That is what I am here to bring you back into my precious pearl of loving wisdom. That. And the importance of play.”

  • Cecilia Götherström 2024
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Earth & Space , 1st of December, Door 1

“Everyone heals in their own way. How you heal is up to you. Up to you to find, to feel, to sense, to belong to. Yes, to belong to. There is nothing to figure out, it is all in the heart, in the Earth, held by the sky and Space. That which you belong to. That which is also your healing.”

She changed her seat. Got up. Twirled the thread between her fingers. Spun it around her hands.

“The gift of healing is the gift of seeing”, she continued. Her eyes were wide and warm. Her breath travelled far in the cold air filling the cottage.

“Magic is a choice. Seeing is choice. Living is a choice. What you choose is what you see. The more often you consciously choose, seeing itself chooses you. Just don’t ponder too much on that last part. Go out and choose!”

She swung her arms open towards the door, motioning me to get ready to leave.

“Remember, there is no horizon. Remember, the horizon is the horizon”

Author: Cecilia Götherström, Pejuta Wakinyazi

by

Snoozing, snoring blessing

Snoozing, snoring blessing.
On a pile of blankets
in the corner.
Sweetness sleeping.

Curled up
like in a den.

Comfort in heart.
Comfort in soul.
Even through loss
she has found some type of peace.
Being herself.

No compromise.

Only fullness.
Only love.
Only stamina.
Only Elsa.

- Cecilia Götherström, Jan 8th 2021
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 21. Dec 21st.

Dawn.

One star.

Half moon.

Samantha was standing at the ridge of the space which lead in to what the Everything the wolf called Nothingness. He said it was a mirror of himself. That only through Nothing can you find Everything. That only Everything can be Nothing. And Nothing be Everything.

She held her golden dragon magic knitted Listeners gloves clad palms open to the sky. Listened through her palms to the Mountains of Stillness and Silence. To their song.

Vayu, her HeartKingdom Sameness SoulStar, stood next to her, his grey and white winter fur grown really thick. He was no wolf pup any more. He was a wolf teen.

“You said you would write songs if you really listened with all filters gone”, his wolfness spoke. “Off you go my dear, what magic spell would release your first song in to this void of Allness, Nothingness and Everythingness?”

She looked with loving eyes at the wolf. This bundle of joy, wisdom and power. She turned around. Marcus, Grey and Storulven joined her there at the ridge. Barry did the same.

There they were, two humans, three wolves, one polar bear, facing the void of the Dawn. 

Flanked on both sides and behind by the entire pack. Everything placed a little step in front of the rest of them.

Josephiel took to the skies. Mama D waited. Said it was not her time to adorn the skies with her dragoness yet, that Josephiel was to float the first tune.

It sounded like a mix of happy violins, bagpipes, wolf howls and the singing of the Northern Lights. The wind whistled. The snow furled around them. In a dance.

Looking up Samantha saw The Great Bear. It seemed to nod at Barry, who let out a “top of the morning old pal”, as he nodded back to his star ancestor.

A single white feather danced through space, landed in front of Marcus. 

Samantha inhaled.

“Feather white,

Feather bright,

Share with me,

Your Sacred Light”.

A light show began on the heavens. A dance of glitter, of colours, against the velvety sky mixed with the glow of the dawning sunlight. All intermingled, intermixed, intertwined.

A song never heard before came out of the two mountain tops, one granite with deep, soothing, grounding, homefeeling tunes. One moonstone with soft, enticing, heartlightning, sacredly wrapped jewelclad tunes. Together they mixed. Like Shiva and Shakti. Like Yin and Yang. Like Creator and Creation.

“Sssssssshhhhhhhhh……shhhhhhhhh……shhhhhhhhhh”

The sound of whispers in the void, in the skies, in the space surrounding them all.

“Listen. Listen well.” Vayu said. “The dreams are arriving. The dreams are speaking. Listen. Listen. Listen. All will be revealed.”

“How can all be revealed if we don´t have all seven instructions yet?” Marcus wondered.

“You do, my child”, Mama D took to the skies, filled it up with her gorgeous silverwhitegrey dragon energy. “You all do. You unlocked them on your way here. Storulven, shall we?”

The large white wolf stepped forward, placed himself in the center of all of them.

“My dear Lightwarriors. My dear strong pack. We are on our journey to find the eternal pieces. We are very close. We all need to take our personal responsibility for our path, and we all need to walk in connection with each other at the same time. The instructions on how to get there, as these dreams are arriving to embrace us, we may now practice from this day forward. All seven. Vayu?”

Vayu The Wind Whispering Wolf sang in to the Stillness, in to all their hearts;

“The Seven Sacred Secret Instructions are calling us, one after the other, here they are, like a string of pearls, like a string of bright shining Stars;

Concious Dawn.

Life inside Life.

Sacred Listening.

Choose that heart of yours.

Let your journey find you.

Find your Star where she resides.

Sacred Fierceness. “

The lightshow sacred geometry hologram in the sky had ended. A bright light shone. On large, bright

Star.

The Beginning.

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 21st 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 20. Dec 20th.

“Stars shining right above you. Night breezes seem to whisper “I love you”. Birds singing in the full of pine needles tree. Dream a little dream of me, humptidumptidumtidum…..”

Barry was singing his way ascending the last piece of the slope ending at the plateau between the two mountain peaks.

“Not sure those are the true lyrics”, Marcus commented. “Think it should be a sycamore tree”.

“Come on! You can’t expect a polar bear to have any clue about what a sycamore tree is!” Barry shook his large head at Marcus.

The wind picked up. It came out of nowhere. All of a sudden there was a huge whirlwind of feathers, large and small, silvery, white, grey, golden, being blown around in a ferocious dance. 

Storulven and Grey signalled the whole pack to a halt.

“The Whispers don’t take the singing jokes lightly today”, Grey spoke. “Usually The Whispers have the greatest sense of humour as they are totally egoless. It is just that right now we are really in The Stillness and Silence territory and here singing has the greatest of magnanimous purposes”.

“What is he talking about?”, Marcus asked the wolf next to him. A gangly little red and white male called Everything.

“Dreams”, Everything replied. “You see we are all made of dreams, sung in to existence by The Whispers”.

Storulven continued;

“Vayu The Wind Whispering Wolf is waiting for us. He’s the keeper of Dreams. The everlasting pieces. His time is now. So is all of ours. Right now. We are here to sing all that Sacred Fierceness in to existence. First the dreams need to be dreamed. I believe Samantha and Josephiel begun the knitting of that some days ago. We all will put our own spice in the mix. Josephiel The Cloud Shrouding Dragon and Snow will filligraphically project them through the sacred geometry in the skies between the two peaks of Moonstone and Granite. Then The Whispers will speak. No clue what they will say. What they will sing. We will be the chorus. We will all Be.”

“Let’s get inside the woods before we are blown off the slope by all these feathers”, Grey turned his head to point in his wolfy way towards the thin line of pine trees between them and the open glen behind.

“Star Seeker, Star Seeker, find your Star, find your Light. Star Seeker, Star Seeker find your Light, find your Star.” 

Was that the feather-filled wind singing Marcus wondered?

“Star Seeker, Star Seeker, feet on the Earth, Heart in The Heavens, Star Seeker, find your Star where she resides”.

Yes, the wind was singing.

  • Cecilia Götherström, Dec 20th 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 15. Dec 15th

Stillness. 

It was still.

Silence.

The Sound of Silence.

You could hear it.

You could feel it.

In your bones.

In your soul.

Such peace. Such lightness. Such a sense of being carried, held, embraced.

It had arrived with the golden-dust-sparkle-carriage. A flowing cloud of gold dragons. Many, many, much smaller than Josephiel and Mama D. They were everywhere, yet nowhere. 

They were all around in the cave, on the slope at the opening where Samantha and Vayu were sitting, on top of the ridge above the cave – yet it felt like they were not really taking up any space. They were space.

“This is the joy, the magic, the gold of Stillness and Silence”, Vayu sighed.

“Splendid, isn’t it?” Josephiel added. “Realizing the space we all inhabit is filled with the magic sparkle dust of these golden dragons, every cell and non-cell encircled, this magic gold is what is All. We see them as dragons right now, as dragon energy is the one energy which can carry magic, peace, serenity, truth – in other words Life inside Life – in this dimension, and quite a few other dimensions too for that matter.”

“Then why are dragons being slain in some of the old stories and myths, portrayed as threats and dangers to humans?” Samantha asked. “All of you who I have met are just gorgeous, powerful in a sacred-life-energy-carrying way. I don´t get it.”

“There was a time when magic, connection and knowing the secrets became considered wrong my dear. Dragons were the first to be banished from the magic of the myths. The myths were changed in to legends. Along the line wolves were added to the long list of sacred connections removed from you humans. More legends added. And the rest is history.”

“It is time to bring the true myths back then”, Samantha said resolute.

“They are still here.” Vayu replied. “All you need to do is listen. Exactly what you were doing. Did you notice you saw more dragons as you listen to the Sound of Stillness and Silence?”

“I did”, Samantha said.

She slid back in to Silence. Here in the Mountain of Stillness and Silence you felt it getting enlarged. You became the Stillness and Silence. You became Every Thing. Every One. No Thing and No One at the same time. It was like being lost without being lost, an amazing sense of being Home.

As she looked inside her heart she saw a huge troop of wolves pulsing through the trees in the deep snow. Led by someone who looked like Star, just grey and larger. Where were they heading?

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 15th 2020.

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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 14. Dec 14th.

Marcus was floating in that space between dreaming and waking. He felt like a feather swirling through space, gently landing on a soft, soft deep- sleep – breathing wolf belly. He felt the warmth, he heard the breath, he was one with that fuzzy, thick winter fur there in his featherness for a while.

“Oh, if I could grasp this and put it in the symphony”, a thought drifted through his mind. He woke up.

“Nooooo, I want to go baaaaaack”, he stretched out under the duvet.

“The grasping brought you back”, Barry’s voice from outside the bedroom window. “Just lean in to that tune again, drift on the first octave, let yourself be featherly carried and you can go back. Through any music.”

Barry had taken the habit of sleeping under Marcus bedroom window. That way they could both breathe in symphony he’d said. Marcus quite often got the feeling that the polar bear took finishing writing this symphony even more serious than he himself did.

“OK”, Marcus said. “I am awake already. Might as well get up and get out. I am done with this onyxing. I can hear the moonstones calling.”

“That can only mean one thing”, Barry’s voice now came from the front door. “There is just one way to journey to the place where we meet all the moonstones. Make sure to pack more than lunch my dear Marcus.”

Marcus made his staple breakfast of oats, apricots, bananas and nuts for himself, a full side of smoked salmon with some dried lingonberries for Barry. Sat down out on the porch with the bear as they both watched a full show of Northern Lights making its way through and around the Milky Way. It was 3 minutes past 3 in the morning. No moon.

“New Moon today”, Marcus said. “I guess there could not really be a better time to start the journey to the moonstones. I mean, we finished quite some chapters yesterday, both the movements for the symphony and the heavy chapters for the book”.

“You are so right my dear WolfHearted Human of the Wilderness”, Barry replied. “I can sense that our guides are not very far from here. They heard the cry of readiness in your dream as you landed and started on their last leg this way already.”

Marcus had just finished making what Barry had called “not just a lunch package”, closed his backpack, got his “good walking shoes” out as he called them, staff in hand – no clue why, but he felt he’d needed what his neighbour Gina called “the witching wizard’s staff” for this walk. It was a pretty long staff which Star had found in the river when she was just a little puppy. She’d pulled it out of the water with all her might and dragged it up to the house. Put it in front of his feet. He smiled at the memory as he tied it to the backpack.

A howl. Quiet. Then a choir of howls. Through the treeline at the back of the house he could see countless eyes shining in the dark. One large, grey wolf stood out front. The rest of the pack waited in the trees.

“Our guides are here”, Barry waved at Marcus with his head and then gestured towards the family of greys.

  • Cecilia Götherström, Dec 14th 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 13. December 13th.

Tea. Dark chocolate. Glitter and sparkle against a velvety background shining through the opening of this gianormous cave.

Samantha almost had to pinch herself.

Awaiting Lucia-morning here. Inside the first of the Mountains of Stillness caves, with the Queen of Dragon Queens Mama D herself. It was bigger than any dream she’d ever had for herself.

“Is that really true? Like in the heart of your heart of hearts true?” Vayu asked as he curled up next to Samantha.

“What do you mean “really true”?”, Samantha replied.

“You know, we quite often think we wish the most splendid things and experiences for ourselves, involving places, things, beings, moments, even those as superbous as this one right now. Yet they are more focused on others. Like this Lucia – morning, like Mama D. They are both true energies of Love and Fierceness. Power. Both of those energies are living from their heart of hearts. If you would truly live from the heart of hearts right now in this magic, sacred moment, what would you do? What would the tea and chocolate of your soul be so to speak in this very moment?”

“I would pick up an instrument, pen and paper. I would write. I would sing.” Samantha heard herself blurting out without hesitation or thought. 

“I would sing this moment. I would sing the stars. I would sing the light. I would sing darkness. I would sing healing. I would sing love. I would sing home. And for Marcus somewhere down there in the valley I would sing Star.”

“See, sister!”, Vayu’s eyes glistened. They had already transformed from their puppy blue to dark night sky blue. Soon they would change to yellow as he reached his fully grown self. “That is what you should be doing. Sing all that. Be the music, be the holy reverence resting inside of you. With Fierceness. Sacred Fierceness.”

“Sacred Fierceness?” Samantha looked like she had an epiphany. “I’ve heard that phrase before. In whispers. Some days ago! At the beginning of our hike I think? Did you hear them too?”

“It’s what my mother always spoke about.” Vayu said. “Though she was only with us for our 16 first weeks, I can still hear her whispering “Sacred Fierceness” from her way wandering Home.”

“Home?” Samantha wondered. “Wasn’t home with you and your siblings?”

“She was called Home quite suddenly, to the Home with a capital H, very soon after we’d arrived. Her task is about five dimension from here I believe. I am walking our task here, yet we are always connected. Sacred Fierceness is that bond. To your music and your songwriting too. Wow, look!”

Outside a light-carriage was moving across the starry skies, getting closer and closer. Fairies and winged beings lighting the way. It was heading right towards the cave opening.

  • Cecilia Götherström, December 13th 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 12. Dec 12th

“Onyx. Onyx is missing. Or not really missing. It is there, the volume just needs to be turned up a bit. Then a bit more. Then maybe a bit more again. Like toning down the rose quartz for now, just making space for some more onyx you know.” Barry’s words – or instructions – travelled in through the wide open front door.

Marcus had been sitting at the grand piano since 5 am. Playing one piece of the symphony over and over again. Something was missing since the second movement, he just could not put his spirit on it.

“Onyx?” Marcus asked.

Barry was really too large to be in the house. He had placed himself outdoors, in front of the porch – had he been on the porch it surely would break from his weight – , having Marcus leaving the door open so that they could have a “clear, straight channel” as they both called it. It was vital that the connection was a straight, wide line. 

Like a bridge. 

Again.

“Yes, Onyx. The colour of darkness. Of pitch black. Of all possibilities possible”, Barry replied.

“Or the colour of death…”, Marcus thought to himself.

“I heard that!”, Barry said. “Isn’t death also a moment, an opening, of all possibilities? You know, some of my friends, the cormorants, say that “humans are so afraid of death that it prevents them from living”. Turn that volume up eh, so that you can really listen to it!”

“Listen to what?”, Marcus noticed a slight irritation in his own voice. “Listen to death? To darkness?”

“A little bit more to the left my dear Marcus. Listen to the emotion attached to those words .”

“Give in to fear?”, Marcus felt perplexed.

“It is not a fight Marcus. It is not about winning, about staying on top of or about giving in or not . There is no right or wrong here. There is only listening. And then turn up the volume of the Onyx, of the listening. Make that listening sacred.”

“Sacred Listening”, Marcus let the words roll over his tongue and soar in his consciousness. “Sacred Listening, Sacred Home….Onyx….Hmmmm…”

Quiet.

He took a deep breath. Looked out through the window. Got up. Walked through the front door. Sat down on the stairs leading off the porch, right in front of Barry.

“Barry, do you know there is a song with the title “What’s Love Got To Do With It”? Maybe it’s time to use the phrase “What’s Fear Got To Do With It?”

“Now you’re getting somewhere Marcus! What’s fear got to do with it! Reply to that one more often! Spin that one in to the symphony. That’s how you get deeper inside life, how we will eventually get Home.”

Onyx.

OK, then.

  • Cecilia Götherström, Dec 12th 2020.
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Kringlans Kalender 2020. Sacred. Part 11. Dec 11th

Another evening on the path following the pawsteps of the little bundle of joy & life force Vayu The Whispering Wolf. They were being guided by Josephiel the Cloud Shrouding White Dragon floating in the air just above them through the valley,  heading towards the Mountain of Stillness and Silence.

Josphiel was of the opinion that wading through deep snow was no dragon business, taking to the wild blue yonder was.

Vayu had hidden a laugh within a yawn as he’d said “Let him believe he’s the one guiding us. There ain’t no better guide in this dimension than this very nose right here”.

Samantha was really enjoying these nightly hikes. They were usually on the move until just before midnight. Then they’d either find or build a shelter. For her, both Josephiel and Vayu were very clear about every time.

“For that somewhat frozen little human”, they would joke daily.

This evening they were getting close to their last hike among the trees. Shelter would probably be just above the treeline.

The glittering snow crystals reflected the Milky Way, or was it the other way around?

“Everything is a reflection”, Vayu said. “All the beauty you see in the world, all the things you reject, criticize or judge, they are all part of your perception reflecting back at you. That is why The Whispers are so powerful. Why you want them on your side. The Whispers are closer to Truth than the words you cover them with when you speak and think loud thoughts covering any possibility to perceive the most perceivable of them all. The Still Whispers of Your Soul. Only in stillness can you hear them. The Whispers.”

“Are you saying that this gorgeousness of diamondy glittery silver lives inside of me too?”, Samantha asked.

“Yes! And do you know what more lives inside of you?… 

Vayu went dead quiet.

“Come on, are you going to tell me?” 

Vayu did not move. He did not even flinch. 

Samantha looked up in the direction his eyes stared. Holy moly…. Was that an avalanche? There was no sound, so there could not be, right?

The sparkly cloud of glittery-moon-reflecting-snow-star-dust rushing down the mountain slope was the size of a jumbo jet.  As the diamond-dust evaporated something took shape where the sparkle settled.

“Mum!”, Josephiel twirled in the air, somersaulted towards them.

Right in front of Samantha and Vayu, the largest, grey-sparkling dragon anyone could possibly imagine.

“Enchanted”, she exhaled. “Mama D welcomes you all.”

  • Cecilia Götherström , December 11th 2020.