Sunday, January 18, 2009

Between his hooves

Monday January 12, 2009:

A chill shadow shakes my body from top to toe. I can’t breathe. Someone is rubbing my left hand, talking soothingly, words which bubble and dance chaotically in a mind that will not understand what they are saying. All I know is that it is so close now … no way to avoid it, no turning back.

“Come air”, I say behind my silent voice, “come to me from that place beyond the sky, and above the clouds on the other side of the wind … come with understanding, calm and tranquillity … for I am so scared.”

Behind my closed eyelids a fire dances. I imagine the heart of the leaping flames, like the core of the life giving sun … ”fire … transformer... come!” the voice that is no voice says as the flames curl in my belly.

My blood snakes like the river across the round world that is my body. Whirlpools thunder in my ears. “Enfold and embrace me, carry me home” says the non voice, chanting song-like now.

And in all that is my flesh and blood, my bones and muscles I am here now, not in pain but fearing pain. From deep within my body I call “rocks and mountains, forest, planes and valleys, be here in your certainty!”

I imagine a circle drawn around me, turn it above and below me, feel myself in a protective sphere and call for Mama Bear to come and help me. And she lumbers close and takes me by the scruff of my neck and deposits me in front of the great hooves of the tall stag god who stands and watches all. I crawl between them and am safe.

“What the f ….! “ I think as the iron grip seizes my chin and yanks. Flashback … a teenager grizzles as nausea surges, all around the world is pink and glistening, shimmering, no faces, no contours, nothing but opaque pain. But I am not that teenager. Nearly forty years on and I remember I am lying on a trolley as the pain in my side nudges me into consciousness.

And I feel the hooves on either side of me as I lie curled within the orbit of the warm breath of the great bear that lies close. Breathing, I ride the morphine into oblivion...

Grunting, I roll from the trolley onto the bed and painfully sit up. Carefully I examine my swollen belly. Four holes, four painful places, but four small wounds, easy to heal.

“Don’t go” the voice behind the voice says to the Mama Bear and the Lord of the wildwood, the mighty stag god who are still there. “Thank you for your love; I have need of you still.”

My fingers wrap around the plastic bottle. I shake it experimentally. Its contents rattle dully. “Two pearls,” I muse as my stomach growls and reminds me that I am really quite hungry.


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