Saturday, March 16, 2013

J Called to the old ones

J Called to the old ones

Tuesday February 26, 2013
In the garden, everything is a bit damp. It's cool and soothing to touch.
I've not got much time but am drawn down to the well again. I leap over the
square pool to the steps on the other side. My sick friend, still sitting
there and Bride, opposite her, don't seem to notice.

I stride up the steps on the other side; there seem to be a lot more of them
on that side. At the top, I survey the undulating countryside before I am
drawn to noticing the large hollow tree to my left. I'm sure I see Mama
bear disappearing inside. I follow, find the spiral stairs and run down
after her.
Marching through the tunnels, I come to the cavern with the big square
dancing fire framed by its stone fireplace. There sits Mama Bear and the
World. I sit down on the floor with them and rest my head on Mama Bear's
tummy. The wolf comes to rest her head on my knee. We are still, watching
the fire. It is so comforting.

But the day calls me back. Reluctantly, I climb back up the spiral stairs,
down into the well, leap across, touch my sick friend on the shoulder, nod
to Bride, and scamper back to now.

Standing under the rowan tree, I feel the rough fur of Mama Bear against my
cheek and the reassuring pressure of the wolf's head on my thigh. Touch
into this and remember love, I think to myself.

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