Thursday, November 19, 2009

Visiting Others

My bedroom was dark and the only sound was jazz from the blue lit radio.

I closed my eyes in soft surrender.

I opened them suddenly, seemingly just a moment later.

Now the room was bathed in a warm golden glow. She was back, as promised.

'Michael. Come take my hand.'

I rose immediately.

'Close your eyes', she almost whispered.

I have never experienced such trust in my life. Not blind trust. The clearest vision I have ever had.

I cannot tell you what happened next, except that it was a rush of emotion, yet I KNEW and thought. A balance of heart and head.

Then we stood on a cliff. Overlooking a silver sea. I looked up. The sky was golden.

The more She talked, the more translucent She became. Oddly the more I became comfortable about the things She spoke of in Spirit.

She smiled again and we seemed to fly. Across the silver sea, through the golden sky.

We approached a rocky shore, bereft of greenery. There was a flat area behind the coastal crags, and there we landed. It was some kind of patio, with tables and chairs in the near distance.

'Go and sit. There is someone coming to meet you.' She walked away as I neared the table set with my clan crest. I sat and looked around.

There was a throng sitting and chatting. Many were dressed in chain mail and were armed with broadswords. There were others in different dress and farther away.

As I wondered, a hand clasped my shoulder. I looked up startled and realized I had been in 'condition white'.

A smile and laugh greeted me.

'You needn't worry here, now about that. Neither are you safe.' He laughed with hearty gusto.

Perplexed in this strange place, I simply asked why.

'Because,' he smiled with narrowed eyes, 'Life is a test.'

With that, he drew a two handed broadsword and swung it where my head should have been. It wasn't because I felt it coming. I rolled, swung up and blocked the blow. A blow that felt like a lightning strike.

'That sword you have, it doesn't like to be sheathed. Sit and have a drink with me.'

He placed his broadsword on the table and stretched, hands behind his head and feet spread.

Eyeing him, I sat opposite and wondered still what was coming.

As I sat, for the first time, I truly got a look at him.

He was large, well built, with a red/gold beard streaked with grey. He was clad in leather and metal from a time long ago.

In spite of the menace of a bit ago, I felt in my gut, that I was in good company, though I sensed I would hate and regret being this man's enemy.

'Son, you know who I am.'

I did. He was an ancestor who precursed my clan. Here was no pretext. It was a place of immediate light and truth.

'We have come together to show you great truth. It's simple', he said as he again swept the broadsword up.

I ducked and rolled and thrust up with my Sword. He laughed again. It was the good natured laugh of a father teaching a son. His expression was stern as he told me that I would be sifted as wheat.

It chilled me. I realized that The Woman's last visit was to remind me not to take the Sword nor any gift for granted. This was obviously to drive the point home.

'The pressures put upon those who take up the Sword are great and get greater. What do you do if attacked en masse?'

As he said this several more joined him and came at me at once. I started with the worst threat and worked my way down, always mindful and fully circular.

'Yes. Exactly. Let's take a walk.'

His sword was back behind him and mine was at my side.

Those who 'attacked me' melted back into that great throng that was now all around me. Many appeared to be American Indian and others Scottish Templars. There were many more off to the horizon.

'They are your clan from both sides of the Atlantic', my ancestor stated. 'Those who have fallen will help those who will fall.' He was resolute, matter of fact, yet cheerful.

'You risked much taking up that Sword. You would have risked more not doing so. You could lose your earthly life using it. It is not a talisman to ward off death. Just the opposite. It may attract death and destruction.'

I listened for there was nothing I could say nor add, but that I knew there was more.

'Yes, son, there is more', he responded.

We reached a large door. It was smooth til he knocked upon it.

Then, it seemed to shift. There weere carvings from many cultures that seemed to shape and reshape into others.

Runes, hieroglyphs, dead and obscure languages and newer more familiar signs.

It opened into seeming darkness.

He bade me enter after him.

I breathed deeply and stepped across the threshold.

There were many doors, many paths. He took me past countless ones and settled at a plain metallic looking portal.

'You must enter alone. Do not give into fear. Let the Light of the Sword guide you. Do not give up, lest you are lost. If you stumble and fall, get up and go on. Of you lie down, you will never get up.'

I looked at him, then gazed at the now open way ahead. I nodded and withdrew the Sword and stepped in.

'We will all meet again.'

It was a last bit of warmth before I was dropped into a cold place. I raised the Sword and Light indeed poured forth. Cold fear was replaced by warm assurance.

Then, I saw the maze.

1 comment:

teacher said...

You have a penchant for the bizarre, yet telling.