I had left my fleshy over coat of a body lying safely in my bed. This want unusual I did this most nights, orange glow of the salt lamp beside my head. Purring black cat curled beside my feet as the misty egg shaped craft enfolded me rocked gently as it carried my to the safety of the second road astral plane.
The misty egg dispersed revealing the beauty of this place which always made me smile.
I pushed open the squeaky mental gate stepped onto the winding path to my left a field of barley gently swaying in the warm breeze sound of grass hopers and salty smell of the ocean to my right is a beautiful meadow wild flowers scattered like paint on a canvas.
The path leads to my temple just before it stand two guardian yew trees and a tall slim man watching me walk towards him. He is leaning on a garden hoe tending the herbs that grow beside the temple doors.
Its Joe I smile as I reach him his sparkly blue eyes smile by themselves weathered leathery skin from all the hours tending the gardens.
He holds out his hand and hands me a key label tied with old piece of string reads time.
He pushes open the huge oak doors to the temple and I step into the cool hallway candle light flickers as I step into the small room to my left.
I undress and change into the red robe that is hanging there for me.
The stone floor clod on my feet.
I continue down the hallway holding the key.
Almost muffled sound of drumming an ancient beat steady and reassuring.
I reach the end of the hall way there in the archway of the old stained glass window overlooking the beach is an old woman gently humming a tune that seems so familiar?
As she hums she spins a silken almost glass like thread on her old spinning wheel.
As the thread catches the light it seems to throw off prisms of light pictures like old cine film. Of places I’ve been people I know, memories.
She smiles never taking her fingers from the wheel or slowing down and the thread spins on.
The pile of material she is spinning from seems to grow quickly smaller as I watch.
What is this I say crouching down beside it.
It reminds me of blown dandelion seeds, wishes?
It is so beautiful.
It is time my child she says as a single tear runs down her cheek.
I look at the keys label ‘time’
But your almost out of thread I say I have the key shall I get more for you to spin?
Everything has a begging and a end my child she whispers as the last piece of thread runs though her fingers and the wheel runs free.
There is a gush of wind she stands up before me and opens the clock she is wearing.
The lining of the cloak shines before me it is the universe our galaxy there is our blue planet circling our sun.
A pin like explosion sparks from it.
Then another and another. Until just like seeds from a dandelion it is gone.
She steps forward wraps her cloak around me and everything begins to spin.
Raven Wordsmith 🖤