I am reminded of a time I knew you, where we travelled with Myrrh, and sat at the bedsides of the sick to anoint the weary for their journey to the other side.
We will do it again, this time in different form.
The great wise owl spreads it's wings for us.
We fly on to the land of the sacred, where we scavenge for the sea shells worn smooth in the waters of forgiveness. I collect the antidotes and you wash rings in the sands of time, and we emerge with baskets brimming with a harvest to make the medicine for the weary.
You keep tossing circles out, and laughing as the sun glistens upon you, and I watch with a curious awe and appreciation of who you are; You who the elementals know by name.
I mark the ground with longing, I place four squares and seven stems around the center of a moldavite peach and I divide half the harvest and offer half to the earth and the other half to the heavens. This offering becomes the rainbow bridge on which moccasined feet will walk, and we will unite with our soul counterparts somewhere exactly between heaven and Earth.
Rainbow brothers and rainbow sisters
The time has come to make amends
Meet me halfway between the pillars
The rose unfolds her secrets
The circle spins sacred songs of renewal
The Fate of the Kalpa is upon us
~Arkana Rose for "The Pristine Belonging"