Dishes and Stardust

30/01/09

What she saw pleased her. And while she wiped and scrubbed she noticed each crust was softened by the warm soapy water and they fell away as if without aid, alone ... given time. She came to think, as she looked out at the view before her how these dishes were much like the past few years, since the passing of the Druid and the chaos which followed. Crusts had formed over the years in the confusion and neglect, but now, with a little warmth and encouragement they were slowly falling away leaving pink skin and a few scars.



Standing at the sink, deep in meditation, the setting sun streamed through the window before her. The golden light the sun's last effort for the day, as the dishes were hers. The synchronicity brought a smile to her lips and warmed her. She marvelled at the contrast with darkness such light could bring, making evening shadows cool and dark.



In these days the lichen had begun to form again, binding the awnings of buildings becoming homes again. The people within them gathered to strategise, to earnestly discuss... they were more like a band of warriors than ever before, training to defend the boundaries, strategising movements and decisions, debating which experiences to allow through the gates and when. How different things were to the Before times. Such love for the Spirit-woman was never so fierce, so unwavering.



The boundary walls had grown thick and firm, but, unlike years passed, were able to be penetrated if reason presented to the governing townsfolk seemed worthy. The process of decision, now matured, had become fair and just in the name of the Spirit-woman and for her life itself.



The sun glistened off her wet hands and a bubble, breaking loose from its bonds with the familiar, drifted up, up, up and danced silently. A perfect rainbow shimmering sphere in the setting sunlight. Pop! It burst just in front of her nose and its inner essence released, its skin amalgamating and falling back to the sink-water awaiting re-formation.



"And such is our life" she said to her gold-lit reflection. She marvelled at her features for a moment befriending another wrinkle. She gathered them like momentos in braille telling their story thus far - the before time, the devestation after the Druid's death, the trance in the Amber Canyon and the journey from its depths, up its walls and back to the village. The re-membering of the village itself.



Lanterns lit through the garden marked the end of work, the time for sharing and frivolity had come. A chorus of laughter from the people, men women and children chorused and echoed the song of the night - crickets, frogs and a young family of owls stayed in their aria long into each night, so when they fell into sleep they were rested.



There was much work to be done and adjustments made in the management of her interaction with the outside world. Breathing the essence of the Old Way into the spine of the Spirit-woman who through grief and misguidance, had somewhat wilted. Upholding the essence of the Druid and his ways, his truth. Our truth.



The Elder knew that the compass was well aligned. Now the trees were sprouting and growing through the dust, the days had become cooler and refreshing, seedlings sprouted out of the earth where once there had been mulch, the river ran clear. The birds and critters, once scattered, were returning. The scent of pie decorated the senses and on some evenings, one can even catch the vaguest scent of Jasmine...