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~ The Altar of Tyr ~

Part II

He held Her chin in his hand, and gently lifted her head, so that He could continue to search her soul, as she hadGoddess Altar let her head droop, and began to softly weep; he said (for it now dawned on Him, that he was the cause of this misshapen moment, this conflict and pain), “My desire must have overtaken me, as when we parted last, you had become divisive with yourself, at my bidding, and it is I, who must bear the blame for your state, and I humbly ask your forgiveness, as not a single hair on your head, nor a spot on your body would I harm.” He said this, as tears fell from his face, and She, in turn, returned his gaze, soul for soul, and Her mien changed, a glow appearing where there had been only red and black, and gently put her hand upon his face, falling into Him, and they both wept.

They talked of many things and, each to their own, plumbed the depths of their feelings, exchanging life-stories, and sharing the intimate moments, which only comes from Love – and of lovers. The time passed, and arousal, often coming on the heels of anguish, intensity, or deprivation, soon began to consume them both, and the passing pleasures of lips, hands and intentions, soon took the moment, exchanging pain for pleasure, and soon the heat of their skin was a radiant and glowing form, and He was overwhelmed with passion, and gently took Her hand, picked her up, and told her to follow him.

He was full, his heat filling him, seeking release, and he took Her to a small glen, with trees and animals all about, flowers and delicious scents bathed them in their gifts, but his awareness of Her scent, would still all the other flavours in his mind, and facing Her, he deeply embraced Her, and let his fullness embrace Her body, and soon He was exposed to the full view of nature, and to Her, directing her hands to him, feeling her timid and gentle touch, cool and hot at the same time; the moment had arrived, and as He enveloped Her, she whispered, “Wait, not yet,” and she fell to her knees, embracing the length of his thighs, her hands now strong, firm, and with intention pushed her head between His legs, just above the knees, up to her neck, in a pose of submission and acknowledgment then, of a sudden, she withdrew, and her long hair fell at his feet, her forehead resting gently on the tops of his feet, saying something under her breath, a prayer, perhaps, and he leaned over slightly, and caressed Her head in acknowledgment, and picked Her up, gently taking her into his arms, astounded at the symbolism of the act, and fully accepting it.

Her face was flushed, Her eyes with the look of a wild and fully present mind, filled with intentions, and He said to her, “I have never seen this gift in my life, and acknowledge your sense of giving, and your worship of my fullness and intention; it is no mean thing you do and, unless you are used to this submission at the sight of a man’s fullness, tells me that you have, indeed, accepted me into your deepest of souls, and it is now upon you, how you will now bear this.” She looked into His eyes, and deep within her, a pounding of her heart leaped with joy and passion, and she acknowledged what had happened between them, and their embracing was full, and complete.

The night passed between them, and in the early morning, upon waking, He looked about, and She was not there, gone in the night, and He knew searching would not reveal her; he got up, and was drawn to the place where they had passed through and with the moment, and, lo!, there was a circle of evergreens, with the potent symbol of Tyr held within, an Altar of intentions, submission and desire. The message was clear and tender, unremarkable for the natural material She had used, yet he could see her shaping, then filling, the sacred circle with her own hands – it was a moving and powerful thing, as she was not immersed in the rites of ritual (as far as He knew), or of punishment, and yet she had left Her intentions and acknowledgment for the gods and He, to witness.

He remained for a space, and then proceeded back to where they had first spoke the morning before, against the two stones, a sign of the feminine, of intentions and depth – the grotto, the cave, the opening, all apt descriptions of the sacred feminine, of warmth and comfort, of legacy and theme – of that great theme, with which the White Goddess was always present; here, it was, that time had begun, and consummation had reveled in the display of love, desire and mutual understanding. He was in awe of Her, the goddess brought to life, to His life, and He wept for the sheer beauty of it.

He did not know when he would see Her again, and a melancholy began to descend upon him, so he took his possessions, and headed east, toward the outskirts of town, and a place to spend the night. His day proceeded, and he saw marvelous things, and stopped at irregular brooks and streams, always remembering the Well and Spring of his hope, and heavy in Her arms, he remained, always looking for her face.

A week passed, and He had not seen Her, although he left signs for Her to see of his passing, and he knew she would see them and, perhaps, keep those petals close to her heart. He passed wayfarers, and charlatans, and he read at the great places of worship and knowledge, which filled the valley; he spoke with more learned men and women, and filled his mind with awareness and confirmations. He bathed in the sun of genius, as well as those who had lost their way, and never ceased to marvel at the beauty of it all – his heart was filling with the love of the variety of intentions, and the music filled his heart and ears, for music was everywhere, each hamlet and abode, filled to overflowing with the magic of words and music, some resonating with Him, and some not so much – but all was present. The mix of souls was that touch of grey, that twilight in which one could, if they were looking, sense the magic and the gleaning of a diamond here, and a ruby there, the individual stone polished, or no, but all hidden in a fog that, heretofore, had been either one or the other; now, he searched for the hidden gems with a passion.

When He found such a gem, it would often evolve into questions of, or exchanges in ideas, philosophy, magic or belief, and soon he was amazed at the diffusion of thought, and the genuine search for the undulating and ofttimes, swift flow of life, each possessing parts and fragments of the whole – he felt there was more, of that duality and singularity of direction, which one embraced for their own survival and, yet, there was something to be said of the disparate elements, and He felt many of them present in his own being, and yet he remained focused, intimately aware of his directions and energy. Changing he might be, but considered it more of a total and balanced awareness, and She had opened him to that.

As he passed certain travelers, familiar faces started to emerge in his mind, and as the days came and went, he was becoming familiar to many, and certain friendships started to develop in a space of time, and campfires soon made themselves more welcome, as he was invited to share breakfast, lunch or dinner, with those who were drawn to Him, and he to them.

So it was, that one night, the night before the Temple of the Sun was to be attended, that he sat with a few new comrades and their families, Gwion, also, was in attendance, and they all broke bread between them. Gwion offered up the prayer to the Father, and a young lass, in her fashion, offered up a prayer to the Goddess; everyone settled into eating and talking about the week, and soon He found himself by the fire, alone, but with just a few minutes of reflection and personal meditations, before he heard footsteps, many of them, and turned to see two men and two women approaching, and He sensed the power of it, as the number of five (as He made up the fifth part) had a certain significance– Grace and peace – and He wondered what was to come of such a token.

More…

COPYRIGHT © 2013 FRANK L. DESILVA
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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