Mudra

Enter as a child.

Bucic raised his sword toward the light incoming from the cavern's ceiling. He stood on top of an ancient pile of seashells. Bucic's blade, Capra, caught the holy light perfectly. Bucic's blade was called Capra because Capra is Latin for 'goat', which, translated now, means "greatest of all time".

Yochemmin came forward, to the west of Bucic, across from me. They raised their wand evenly inches from the ground. It was an ornate staff with a globus cruciger at the top of it. If you don't know what that is...I won't tell.

My hero, Suor Denne approached the pile from the north. Nothing occupied her hands, and she raised them outwardly, palms face-up, to give to the light, and to obtain it.

You see, she comes from very dark shadows. And the light needs her often. She knows she is cared for by the light. And the light cast upon her, casts upon the darknesses where she goes.

I was in awe of this awesome moment; watching them each highlighted perfectly by the over-light, standing together on top of a mountain of seashells.

I had almost forgot it was my own turn to enter the pile, until they looked at me while still holding their positions. Awkwardly and humbly, I walked forward from the east, carrying my child of translucence and swarming color across the light. He hovered by my core, my abdomen, until I felt the seashells bleed my feet. The baby grew heavier and heavier as I raised him up. His increasing density broke the shells beneath me until his head was level with theirs, and I was humbled below them.

Under the weight of the cross-legged child, I could not bear nor see what was happening in the cavern. My body quaked and trembled tremendously. The light coming in grew wider around us as the cave crumbled to nothing and vanished. The child had gone, and the four of us were left standing on an ancient pile of seashells who were asking us to return them. Give me back to the sea. Somehow they had washed into this cavern?

Suor Denne sized up the situation while Yochemmin observed her. Bucic still had his sword raised, as if he was frozen; a magnificent statue while his soul travelled from his body. I saw him return to us, watching his sword as he lowered it down to his sheath.

I began picking up the shells to put into Suor Denne's bag. Yochemmin and Bucic helped while Suor Denne held it open for us. After a bit of a while of collecting seashells, the pile became smaller and smaller until we eyed the last one. Bucic said breathlessly, "You want it?"

Yochemmin replied a silent 'no' with a motion of their hands.

Suor Denne emphasized she was holding the pouch to place it into. So I reached down to pick it up.

"Huh, funny. It looks like an angel wing."

"Let me see," Yochemmin said, and the others came closer to look at the shell I held.

We all were mesmerized by this shell. As if it was some kind of an element fathomed by the Akashic Records.. it had transported us through neurons of knowledge, through ages of time and information. Until we were brought back to where we were, not the same as we were...

Suor Denne swallowed audibly and I passed it to her to place in her bag. Yochemmin retained a deeply respectful bow of their head, their eyes both closing and opening as they fully returned to their body after such a journey. They wore a magnificent red robe that sometimes shimmered purple, as if they wore a galaxy of stars. Bucic held his palms face up in front of him, as if they were a book he was reading..

I knelt to the luscious blue-green grass. The most graceful wind passed by us. Winter was turning into summer; as if the seasons were whispering a message guiding us to the beaches....3...

I painted the grass blades with my hands, emptying them of every day. I rose up from my core, straightening upward and downward the axial alignment of my spine. My neck strong, I raised up even higher to approach the clouds in the night sky. And then to pass through them into the star I saw.

I lingered in my open consciousness, just being there, being here for this moment and not deciding when it would come to an end.

I saw a constellation ballerina twirl and dance, her reflection over invisible water.

That was when I returned down to Earth. To the blades of grasses and the winds. To my companions here, sitting at the edge. We could hear waves crashing and spraying from far away...

Seagulls beckoned by the clouds with their peculiar calls...

Strong, forgiving winds.... tell me more...