She was on about her heavy leg again and the Druid was re-lighting up his pipe by poking it with a twig and going to the turf fire to get a little cinder to set it going again. The turf fire was roasting everyone and they had pulled back a bit into the dark of the roon in order to cool off. The weather had turned unexpectedly warm and the air made it feel more like a hot room than a comfort. Mariah was reluctant to open the door to let in some coolness as her leg did not like any kind of breezes and became cold and lumpy like lard, given any excuse.
The druid knew of her desire to have access to Uishneach’s pot of gold and he turned to Mariah with his back to the fire. He liked the heat also of the fire, making his meridians a little livelier, and stared his speech; “There is more than one kind of gold. There is the changing of the lead in your leg to gold, going from a dark grey light into a golden light. Put that through in your pipe and smoke it” he finished up.
She was a little peevish about this implication that she was less than perfect in her physical body as she liked to see herself in an elevated manner, flawless in her own way, even if she had a gimpy leg, wounded in her thigh so to speak.
The Druid went on to explain the story of the twin brothers. One had stolen the birth right of the other and that one who had received the elevated blessings got tidings of his twin brother coming to get him with his army of big well clad, well fed, armored men. The brother knew in his present state he would be toast when they came.
The Druid had helped himself to a slice of brown bread from the breadboard on the table, had put it on a forked stick and was toasting it to perfection in the turf coals. His face glowed red in the nearness to the fire and that smell of wheat and sweet creamy milk filled the room to perfection. Mariah started salivating, watching the bread turn golden, a little black on one edge and listening to the tale from the Druid.
The slice fell into the coals but he quickly flicked it out and it was ready for a slather of yellow butter, made by the dwarves, who were famous for this other kind of gold that was prized and loved by all. The druid offered Mariah the bread as it dripped with butter. She was surprised at this sharing gesture, as he loved his slice of manna prepared in this way. She said she had her fill already.
The Druid continued with his story of how that one blessed twin, knowing his brother was coming in the morning, started to prepare a ring of stones around his head and one for his head in the middle There he laid down, as he listened for his Source to help him as he faced certain death in the morning. He was centered as surely as the rocks were centered around his head. His little fire of sweet sented twigs sent smoke swirling around him and he drifted out into a dream after praying for a long time, after silence for a long time. He was waiting.
He dreamed of one of the angels coming down a ladder to him and he spent the rest of the night in a deadly embrace with this Angel. Any time the Angel tried to leave, he told him he could not leave, as he needed to be changed, so that his brother would not kill him in the morning.
This blessed twin often felt so tired he was about to give up. The Angel heard his pleas and gave him a wound in his thigh in order for some bad blood to leave him, so that all that stood between him and being changed, could leave him. This woke him up and he was able to be centered about what he wanted. He wanted a new name, a name that only comes to those who know in their hearts that love is the only thing that would work in this case. As his blood flowed out of that wound, as he sacrificed attitudes and emotions toward his brother, he felt the flow into his heart from above and all his feelings were filled with love. He was obliterated in his old ways and was new again. The angel gave him a new name connecting him to Love.
The blessed twin let the angel go up that ladder. He jumped up as the morning wind of dawn blew his little fire into flame and he saw the first light of dawn strike the horizon. He was so full of love for his brother that he went running out to meet him with open arms. He soon saw his brother who was well ahead of his army. When he got to his brother twin, that twin fell into each others arms and wept in the mercy of such love.
The fire was out in Mariah’s room and it had cooled down and was dark. The Druid had slipped away. Mariah was dreaming of four angels on the four corners of the room and there was a great silence. Mariah thought of her twin dream again and knew she sould look at it a little differently than she had up until now. She might even go to the river and lie among the stones and demand to be changed too, look for a new name among the pebbles. The end.
Rose is a little speechless after writing on her porch this morning. The sun is coming out, through light clouds. Her Christmas cactus is awaiting their photo sessions. She heard a beautiful dream of a rock wall created by the dreamer and her father when she was a little one. Some positive feelings coming into her as she does her inner work and nears her later life. And the other rock wall from another dream, used by the dreamer to tell his woman to get down, as his shadow in the airplane takes aim at the aimless women. The dream is telling him that he he has to be in a locked, embraced with his inner opposite, his anima, as he goes through mid life reclaiming what his mother stole from his as a young child.
And if you would like to work with the people who people your dreams, you can contact me through Psychology Today, where they pride themselves in checking into their members’ valid licenses and qualifications. If you like my stories please comment telling me what it brough to you. I love your conversations and likes when I get them. Sending out a prayer for my readers. Love from Rose.