Moriah, Gerodi, and Druid Bernie set off to the Hill of NaCosta and decided to clime to the top of the Hill.They saw the home of the ancient druids, on the side of the hill, now long gone. They found the piles of round stones, mostly covered with moss and with ivy.

Moriah’s was helped by using her canes and often stopped to look back at the increasing view of the countryside all round about bathed in the forty shades of green, maybe fifty miles in every direction. A kestrel was flying back and forth for the entire time, making a loud cry. It was far up but not too far to be seen. The cry of a bird wanting some change.

They saw a flock a sheep further up that moved together as a pack, putting up their heads to evaluate the intruders on their grounds, maybe by a sniff of the air. Some cattle came to investigate them. They snorted a little but soon got bored and went on eating the lush grass. The copious amounts of watery stools that flew out of them, were easy to avoid, as they dried up quickly in the hot sun of midday. 

As they neared the top they were held back from getting to the old stone age burial ground on top by a think hedge of briars and nettles. They could see the bonnie rowen trees lacing the top in the distance. 

They turned around, giving up on that last climb up, cowed by the sharp nettles. Sometimes Moriah would cut a bunch of nettles and run them along her lower back for a deep stinging, followed by a rash of heat and pain, that took her breath away, to help with the arthritic pain. She often saw her mother putting her hands into the nettles for the same reason.

 Moriah scooted along on her arse a time or two, if the thistles and cow dung were not in her way. She told Druid Bernie that she was having difficulty “Only on the down hill, when my knees try to slip out over my shins bones.”  Sometimes Druid Bernie and Gerodi linked her on either side on the steepest parts to bring her down the easier and the quicker. 

When they were almost down from the Hill they decided to find the stones again and to sit on  them and meditate and see what they could find. Would this be a place where the druids left traces of their holiness for them to sit into and be affected positively? Nobody else seems to value such energetic possibilities, most people having forgotten.

As they sat there, they went through the routines of loosening the bonds with the earth and the mind to open the everlasting door to God Consciousness and the soul by being still in body and quiet in mind. She would listen into the silence with her eyes turned up in her head, watching for what might come down on her from above.  

As Moriah watched she saw the old alter, a flat rock that once was the alter here on the side of the Hill. There she surrounded herself with her love for her maker all around her and within her. 

She surrendered herself onto her own alter, on which she sacrifices her self and all that is opposed to the higher in her. She lays it all down before the higher. She lights the four columns of light, one to your left and one to your right one to the east and one to the west. She burn a beautiful incense of all of her past prayers and longings for who she is and where she comes from. 

She is under the shadow of the most high, the blue and the indigo, the violet, that marvelous curtain that is waving just above her. She raises her eyes. She waits in the secret place of the Most High. She calls on her own inner cakras, along the back bone to lift up their gates so that the everlasting door to the Most High is opened. She is under the blue mist of God’s time, over and around her. 

When a time went by and they had sent out their prayers for the earth and for their loved ones, and especially for those not so loved, they closed up their openness promising to dwell in the House of God forever.  They talked as they made their way back to the donkey and cart patiently waiting for them. Gerodi had gone on ahead and pulled our the making of the tea and set a little fire aflame. Gerodi was good with getting tea ready in no time. 

Moriah and Bernie talked of their meditation and their dreams as they sat watching the flames lick around the old teapot, whose inside was coated with tea tannins. In an earlier dream, she had seem pieces of crockery, blue and white, broken, irregular pieces, on the old abandoned alter on the Hill.

Druid Bernie said that the cups on the alter hold the best of her. When she looses her temper, gets into a stormy situation, the cups break and there is nothing on the alter. The prayers of all her goodness have to be hedged about with the  kindness, love, peace and many other good emotional things to keep storms away that would break up her offerings. Those holy sentiments would fill up her cups and they would bring a real offering to her alter. 

Moriah said to Bernie “You mean that when I loose my temper….’ Druid Bernie said “Yes that is you breaking the vessels on the alter, that are there, a holy incense of all your prayers. They can be broken easily, in meanness, in thoughts that are astray, mad at others and all sort of evil isle musings. 

All things happen to you for a reason and you have to integrate that into your life with thankfulness. Like the old druid, who said that “to be grateful to your enemies for what they bring to you, was the best thing for you to do, for those are the very lessons especially designed for you.” Can you stay straight up and in balance as this old karma leans over on you to take on and let go.”

It gave Moriah something to ponder as as she remembered another dream where she was leaning off to one side as she did a dance with a dashing man. She crunched down on some oat cake, full of pieces of the whole grain that barely gave way under the pressure of her aging teeth. The tea put them in great form and they sang loudly the hymn about the love of God being” your native land”  and being “homeless less God keeps your heart.” The End.