Happy All Souls Day! The Veil has grown thin, and we can almost Touch....
I feel the pure Spirits of my mother, my aunty, my uncle, our pets and the threshold of my childhood home near me on this day while one heart, one mind, one soul dances in the Rahklands. Allowing my quiet fire to fill and trusting it to safely warm the home I now inhabit.
Thankful that God gave me a human mind and body to appreciate and express His glorious and sacred gifts of Music and Dance. That He gave me the Will and Passion to build and rebuild the walls of my House from Air.
In awe that He set me down amidst the Fae which flows through and responds to all His creation, tapping in the Right Time to the collective Rhythm, that He has touched me with an Adept's Sight to see His Magick and His Blessing to Work It in His Name.
May the Sun Shine on Your Head, Love as Thou Wilt and Good Dancing! --~^..^~
draw the circle
in the dirt of your mind
Prepare
set your song free--
key the jivatma
color caresses the blade
Dance
I like to tap my feet to the rhythm. Why don't you dance with me to the rhythm?
For the family of my heart, not always bound by blood, but by spirit, mercy, acceptance and understanding. Thank you for choosing to be in my house and being the brick and mortar of its walls. Thank you for allowing me to eat and drink from the table in yours. --~^..^~
Found it! From Jennifer Roberson's Sword-Born, page 277. Because Tiger has said it better than I ever could.
"Then why did you come?"
Clarity from the Sandtiger--
"To find out if there was a home in my life where the walls were built of brick and mortar instead of air.
But I didn't necessarily find my home. I found a home. Her home. Your home.
There is a part of me that wishes to be of it. Yes.... But being of something is not the same thing as being that thing.
I am my home. Where I go, that is my home. My walls are built of air. There is no substance-- no brick, no mortar-- except the substance I give them, and that is air. A circle drawn in the sand. A man born in and of a house doesn't truly comprehend what it is to be a house. Because there is no need."
Herakleio: "But you have that woman in it."
That woman. Not a woman. That one. Specifically.
Herakelio understood semantics better than I'd believed.
Tiger: "Because she chooses to be in it," I said finally; and that in itself was so different from what I would have said three years before, when every part of me knew a woman was in a man's house because he put her there.
Herakleio: "Does she build them of air as well, those walls?"
Tiger: "The walls of my home?" I shook my head. "Del is my brick. My mortar."
His intensity went up a notch. "And if she left your house, would those walls collapse?"
This time it was my turn to stare hard across the horizon. "I don't know."
cross posted from Facebook first and last
Thankful that God gave me a human mind and body to appreciate and express His glorious and sacred gifts of Music and Dance. That He gave me the Will and Passion to build and rebuild the walls of my House from Air.
In awe that He set me down amidst the Fae which flows through and responds to all His creation, tapping in the Right Time to the collective Rhythm, that He has touched me with an Adept's Sight to see His Magick and His Blessing to Work It in His Name.
May the Sun Shine on Your Head, Love as Thou Wilt and Good Dancing! --~^..^~
draw the circle
in the dirt of your mind
Prepare
set your song free--
key the jivatma
color caresses the blade
Dance
I like to tap my feet to the rhythm. Why don't you dance with me to the rhythm?
For the family of my heart, not always bound by blood, but by spirit, mercy, acceptance and understanding. Thank you for choosing to be in my house and being the brick and mortar of its walls. Thank you for allowing me to eat and drink from the table in yours. --~^..^~
Found it! From Jennifer Roberson's Sword-Born, page 277. Because Tiger has said it better than I ever could.
"Then why did you come?"
Clarity from the Sandtiger--
"To find out if there was a home in my life where the walls were built of brick and mortar instead of air.
But I didn't necessarily find my home. I found a home. Her home. Your home.
There is a part of me that wishes to be of it. Yes.... But being of something is not the same thing as being that thing.
I am my home. Where I go, that is my home. My walls are built of air. There is no substance-- no brick, no mortar-- except the substance I give them, and that is air. A circle drawn in the sand. A man born in and of a house doesn't truly comprehend what it is to be a house. Because there is no need."
Herakleio: "But you have that woman in it."
That woman. Not a woman. That one. Specifically.
Herakelio understood semantics better than I'd believed.
Tiger: "Because she chooses to be in it," I said finally; and that in itself was so different from what I would have said three years before, when every part of me knew a woman was in a man's house because he put her there.
Herakleio: "Does she build them of air as well, those walls?"
Tiger: "The walls of my home?" I shook my head. "Del is my brick. My mortar."
His intensity went up a notch. "And if she left your house, would those walls collapse?"
This time it was my turn to stare hard across the horizon. "I don't know."
cross posted from Facebook first and last