A Kind of Magic

hermesWhen his love he doth espy, let her shine as gloriously as the Venus of the sky ~ William Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night’s Dream

It wasn’t the flickering light in the upper storey window that drew the Watcher’s attention, for many lights vied for his attention that evening. It was a melody drifting upwards through the gradually darkening sky.

A rose-gold sun set the western horizon alight and resplendent Venus shone like a beacon above the rooftops, flanked by blood-red Mars and the glowing yellow circle of Jupiter. The lone figure, invisible to the naked eye, made slow, wide circles in the radiant atmosphere.

Drawn by her irresistible presence below, the Watcher descended to hover before the house where she dwelt. The flame of a candle within licked gently at the surrounding air and a heady scent was carried to him with the rising music. He inspired silently, considering the one inside. She was stretched like a cat upon the bed, with an open book face-down beside her on the pillow. Intently he watched her, his eye now fixed.

One golden glance of what should be.

A powerful gust of wind blew the window open and she jumped out of her skin, shaken from her hazy reverie by the sudden noise and rush of cool air. Moving like quicksilver, he silently slipped inside.

Staring at the breached window she searched the indigo space he left behind him. A magnificent aura permeated the room, sparkling with countless flecks of shimmering golden atoms that alighted on her skin like a veil of the Holy Shekinah.

Arising thoughtfully, she took a cautious step towards the opening. He watched again while she turned her head north and then south, seeking what or whomsoever had disturbed the rose-scented ether.

Finding nothing but the dying throes of day she fastened shut the window and lay down again, book in hand, not quite unaware of the almost unexpected arrival of the thrice-descended master. The Led display of her mobile phone revealed that it was 22.22.

With avid concentration she listened to the voice that came into her room via the radio. A drama was set to unfold, of that she could be sure. Doubtless there was a kind of magic taking place right there and then, with her at the centre of its endlessly opening and closing circle. She also knew she was no longer alone, for a profound change had occurred in the electrified atmosphere.

Luscious chords swelled like a rising ocean, sweeping over her body and soul with a sensuous rhythm. The lost history of time unfolded in his fathomless mind.

She was wearing gold-coloured sandals – shoes that were a gift from her father – and a midnight blue dress. Around her wrist was a bracelet full of charms and with his bright, ancient eyes, he saw that the necklace at her throat was made from the stuff of magic, a gift from her mystery-loving mother.

He had once again challenged the doors of time to reach her and the wait had seemed an eternity. 2,628 years had passed since she had last been this close to him. On that occasion the moon had been perfectly halved by the shadow of the Earth. Jupiter, then, was at the same point in its orbit as it would be in precisely three and a half minutes that self-same night.

He looked over his shoulder at the gigantic sphere, which slowly turned through the fragile cosmos with an intricately complex, haunting melody. A ray of its light fell upon her in that moment and the fearless diamond of her soul began to dissolve in mercury.

One shaft of light that showed the way

cupid and psycheA sense of fervent devotion rose up inside her like the flames of a secret fire as he stretched out his hands to touch her outspread hair.

This flame that burns inside of me is here in secret harmonies

She had had dreams; he could see every colour of every scene.

One dream, one soul, one prize, one goal

With a silent whisper he reminded her of the truth:

No mortal man can win this day.

He drew a flickering image of paradise into the infinite space between them and exhaled into her parted lips.

There can be only one….

The radio crackled and grew fainter, framing the esoteric silence like a braid of wheat, magnetising all background interference until the air grew taut as a lens, magnifying live reactions as if they were in a scene from a lyric master’s play.

Still you will always be with me, your name constantly on my lips, never forgotten.*

*Hymn of Orpheus

With thanks to Freddie Mercury

Pros Theon: Secrets Fragment

It should be seen and heard that repentance has been brought into actualization and has now been fully activated by the collective knowledge of the requisite number of beings.

May the spirit of the offering be received as it was made, with pure intent.

The perfect sacrifice is that which is most dearly beloved yet does no longer involve the corporeal shedding of blood.

There are those who fear that the deepest esoteric secrets and teachings of the original universal states would be exposed and taken in vain and it is to be hoped that the encryption is secure enough to prevent wrongful disclosure.

Overall it is considered now that things once kept as a reserve for the few should now be made available to one and all, in the interest of equality. To remain open to evolutionary change is a fundamental duty of the priests of true religions.

To proceed with care is necessary for there is a paradox that must be maintained in order to preserve mystical essence and the corpus of strength whilst ensuring that light within this body is allowed to penetrate beyond the boundaries of dogma.

That all was created through the technicolour language of love with joy and pain is known; the writing on the walls has been seen. The consequential beauty was so immeasurable as to be rendered invisible to the naked eye in all ways but one that is nature unveiled.

This in itself is that which is usually seen and is the perpetual unfoldment of an immaculate conception. Immaculate because it was brought into being that it may be more than a figment of love’s imagination.

The perfect original as it came into effect during the given age is therefore experienced but frequently unknown though this has been shown. There is more that could be said of the creation but the only word capable of defining this much is held within. The captive heart of love is bound forever by the memory of how it felt to remember this. Fortune was blessed as a spectrum of light stretched across the soul’s plane to show that the mirror of heaven is upon the Earth.

This is to bring hope anew to whosoever has fainted from despair and sees, though they cannot yet believe, that the circle of the arch of the sky is completed beneath the surface of the oceans and sands.