The Magic Of the Home That Is Muse
a short story
August 27, 2011
Scanning through her e-mails has become a daily chore. The past year every word typed from her often arthritic fingers remind her of the duties and responsibilities she willingly claimed as her own back in the beginning, back when the Light of Love parted the churning waters of writer's unrest and led her to the Muse.
How, she wondered, had their paths not crossed before? They'd been at the same venue mere months ago, yet had obviously walked right past each other, not recognizing what was to become of them.
Not recognizing, or not yet ready to take advantage of it? Timing in the overall scheme of things is important, and not often recognized by the ones focusing on their own narrowed needs.
The drawbridge of Muse is coated in dust of pure Light magic, but only the true members of the magic of soul recognize it and see the glittering lights sparking from it.
She felt her spirit lifting and joy replacing the dark anguish from years of living amongst the Drainers. Each step into the haven of the Muse Temple called her mind's eye to look this way and that. Over there, yes, that one most assuredly fluttered beneath the radar, but sparkled to those that can see beyond the obvious. Over there...yes, she would have to introduce a bird into this aerie to call to those yet awake and help bring smiles to their somber faces. She would call him Paul, Paul Parrot.
Across the room, stepping from the enclosed cloak room Superman emerged, lifted his head and...oh my...yes, he winked. For one surprising moment she thought she could feel his lightness pass through her like a tickle of love she wanted to giggle over.
Holding onto her mirth, she turned toward the cheesecake laden table and took minute notice of the Goddess of Inspired Beginnings and Butterfly Wings. As if sensing her gaze, the goddess turned and her eyes began to twinkle.
Home...yes, she'd come home.
From behind her voices called and she turned to see why the air behind her was now rich with sparkling magic dust.
The Goddess of Inspiration and World Shine complete with her treasure chest of avatars cross the drawbridge first.
Hearts can swell, she knew that before, but now she knew they swelled from just the melodic peal of another's laugh. Before she could recover herself a bird of farseeing wisdom flitted in, her speak rich in knowledge gleaned from across the seas.
And finally, flowers spreading before her like aromatic diamonds blending with symbiotic recognition of magic to magic entered the last of the soul unit. Soul Unit created at the Dawn of All That Is, separated by adventure and need to learn, but eternally called back together, a need stronger than any of them can deny.
The Goddess of Inspired Beginnings and Butterfly Wings built this chrysalis, calling to the rest of us to come home.
Home is where the heart it...it is not a place, it is a joining of spirits that have been part of the Light of Always since the beginning of Time.