Carols of Ghosts…
They, the most spiritual of the spirits, the most magical and mysterious, these masters of the elsphere, they absorb, they take in all times of all Christmastides - they are infinite - even they take note of the shocks emanating on this especially lovely early winter evening in one of the most gentle of places - they take in all the melodious notes of their emissaries and other missives - they give comfort and life itself and send them flurrying on their way to share - the very substance of the ether that sustains the base - even to them these eruptions of light and concussive waves are out of the realm of this most holy of times.
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For still holy these days and nights are to many - not so quickly forgotten is the magic of Christmas - thankfully gone is the hype and the frenzy, but burning on within the most spiritual of folk is yet the loving touch of elevated selves, of elsprights, of true faeries and ghosts of deepest love, of eternally carolers of inner children of our most sacred purpose - the spark and sparkle and ember within all, or certainly all elfolk - this the warriors of common purpose still harbor and savor, still sustained and buoyed in their relentless counter to the extremes of the sphere of happenings.
On this most magical gift of Christmastide, this Twelve Night, this day of Epiphany, this ultimate evening of lost spirits recalled - here and now they find their holy place of safety, of intimate release, of the ultimate counter of love.
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