David Ian's Home

The host encroached, yet paused upon the very edge, enraged all, but those in the lead felt a mix of new sensations, each w their own reaction, a momentary break in momentum, in impulse, hence a new wave of - what - uncertainty, with varying reaction to t

He blinked wide eyed - exhilarating- his full mix of alert and serene - extra strange this time - all those awful things had been said earlier, consuming him as he came her this eve, and her look as they parted - so nasty, how can she do these things - but there are other things, so many feelings and thoughts, his usual torment, but other notes, different this night, this unusual comfort - so supremely nice, a warm embrace, but yes also, a blast of cold, both of air and other spirits - and this quiet - there were others all around, but then a space, a buffer, and her, a new her, a new norm already…

 

She stared straight - stars - how beautiful- now imprints of other lovelies, sparkles, fireworks, still enchanted- visited by, what, persistent carriers of notes, of messages - so many as normal in the deep of night - such great import - oh god yes - the horrible screams, the harsh taunts and unbelievable words of harm - just like her own - yes, she fled them but more erupted even here, her favorite place - now what, so calm, yet not, yet these others, oh yes, him, his touch, ok to just be…

 

The host encroached, yet paused upon the very edge, enraged all, but those in the lead felt a mix of new sensations, each w their own reaction, a momentary break in momentum, in impulse, hence a new wave of - what - uncertainty, with varying reaction to that, and a with an unreal glimpse of momentary calm as the frightened yet still and quiet ones stood strong as they rushed in, their frenzy given further shock by a vision of pure beauty- lovelies on full display...

 

this was the moment to shine and stand strong upon high, to carve out a space at once separate yet completely intertwined with the sphere of humanity - and especially on this surreal Twelve Night of madness, to offer in full display the totally of their v

Suddenly still, they stared - at their newfound fellow warriors - with no words spoken in their center, this urgent vortex they had each, both individually and mutually, created, this mighty anchor a model of holy silence amid the riot of harmful voice all about them.

 

Each of them, a kind of fellowship they all felt - and shared with looks into each others’ strained eyes - each of these fellows now stood like almighty mountains, at the sparks and flames and smoke, at the craziness that somehow drew each of them together - yes, warriors we are, another quiet exchange of notes enabled by their creation.

 

The were totally overwhelmed, each of them, just moments ago, now transformed, triggered as one - they each read in the stares of this strange grouping an inner voice of absolute surety - something purely spiritual was touch and moving each of them who somehow, by one of those ever-present other state forces they all know to be with us all the time - these sprights of the ether, with whom they are surely one, brought them out of the madness to this spot

 

Something about this assembly in this elevated and distinctive bit of loveliness, something about the thoroughly unreal contrast with the ugliness spinning around them, something yet again about this creation of them was truly magical, a holy clarity, a flood of elsprights - elevated embodied invading and filling them all - another totally.

 

Perhaps the natural strength and prominence of this lil promontory; perhaps a sudden burst of inner bravery and clarity, combined with their inner el-selves telling them this was the moment to shine and stand strong upon high, to carve out a space at once separate yet completely intertwined with the sphere of humanity - and especially on this surreal Twelve Night of madness, to offer in full display the totally of their view of it all, of virtual separation, of infinite states of balance and purpose — and yes, a view of the timelessness of this current clash of extremes.

 

All of it a gift - theirs received and now offered back - that extra capacity - a blessing and curse - and faced with this sure calamity all around them, an elevation, a recalled strength - a mission and a purpose - drawn together by the gift and grace of such ultimate acceptance and endless and eternal detachment with love for all the sacred souls now swirling around them 

 

Their own Epiphany, their own shared awakening, their own intimacy of knowing sure purpose, now released and empowering, to stand strong against the onslaught and offer hope against the inevitable horrible alternatives - to come together and allow their true el-selves to emerge - to offer their special gifts of infinite understanding and powerlessness combined, to finally find a nexus from which to fully and totally launch their own loving notes across all aspects of reality — a deep sharing - flood of notes of better selves, urgently released, freed, empowered - a Twelve Night Epiphany - a Carol of Ghosts - their shared intimacy - whew…

 

every Epiphany must begin so, with an awakening of souls at all points...

They, the master elsprights, they also all take in the jarring notes of pure madness concentrating in this otherwise sacred and most serene of converging places - a microcosm of the sphere of happenings of this age, an asylum inner voices raging ever further to extremes, digging ever deeper into their own viewpoints and logic systems - and also an opportunity to perhaps stoke and nurture a countering emergence of benevolent triggers - every Epiphany must begin so, with an awakening of souls at all points.

 

And so stoke the spirits arising they do, launching their ethereal spiders and enlisting their fellows among the mob to finally commit their elevated selves upon their sure calling, to share their true purpose, to brave the certain onslaught of madness - to illuminate and awaken and lead the ready along the only sure path of limitless serenity - these warriors of the infinite realm.

drawn together - a deep sharing - flood of notes of better selves, urgently released, freed, empowered - a Twelve Night Epiphany - a Carol of Ghosts - their shared intimacy - whew…

Suddenly still, they stared - at their newfound fellow warriors, at the sparks and flames and smoke, at the craziness that somehow drew each of them together - yes, warriors - totally overwhelmed, each of them, moments ago, now transformed, triggered as one - they each read in the stares of this strange grouping - an inner voice of absolute surety - yes, totality - that extra capacity - a blessing and curse - and faced with this sure calamity all around them, an elevation, a recalled strength - a mission and a purpose - drawn together - a deep sharing - flood of notes of better selves, urgently released, freed, empowered - a Twelve Night Epiphany - a Carol of Ghosts - their shared intimacy - whew…

 

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.

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.