I often dream of magic and Craft and connected kin
I dream of sisters sitting round a flame
I dream of a world far away
Visited only in my dream-walkings

I wonder why I go there
All so familiar but at the same time unknown
The ladies look to me for guidance
With clear questioning eyes

They gather round with questions
Bringing a new sister to our gathering
I light an extra candle, one flame among many
I ask how it was she came here

She was told of this gathering at another circle
Said she would find her true self here
Ah yes, I nodded, folks there, do gather here
In our inner circle. Be welcome dear sister

We gather in the light of early evening
The day is still warm and the evening is peaceful before the sun goes down
Come sister let me tell you about Craft
About choices, about honour, about roads to take

She looks at me with gentle eyes, waiting for more
Hungry for more
My truths I share, of other lives lived
The sun goes down, the air is perfumed and she is enthralled

I awake suddenly to my mundane world
Trying to analyse my thoughts, to gather up the threads I had woven
No sense could I derive, ready to dismiss my dream world
Then something, a voice, a thought, a feeling made me go back through that still open door

I realised I knew that place, knew those peaceful serene ladies
I knew I belonged there, knew it was home and had travelled there, time and time again
A dimension not far from this one, where I had taught so many times before
But so different

I re-joined my gathering, the waiting ladies expectant
We talked and shared into the night around the spiralling flame
We spoke of honour and of kin, I shared true knowledge as taught to me and of what magic really is
We laughed and we cried and I knew I truly existed within this truth.

 

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