Dreams of Samhain

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Religion and Spirituality  |  House: Booksie Classic
A Samhain dream, where Anajiel dances among faeries and remembers a home from long ago. Merely a dream...or was it?

Submitted: November 10, 2009

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Submitted: November 10, 2009

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I’ve been here before.


The legends always said to sleep within a Faery Ring to dream of their land, but they didn’t prepare me for the vortex I was sucked down into. It was the proverbial rabbit hole and I was the world’s strangest Alice.


I hadn’t meant to fall asleep. But the grass was soft and the shade inviting. It would do my painting some good to sit in the sun I reasoned to myself as I made myself comfortable beneath the swaying branches of the great old beech tree that grows amidst the fields of flowing green just outside of my home. I would close my eyes for just a moment. Only a moment…


Perhaps one would say I dreamed the entire experience, but I have the marks to prove differently. A sweet smell lured my senses into wakefulness and I allowed my eyes to lazily flutter open. It took a moment to focus and regain clarity, but when I had attained it my breath caught in my throat and my heart stopped in my chest as though Time itself held its breath and waited.


Gone were the bleeding, rusting, burning colors of autumn that had faded from my eyes as I slipped into slumber. The sky was shockingly bright, the trees were replaced by rolling hills and my head rested near a heather bush dotted with delicate purple buds. It was their sweet fragrance which had wakened me, so long placed from my experience that it demanded attention, recognition, and reverence as once it had when it grew at my childhood doorstep.


“Sweet God…” I breathed as I sat up and looked about myself in wonder. I had somehow been transported to this parallel place. The wind upon my face was too real to be anything of a dream world and I was held in awe by every sensation. My soul sang as though returned to its origins and I felt indescribably free. I was childlike and I was as wild as the wind that rushed about me when I stood. This strange place welcomed me and I may have wept from the peace I felt had I not been distracted by the next wonder of many I would experience.


She followed a winding path all but obscured from my vision by the long, flowing grass. As she grew nearer to me I noticed she was older and possessed of fleshy curves rarely appreciated in modern times concealed loosely in a fine sheer dress. Pale platinum hair whipped around a beautifully pale face out of which silver eyes danced merrily. “I’ve been waiting for you.” She told me and her voice was all that was light and pure.


“Danu.” I breathed the name without thought and her smile widened.


“You do remember.” She told me. “I am glad.”


“I am dreaming…” I managed to say as she came to my side and looped her arm through mine. I leaned my head against her shoulder for the briefest of moments, reveling in the life that radiated from her and the remembrance she held of me.


“This is no dream, Anajiel.” She murmured and she laughed, a merry sound. “You’ve been gone for too long. Walk with me. Soon you will remember all.”


Her pale hair mixed and mingled with the dark auburn of mine and I found myself marveling at the contrast between the two colors as a child might. The goddess at my side said nothing else, her feet instead leading us both with surety toward the mist-shrouded valley. “You have been missed.” She whispered as the mist enveloped us both, moving with a life all its own, singing to us it’s welcome.


I heard the harp and the sound of water before the mist faded, but it did little to prepare me for the beauty I knew waited.


The woman who rested near the brook plucking her harp strings idly was nude, and she was beautiful. Her flesh was the hue of fresh spring grass and both her hair and eyes were the color of lilacs. She was perhaps three feet tall but perfectly formed and when she noticed my stare she smiled. Her blush lit her cheeks with golden fire and gave the air the scent of honeysuckle.


Danu whispered in my ear, “They recognize you and you are welcome with us.” Other individuals frolicked and played in the lovely clearing and when a fully proportioned man of the same small stature as the others rolled before my feet I paused, smiling at his wild free play, the unabashed way his eyes gleamed gold from within an amber face, his cheeks a blushing purple.


But, as I gazed at him and the others a longing began to pulse within my chest that the pleasant heat within their eyes and the caresses of their hands across cheek and hair could not bring to fade away. As Danu led me amongst these glittering fields with their shining homes and occupants I began to understand why I felt this yearning, this growing discomfort.


I paused, my hand coming to rest on Danu’s arm. She gazed on me and I looked into her eyes with both sadness and rapture. “I do not belong here.” I told her and she gave a small smile before she slowly, reluctantly released me.


“Now you truly remember.” She told me. “Are you certain you will not stay with us?”


I boldly cupped her cheek with my hand. “You and your land are so beautiful, but it is too bright for my sensitive eyes. I need softer skies and duskier secrets.” I leaned forward and I kissed her rosebud lips. “I know that you of all understand this.”


She smiled at me then. “You will always be welcome among us.” She said as she pointed me toward the nearby line of trees and the trail I knew waited beyond the first fringe.


“Thank you, Danu.” I told her before turning my back on the magnificent vision she created.


“I will see you again.” She called after me and there was joy in her voice. I smiled to myself and continued on my way. There was a purpose in my step now and when mist enveloped me again I sighed with the pleasure of it and laughed. This was freedom. This was forever. In the few moments I walked shrouded in mist I remembered an eternity.


As I had the harp, I heard the beat of the drum before the mist parted. It called to me and it lured me, bringing a lift to my step and a song to my lips. It was the beat of my heart and my heart sang to the beat of the drum. My vision cleared and my soul soared.


A fire burned amidst a twilight sky I knew was eternally clothed in the satin hues of indigo and violet. And as my sandaled feet sank into grass the color of deepest emeralds the drum’s beat threatened to bring my soul from my body. I was the smoke from the fire, the dew on the trees. I was the wind and the stars. I just was.


Around that fire people danced, nude and streaked with paint whose colors ran the expanse of the rainbow’s palette. I knew it was the harvest fire around which they danced. Samhain had come upon us all and what I saw was a primal celebration whose magic and energy filled the air like a heavy perfume.


Atop that fire a cauldron bubbled and its sounds were that of a woman’s laughter, deep and rich. The laughter formed into words. “Anajiel. Our child. Join us. Dance as you once did.”


As I watched a break formed among the dancers and pale hands reached out to draw me near and I allowed them to do so. A man with eyes the color of the sky above us and hair the color of the moon dragged his fingers below my eyes and across my cheeks, streaking my flesh with silver. I knew him and him, me.


My feet led me in a dance wild and primal and the song that burst from my lips was melodic and clear in a language I had not known in so very long. And my call was answered by the cauldron and by the dancers. It was answered by the fire and the earth. I gave forth my cries and my cries were returned.


And from that cauldron a figure began to emerge and our mouths formed the prayer and the song that we knew called to her, beckoned her to join with us on this night and bless us with all that was her. Her hair was dry as she rose up and it was the color of dusky silver, the metal of the moon. The eyes that met mine as she emerged completely were an emerald green and red with weeping. The body was pale and it was perfect, and the fire kissed her feet as she walked upon it.


My hands reached out to her and she took them, drawing me up and against her. “Morrigan.” I cried and the stars shone in my eyes.


“My child.” She whispered. “Do you still use the name I gave you that night?”


“It stays near my heart, Mother.” I whispered in return as the tears threatened in my eyes. “I am the angel of the golden hair, I am Anajiel Cinn Óir.”


She smiled at me then and pressed her lips to mine. The rush that filled me was memory and it was passion. It was all that I had forgotten and all that I had never known. When she released me back into the glowing throng of dancers I too glowed and my aura was the color of the moon. I laughed with delight as I looked at hands that glowed so palely, at hair that took on the appearance of dark spun rubies. The woman at my back and the other at my side clasped my hands and together we formed a trinity of emerald, ruby, and flame and our voices were raised in praise and in reverence.


I danced until my feet could not hold me and then they laid me down amidst petals of dewy blue and wheat of the field. It was there that their songs lulled me back into slumber.


When my eyes fluttered open the sunlight of day was gone and the burning of autumn leaves was muted on the branches of the beech tree above me. I sat suddenly and I peered at my hands. I fancied I could still see the glow, wondering how a dream could be so helplessly beautiful and so hopelessly real.


I lifted my hands to my face and rubbed at my flesh, feeling suddenly lost and disoriented. But when I gazed again at my hands my heart filled with joy and laughter burst from my lips.


Silver paint covered my fingertips.


© Copyright 2018 Anajiel. All rights reserved.

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