Events on one's timeline will always reflect the realm they are in. I sense a texture in the field, and my gaze is drawn upwards, away from the beguiling embrace of my beloved allies. The totem of the Dragon appears, reflecting the timbre of Light and the avatars I am to meet in this unplanned confluence.
Once again the otherworldly Kira Kushnirova graces the Path, intersecting with Zenergy and myself beneath the sacred Tree at Mimosa, the Angel's Rest.
She touches me then, trailing a falling tear of sacred oils across my forehead. I can feel her finger approaching, the air bending in it's wake, the scent of the deva of the oils mingling with her moisture. Her fingers graces me, leaving the enchantment of Essence, of womanhood, of sanctity, of devotion and delight, the fragrance remains, long after she departs.
"This is the nature of it" I tell my fellows. And it is. The ointment is magickal, I can feel the harmonics within it's construction, the elements of the Aina of it's Song. Yet it is her hand that delivers it, her embodiment that holds the space. As with Zenergy, radiant in the rainbow scales of the Dragon, it is her very essence that gives the value, empowering the oil with her Grace.
Such is the nature of all things, made more potent by the hands and Heart of their bearer. To receive such a blessing from the Lady of Ladies, met in Angel's Rest on the Solstice, is auspicious to say the least.
I watch, as she aligns the energies, tracing patterns of sacred virtue across our skin like momentary hieroglyph. In the Mythica, I watch her scent, the colours of that delicious attainment, make their way across the ethers, softening us to whole.