lights and hope of the Solstice, they do indeed start to hear, to see, to grasp…
…these very same tormentors, in addition to all of the harm, are also provoking: our loves must be saved… detached and immersed their voices cry: don’t know where this will lead, don’t know if we will survive…
…at the moment of totality, as magic, their inner els emerge in company with others - of the vapors and ether - pure warmth and strength and love…
…they are collectively transformed, all forward, elevated, apart and wholly together.
As they finally turn in on Christmas Eve, not yet so ready are our two - in the same blur as the rest of their band, but much more extreme….
… Beyond exhausted and spent they all are, but Nez and Bah still can’t submit…
…can't yield to allow the elsprights their place within their own - whew, it just hasn’t been their style, their way.
And so they retreat to their beds, with much farther to fall, to let go, to face - tossing and turning both, their minds fully alive with these voices in the wee hours of Christmas…
…so many encounters they have had, all melding together in the craze of fitful slumber - with wily elves and ugly tormentors and playful sprights - and now each other…
…all of their inner el voices forming - conversing and aiming their powerful magic at the critical points of the raging conflict - the two most polarizing elements…
…they are particularly out of control this year - he in particular is doing great harm - he always seems to be in a state of torment and worse - he is infecting others with his craziness…
…she is much the same, in an opposite sort of way - such is the chaotic reality…
…neither of them… neither of us… my word... we didn’t used to be this way... years of shocks have built up fears and have conditioned him… her… to lash out… to freeze up… it used to relieve for some time, but now it is almost continuous…
…only hurting himself - herself - ourselves - but no longer - and my god, there are so very many just like us - clear from this vantage point…
… and with the connection abilities of this age, this a madness that is spreading rapidly - that’s why we are intervening…
...pure meld, totality of spirit, all the voices in play, in place, a fleeting moment...
…the holy eve had begun with their explosion and the fragmenting of their noble cause, and then progressed and built as they resigned themselves to a restless sleep with a bewildering swirl of notions invading:
I think he must live in constant torment - you know how we get sometimes at night - that’s him all the time - he didn’t used to be that way..
She get’s so frustrated - she is so passionate - was ready to explode at the very next perceived hesitation to act - she is hurting so…
Where does this come from? - tormented by her now…. by him now…
Be they ghosts of Christmas, or the other very real aspects of the soul in different forms, theirs are surely swirling together with the spiritual emergence of this holy night…
…not just the two key drivers of their noble clan - but all of the gentlefolk that are part of their sphere…
…one by one, as the masters have worked their magic, as their missives have woven and struck, they have submitted to the tormenting elements, have given up “ghosts” and thus released the ugly spirits that have progressively divided them…
…and now as the most sacred of dawns nears, the two at their center, they are letting go, finally, and with it the grace that is the gift of this day begins…
Like nothing else - Christmas morning - all stirred by this offer of renewal and of sun - brilliance after haze - rainbow after storm…
…another gift - purity of strength, spirit - all is serenely clear and in place…
…the elsprights, the spirits, the ghosts - they have left their mark - fully emerged and open - the buzz of the masters and their missives is still welcome - nay required - and the calls begin - the notes are sent - their sphere fills with their need to see it through, to regroup…
…and they do - virtually all accepted to gather - warily and hopefully…
… drawn and lured on this precious day - a venture at noon…
…maybe it's the sunshine off the fresh, undisturbed drifts of new snow - maybe the magic of Christmas - it is finally here, the most beautiful of days - maybe the effect of their tumult on the never ending Eve…
…it was surely surreal, a seemingly infinite variety of aspects of reality, touching them all - forces way beyond their norm were at work…
…and there were, indeed, voices - each others, the carolers all day long, and those others - seemingly from within, stoked and encouraged, felt by each and everyone of them…
…defying all odds, all convention - the aspects of the Whole - the Carols of Christmastide are given and received - elevated spirit reigns for a sacred, awesome, holy time…
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