Nestled
a jewel among monoliths
and village clamour and clang
invites us to meander
in tranquility and ancient
rite.
Lichen and moss, all
phosphorescence and cushion
adhering to
trees, tall and stout and
fallen, rotting in sweet
langour, resigned.
Soil,
sun-warmed embracing
bare feet avoiding bramble
and blackberry and
tender shoots struggle
amidst the great and mighty,
choking ferns
abundant.
Sugary
fragrance, dizzying clutches
tightly watering
the mouth in juicy
berry-laden abandon, low
boughs bending earthward in
exhausted burden.
Birds of many coloured
feathers pluck
the overripe fruit, converse
gaily and spread renewed
life and bounty
elsewhere.
the grove
28th January
Dearest Cecelia,
I am in the gaiest of spirts today. I found my way to L’Enchanteur quite quickly upon arriving in the heart of town. I explained to her my desire to learn more of the Scrolls of Lemuria and the location of the Living Tree.
‘Ah yes, Miss Elizabeth, you are have been well-advised to seek me at this time. Please, walk this way.’
She led me down a narrow path of steps cut into the incline before us. Our way was lit by flaming torches which cast eerie shadows about our feet. We came upon a grove, the Grove of Clementia – its entrance marked by two great trees which grew toward one another in an arch-like formation. Passing beneath the trees branches, we walked among the Birds of Paradise, Olive trees, and breathed the heavy scent of Magnolia which grew within the cool, dark grove.
L’Enchanteur encouraged me to breath deeply and rhythmically to centre myself. As we walked, she explained to me that I would need to still myself if I was to locate the Living Tree.
‘So you will not show me then, Enchanter?’
‘It is not mine to show, but yours to find.’
At once we were upon an ornate stone temple, again, carved from the stone I had seen so much of here. Inside the temple I quieted my thoughts and began to examine the temple’s contents. A variety of figurines and ritual tools made of natural resources, bone, amber and the like, were laid out on smooth slabs about the place. Masks and robes hung on the walls. L’Enchanteur urged me to choos the one which most resonated with my soul. I touched each one in turn. Ram, snake, bird. Not one of them touched me, until the very last. I took the shimmering mask from its place – a shining dragonfly of Mother of Pearl.
I donned the corresponding robe and placed the mask over my face. L’Enchanteur pressed a packet of seeds into my palm.
‘Go. Meditate in the grove. Be still and let the dragonfly be your guide. Before you return to the ship, plant these, nurture them, you will reap the benefits.’
I stepped outside once more and walked to an ancient Olive tree. I sat beneath its silvery branches, closed my eyes and inhaled slowly. As I exhaled, I began to feel lighter than air, and my limbs vibrated with an energy which was not my own. I darted among the trees, swift and sure until I lit upon one at last. Here was the Living Tree, I was certain of it. It was marked by a sigil. My eyes followed the smooth contours, memorising the sigil’s form. This symbol would lead me to the one I sought.
I centred myself once more, gathering my senses together, one by one. I opened my eyes to find that I was once again beneath the Olive tree. I pushed holes into the soft peat beneath me with my bare fingers and spoke aloud.
‘Snake Goddess, you have charmed me in this place of abundance. Nature’s glory and your favour have bestowed upon me an inspiration and renewal of spirit. Take then, these seeds as a token of my gratitude.’
Armed with my newfound knowledge, I returned my robe and mask to the temple and walked toward the Vulcania with a renewed vigour.
Is this not a cause for great gaiety indeed, Cecelia?
Your
Elizabeth.
