Descent Into the Great Sea (Rainbow Home #7)

whale2Miramar, She Who Mirrors the Sea, Translator of the Many Songs, resurfaced, smiling and nodding her head, an affirmation of my new-found knowledge.

“I was the HeartSeer all along!” I exclaimed, still high and shocked from seeing my face.

Suddenly I realized that some part of me knew the whole time. Why it took me a hunt for a fire dragon in a cave and crazy journey to the Edge of the West and nearly drowning while swimming out to find a cryptic mermaid to “find out”, I don’t know.

“Always the last to know,” I said, shaking my head.

“Does the full moon ask why it wasn’t whole last week? Does summer arrive mourning winter? The big hard sun and the great sea dissolves all and calls forth new things when they are ready. Everything arrives on time,” Miramar said.

And I knew that I was now ready to descend into the Great Sea. The Obsidian Key was down there somewhere.

“Follow me. I can take you as far as the Sei. He will take you further and faster than I am able to. You will not be able to understand WhaleSong, but I will translate for you.

She applied a gooey kelp bandage to my heel, wrapping it with a seaweed cord, stopping the bleeding. Then she put her spiral shell to her lips, took a deep breath and blew hard. The conch emitted a sound so high-pitched that I had to cover my ears.

I grabbed hold of her waist and we launched towards the open sea. The sun began to sink into the horizon, the sky turning lavender, pink, and orange. After several hours of swimming through the waves, a long and very loud squeal reverberated through the water, like the groan and creak of the sea itself. A giant body emerged ahead of us, bigger than any creature I have ever seen in my life–fins as large as walls, a mouth as large as building.

Miramar translated. He says, “The time as come for you to grow your sea lungs and dive down deep.”

Another raspy ocean shriek, like the sound of steel stretching.

Miramar continued to tell me what the giant was saying: “Grow your ocean ears and bend the ear of your heart closely. Listen for the echoes of sublime bass notes resonating through the fibers of your being.”

I merely floated before this beast called Sei, absorbing the message.

“League by league settle into the soul-tide quiet depths of true voice.”

“Step away from the noise of the middle world and keep falling until you reach the mariana trench of your true self.”

“There you will find the Obsidian Key on Gold Ring, the key to your Rainbow Home. It was thrown into the Great Sea many moons ago, not by the Evil Dwarf King, nor by his henchmen. No, it was you who tossed it aside. Out of fear, out of pain, you abandoned your own home.”

“Further down is a mystery where no one goes, yet from which all emerges.

“To enter, you must leave all behind. You have seen your true face in the water, but now you must leave even that behind, going alone into the trench without image or name.”

“Quieter and quieter yet, the deepest voice emerges, Unborn and Unknown.”

“Perhaps it one voice, perhaps it is none at all. It is not for me to say. Even the Great Sea does not know.”

“Are you ready to risk yourself in deep waters?”

“I am here,” I said.

With that, the mouth of the giant beast called Sei opened. The force of the water rushed in, dragging me into itself.

The last thing I saw was the dark cave of its stomach. Then pure blackness.

With a huge splash of its tale, the beast plunged – with the HeartSeer inside – into the depths and disappeared.

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The HeartSeer at the Edge of Always (Rainbow Home #6)

GCI-13-mermaid-silouette-weGasp! I awoke with a gulp of air the size of my lungs. Above me an endless blue sky. Below me, hardness.

Solid ground!

I was either safe on land, or else on the bottom of the afterlife.

I looked around – a tiny rock island that sloped gently up towards a ridge. I rolled over onto the green, orange, brown, and yellow lichen-covered surface, exhausted, water-logged, and with a deep throb in my left foot.

Suddenly I remembered being hooked and grabbed my heel–blood oozed from a quarter-sized wound. The water slapped the bottom of the rock with monotonous rhythm. But above that I heard humming.

Getting my bearings, I hobbled my way up the slope and peered over the other side.

And then I saw her. A woman lingered at the base of the rock in the shallow water, soaking in the sun.

Jet black hair hung down to her waist, and glistened in the noon-day sun. Her bottom half, partly submerged, reflected iridescent turquiose, blues, greens, and purples, from tiny overlapping fish scales. She was twisting in the water, seeming to rather enjoy it.

She was dark-skinned and bare from the waist up and held a large spiral shell up to her mouth, the source of the sound that had pulled me to the Edge of the West and had lured me out to sea.

I sat entranced for who knows how long, charmed by her beauty and movement and melody.

Something about her told me I did not need to worry about being lured to my death. I saw, or rather felt, a shining, beyond the brightness of the sun on her skin and scales. I worked up the courage to say something.

“Hi. I don’t mean to startle you.” What do you say to such a creature?

“Hallo two-legged,” she answered, smiling. “You didn’t startle me, I saw you swimming for the past 4 hours.”

Her voice rang like pure water, flowed like liquid sunshine.

“I have been seeking you for many moons. I was beginning to think the HeartSeer was a figment of my imagination. ”

“No, the HeartSeer is not your imagination. But I am not HeartSeer. My name is Miramar, she Who Mirrors the Sea, Ambassador of Oshun and Translator of the Many Songs.”

My heart simultaneously lept and sunk. I finally arrived at the Edge of the West, I finally venture out into the ocean, nearly drowned, met a stunning creature of unparalled beauty and liquid voice–but she’s not the who I’m looking for!

“You almost drowned out there,” she said, stating the obvious. Even though she had put the shell down, it felt like I could still hear its murmur.

“I almost feel like I did drown,” I said, “All this is just too strange to believe. Did you save me?”

“We have a saying in the Great Sea, only he who has hooked himself can unhook himself,” she said.

“I didn’t hook myself. Those sea plants grabbed me and a fisherman’s net…”

“As you say.”

“But, you did. You saved me. You brought me to this rock?”

“I merely guided a floating Two-Legged on the edge of the death to shore. The end of your own struggling saved you.”

“Thank you, thank you!” I came closer. “I am in your debt. I’ve come who knows how far from the Redwood Forest of the East to the Edge of the West to find someone called the HeartSeer. I’m looking for my Rainbow Home. Can you tell me anything about it, or about the Obsidian Key on the Golden Ring at the bottom of the Great Sea?”

“Why you be searching for all these items? We have a saying in the Great Sea, ‘Stop chasing, starting creating.’ I think perhaps you could save yourself a long and difficult trip,” she said with a splash with her tail.”I know only of the Great Sea, which is my home. And have not heard of what you seek. What is a Rainbow Home? Do you live in the sky, with the winged-ones? Is not the whole world your home?” She gestured to the ocean, as if that made any sense.”

She continued, “What is a key?”

“That’s a lot to answer. A key is for the lock that was put on the Rainbow Home,” I answered.

“What is a lock?”

“It’s a…a…thing that…without which, you can’t open a door.”

“What’s a door?”

“It is an…an entrance, umm…a threshold….that can be open or closed,” I could see that this could take a while. “I would be more than happy to explain all of it to you, I just want to know if you can tell me where to find the HeartSeer. from which I am to discover a clue to the whole thing. Some villagers seem to think the HeartSeer is a mermaid. You are a mermaid, aren’t you? You must be the HeartSeer!”

“Why have you misplaced this Rainbow Home? And if it is so important, why put something on it that requires another thing in which to enter or open?”

An interrogation-I didn’t know how to answer. “I lost it long ago. But it is where I want to live now. It is my true abode. My village is suffering from a curse, and I want to make medicine to lift the curse.”

“Aghh! A curse?!! I have heard of such things. The Landed-Ones tell such tales. We have not curses in the Great Sea.”

“Yes, we are afflicted with many things, often of our own devising.”

“I am ignorant of such things, but it sounds serious,” she said.

“And I too am ignorant of the ways of the Great Sea. I live among trees and soil and mountains and…”

“Trees! Such mysterious Earth-Footed Ones. Mountains!” She chimed, splashing as she did a hip roll-up on the rocks. “I have longed to visit mountains of the Waterless Abode, having only seen them from afar. They are like giant waterless islands. They are the end of the known world, the Edge of the East.”

I laughed. And couldn’t help be enamored with her way of seeing as well as her beauty.

“I’m sorry for finding that funny. It is not waterless. We have lakes and rivers and waterfalls and rain and ponds….And the mountains are not the edge of the world. There are whole lands over the hills. In fact, I come from a place that is entirely flat many leagues beyond the mountains, full of fields and wide open skies. Not unlike your sky here,” I said, then added, “But I guess islands are like underwater mountains.”

“What are fields?”

“I guess you would say, fields is earth where we grow our food.”

“But how do you live without the Great Sea?”

“I…umm…don’t know…But I could show you. I will take you to the mountains! I can tell you all about them. And fields. And trees,” I was excited at the prospect. For the moment, I forgot all about the pain in my foot and the hunger in my belly. “I am in your service. I will…”

“Alas, I cannot leave the Great Sea,” she interjected. “But maybe you can bring them here?” Her eyes widened with hope. I could almost fall for her in that moment.

“I see your heart’s desire. I will find a way.”

—–

“Aha!” Miramar lighted up, as if coming into some great idea. “I know where be the HeartSeer. Not very far. Come.”

“You know the HeartSeer? Why didn’t you say so!” I said exasperated only momentarily, being overcome with anticipation.

“Come closer.”

Then I remembered: The gifts!! My heart sunk. I forgot the gifts I was to bring as an offering to the HeartSeer. I felt as much embarassment as regret.

“I forgot the gifts,” I admitted to her. “The 7th Born, I mean the Bunny..er, I mean somebody I met in the forest, said I would need to bring gifts: a gift unmade, a gift unbought, a gift unplayed, a gift uncaught. But I don’t know what all that means. I didn’t know what to bring. And what I had with me I lost swimming out there….”

She was only smiling. “I must go now. Be here tomorrow at dawn and I will accept your gifts to offer to the HeartSeer.”

“But I told you, I don’t have any gifts. I can’t…”

But just like that, Miramar disappeared beneathe the water.

And there I was, alone on a rock miles out at sea, under a setting sun, without my gear. Without food. Without my Sea Staff. Without gifts. Without a clue.
________

Only from extreme exhaustion from the day’s events was able to sleep through the night, though it was cold and windy. Dawn on the sea is quite a different experience than dawn anywere else. It comes earlier and comes on slowly, like a creeping consciousness, a progression of slightly larger breaths.

When the orb of the sun was fully above the horizon, Miramar appeared from below.

“Good morning! It’s so refreshing to be able to say good morning to someone, as most of the Great Sea community does not go by night and day in the way of you landed folks.”

“Good morning.”

“Do you have the gifts? I am eager to show you the one you seek.”

“If you are eager, I am doubly so! But I have been here all night, I have no gifts. How could I possibly get gifts? You just disappeared without…”

“hmmppph…” With that she splashed me with a whip of her fish tail. “You must reach deeper into those pockets of yours, Two-Legged. Meet me at dawn tomorrow.” And disappeared once again.

I was stunned. What am I doing here? How can I possibly please this Ambassador of the Great Sea. Could I trust her?

I spent the day alternating between exploring the perimeter of the little island, sleeping, tending to my foot wound, trying to hunt little crabs and fish, and fighting the urge to swim back to shore. I could see the lighthouse at the village. Warmth, people, food, all of which seemed as strong as the siren song that pulled me out here to begin with.

Once again dawn arrived. My gut hurt from eating only uncooked molluscs and dried seaweed in the last three days. I felt delirious and was worried that I began to not be worried.

Soon Miramar surfaced, eyes wide and full of light in expectation. I could see a brightness shining in her. But I could also see a darkness shining in her. The shape of her wound, behind her ribcage, a shadow shining like a rainbow ray, tender sacred wound. And I could see that it was beautiful and it was painful. It was the source of her shell magic, her song, her melody, her smile, her light.

It didn’t make sense, but that is what I saw.

I loved her–in a way I have never loved a person.

But in that moment, I knew that I could never take her to the mountains. Nor could I bring the trees to her. I knew what I had to do.

I stripped naked, stretched out both my arms with fists faceup, and opened them.

“I bring you my gifts: in this hand is Trust, a gift unplayed and unbought, and this hand an Open Heart, a gift unmade and uncaught.”

Miramar merely smiled and motioned me to come closer, then swam over below the sharp drop-off. Wearily, I inched up the rocks until I was at the very edge, and pulled my body up and looked over. Several feet below she re-appeared.

“They are but one gift called Acceptance. And hey are beyond beautiful. Now, watch where I’m going.”

Her gaze pierced mine, a gaze nearly too much to handle.

“Look closely, for When I disappear, the HeartSeer will appear.”

And with a splash she melted under the water.

When the the ripples settled, the surface became clear as a mirror. Looking over the edge, an image began to form.

A man reflected back at me.

I was looking at an image of myself.

 

Swimming the Rock Spiral (Rainbow Home #5)

IMG_5156(1)I awoke with a start on the sandy shoulder above the sea cave, hearing a noise in the night. Wide awake. A silver crescent moon hovered to the south, and a thousand sparkling eyes spread over the Great Sea like a bejeweled blanket.

Since coming to the Edge of the West, I have been a little wary of being a stranger in a strange land, not knowing the customs of the seaside people. Surely, someone had seen the dragon upon arriving. I had no idea how people might react, so tried not to bring attention to myself.

But what I heard was like no animal or person. It was coming from the sea.

Something was in the air, a steady rhythm, sounding like the beat of the cosmic heart above Written across the dark night sky. My pulse quickened. A feeling circulated within. Like love, but different than what I’ve ever felt before, seemed to be pouring into and out of me, waves after wave.

I swear I saw a constellation in the shape of a heart. Then again, I didn’t have my glasses on.

I slowly drifted back to sleep.

When dawn arrived, I was thoroughly soaked from the mist floating off the ocean. I was convinced my night-time soundscape was but a dream, as I had many images visit me in the night.

Ocean waves crashed upon the shore, sounding like a surprise guest, knocking on my door. If I had a door. I felt a bit under a spell, almost like a hangover.

The first thing I saw looking out on the water was a sea otter floating on its back, having a little breakfast. Further out, I saw a whale surface and spout water.

But even above the percussive pulse of the tide, I could still hear that sound, sometimes a melody, sometimes a murmur, soft but strong, sounding a bit like wildfire from the sea, wrapped inside a mermaid’s siren song. As if I knew what a mermaid’s siren song sounded like.

Having done the Ritual of Release last night and set the sacred fabric on fire into the tide, I felt ready to try my chances on the Great Sea, with or without the advice of the HeartSeer. I’d begun to trust my instincts. Often struggling with doubt, I nevertheless had trusted the call to search for the Fire Dragon, trusted the 7th-Born Bunny (even after its brethren led me astray), trusted my search for its cave, trusted myself to pull the dagger out and lead it into the pool, followed my intuition into the sea cave, trusted myself to continue seeking the HeartSeer. why stop now?!

Something about that spiral pattern of those rocks I had seen from the air when we first arrived was calling me. Whether it was my intuition, or a siren song or a bewitching spell, I don’t know, but I was determined to explore those rocks. In particular, the center one.

Of the many tales I heard from villagers about the HeartSeer, one was that she was a mermaid, whose siren song lured hapless men to their death. So that possibility had been percolating in me all month.

I could be one of those hapless men! I knew that, and yet I was still drawn to follow the sound I heard from the sea.

However, if there’s anything I’ve learned since I first set out on this journey many moons ago was that rarely do things unfold in the way that people say or think, myself included. From the fallen redwood trees and silver waterfalls to the puzzling conversation with the strange woman of the north who left a cryptic note in the sand about the Fire Dragon and my Rainbow Home, it has all unfurled quite unpredictably.

This was also one of those days. I had a plan. Yet the plan had its own plan.

My goal was to explore that rock archipelago in the shape of a spiral, which spanned roughly a mile in circumference. I would find my friend the Fire Dragon and he would take me out there.

Short, sweet, safe, and simple.

I went down to the sea cave. No sign of Fire Dragon. Nor was his form as the little boy playing in the waves, which is what he had been doing everyday since we arrived.

Change of plans: I would rent a boat and launch seaward. I would rent scuba gear and explore the waters around the rocks. Though the all the bunnies in the blackberry brush had said that the Obsidian Key had been thrown into Great Sea and settled to its very bottom, I thought that since the source of the sound I keep hearing seemed to coming from the rock at the center of the spiral, that would be a good place to start.

I had no other ideas on how to dive deeper into the ocean, let alone where in the ocean to explore. Based on the word of the villagers, the Great Sea was without end. That sure makes for some long odds for finding something that can fit in your hand.

I searched for a boat to rent. I was informed that as this was Quarter Moon Day, no one took to the sea. It wasn’t exactly forbidden, but at the very least bad luck. I was willing to take my chances, as I didn’t really have an alternative. Walking further to the north, I eyed a fisherman loading gear into his vessel from the dock. He must have been either ignorant of or unconcerned about the Quarter Moon taboo.

I waved towards him. He didn’t see me.

“Hey!” I yelled, waving frantically.

He promptly ignored me and launched his vessel in the opposite direction.

I had missed the boat. Once again, I updated my itinerary: I would swim.

The distances between rocks was significant, especially for a lake-swimmer like me, not used to the strength and rhythms of the sea. I would have to swim to each rock, rest and catch my breathe, and continue.

I continued to hear the murmur, floating on the sea-blown wind. It now sounded like a drum, or a humming thrum, like it was calling mountains to the sea. Like it was preparing for dancers to emerge and twirl on the waves.

Well, here goes nothing, either I’m finally been drawn by a mystic song to my death, I’m imagining things, or else I will meet the person or creature who will help me dive deeper in the Great Sea. If it’s the former, I hope I at least get a good look at the source of my demise. If it’s second, then I’ve got worse problems than death. If it’s the latter, which is my hope, then my problems may just be starting, not ending.

I fashioned myself a staff from drift wood. Finding a bottle on the beach, I cut it in half, and tied it on one end. The other end I sharpened to a point. Around the stick I wrapped my inflatable sleeping pad. The stick would serve as spear, paddle, flotation device. I called it my Sea Staff.

I launched myself into the waves, with my Sea Staff ahead of me, kicking doggy-style in earnest toward the first rock. Not a glorified way of entering the Great sea, but so far effective.

Within twenty minutes, I arrived at the first rock, a dark chiseled block covered sporadically with bright green moss. It was sharply cut from the sides, there was no way for me to find purchase on it.

I was forced to continue paddling without rest to the second rock, a distance of a few hundred yards, cutting a wide arc. Then the third and fourth and fifth, similarly spaced, neither of which presented anything out of the ordinary.

The sixth, which formed the outer limit of the spiral, was approximately two miles from shore. No source of a song found. No creatures other than the occasional black cormorant and empty shells glued to the surface that had been picked clean by birds.

I was getting tired. My body was tempted to cut across horizontally, but for some reason my mind prohibited the idea. I felt an overwhelming need to trace this spiral. No shortcuts. Even above the steady drone of the waves, I could still hear that same enchanting murmur. My heart swelled with a love unlike any I’ve felt before. My muscles strained, and so cold, it was this sound that kept pulling me forward.

The wind picked up and the waves began to swell. I feared I was getting in over my head. That I jumped in feet first to something way bigger than me, something I didn’t understand and didn’t have the capacity for, that would swallow me whole. That I had made one colossal mistake after another, doubting I going to find anything out here. That I should have just stayed in the redwoods, better yet, stay in the House of Willows. I could have just as easily done the Ritual of Release anywhere else but the Edge of the West, could have just as easily built a fine home in the forest. Could have easily not set out to find this HeartSeer. Could have easily ignored this sound from the sea.

Why did I leave the safety and comfort of the village?

I swallowed a mouthful of seawater. I held tight to my Sea Staff to stay afloat.

Suddenly, something brushed my feet. Seaweed, I hoped.

Then, I realized, it WAS seaweed. I was in the midst of a seaweed forest, its flowing leaves wrapping around my legs like tentacles.

And entangled among the sea plants was a stray fishing net with hooks.

I tried to fight the instinct to thrash about, but it was dragging me beneath the surface. with every kick I became more entangled. One of the many barbed hooks on the net caught me in the heel of my left foot.

I attempted to use my Sea Staff to pry it loose, and managed to tear it loose, leaving a bloody gash where the hook was.

Then one of the hooks punctured the sleeping pad around my Sea Staff. What buoyancy I had was immediately lost, and I struggled to keep my head above the waves.

The mind does funny things when it is panicking. Time slows down and all sorts of thoughts race through, an odd combination of pure survival instinct and the mundane.

This was it, I was going to drown here, just miles from shore, I thought. Did I remember to send that letter? Perhaps I could survive on just seaweed. Would anybody find my body? And if so, what would they think I had been doing out here?

Either way, surely my bloody wound in my foot would attract a shark or an orca. Or just get nibbled to death by smaller fish. I think I’d rather my body go to feed larger numbers of creatures than just one big creature. I’m undecided. I’m just grateful its not by squirrels.

“Wilson, I’m going to kill you tell you’re dead, I’m going to punch you in the eye!”

For some reason those Phish lyrics and three pelicans gliding not far above me were the last things in my consciousness before blackness.

Inside the Sea Cave (Rainbow Home #4)

IMG_4993When we first arrived at the Edge of the West, the Fire Dragon had soared out over the Great Sea. Seemingly endless cliffs stretched in one direction, countless beaches in the other, punctuated only by outlets of various rivers and solitary trees that appeared like sentinels keeping watch over the land.

The entire time, I was still in the grip of the Fire Dragon’s talons (contrary to what you might expect, there was no “riding the dragon”. In fact, I think it would be exceedingly difficult, given the nature of its “skin” or plates, which are very slick.)

Below us in the bay was a series of small islands, or rather, big rocks of various shapes and sizes, jutting out of the water. Each carried a different hue, some were white with red striations, some green and white, others dark brown, and some completely covered in black mollusks. But what struck me about this archipelago, was that it seemed to form a pattern: the shape of a giant spiral, like a golden ratio. Something about it fascinated me.

Later, when I was on shore, it was impossible to see this pattern. I only knew of it from that higher perspective.

The other early discovery was a sea cave, cut into the crevice between two cliff faces. Apparently the Fire Dragon is a natural at finding caves, its go-to resting place, so that is where we first landed. With a wide opening, the cave narrowed quickly. How far into the land it went I didn’t know. The tide was rapidly approaching, making a full exploration of the sea cave impossible that first day.

But I noticed images and runes of various sorts carved into the walls. Above the mouth of the cave, in enchanted yellow letters, it read: Follow Your Intuition.

My intuition said, “Get the hell out of there before the tide comes in and drowns you.”

Meanwhile, the Fire Dragon has been making a home of it by night. During the day, the Dragon as little boy mostly just swims. Meanwhile, I have made my home just above the sea cave on a little flat embankment along the cliffs.
_____

It’s week four at the Edge of the West: still no sign of the HeartSeer. Only tall tales and misguided attempts on the part of the villagers to be helpful. Depending on who you ask, the HeartSeer was either: a pirate on the bay, a handsome prince, a flying sorceress on the edge of the forest, or a mermaid at the point of the spiral.

I have begun to think that HeartSeer is perhaps like the Rohrsach test, people fill it in with whatever they see.

While I have not found the HeartSeer, I have seen three hearts scattered across this landscape.

First there was a heart drawn in the sand on the beach, declaring intent of matrimony. Then, a heart etched by a human hand into the sandstone cliff, declaring affection for genitalia. Then, most marvelous of all, a heart impression in the sandstone rocks, formed by the power of the tide. It seems that even the sea and the shore write love letters to each other.

The three hearts convinced me to finally conduct a Ritual of Mourning and Releasing.

Yes, I’ve taken to conducting rituals. Primarily grounding rituals or ceremonies to move or transform energy. Since I witnessed with the Fire Dragon turning into the boy and back again, I have found it increasingly easier to feel and channel energy.

I was determined to do the ritual in nature, and from the first day here I knew exactly where: the Sea Cave.

You see, several things have recently fallen away from me, some dropped like autumn leaves, some swallowed like a building in an earthquake.

In fact, not too long before my journey to the North River and the Redwood Forest of the East, I had been served up a delicious platter of organic and locally-sourced change, marinated in a savory sauce of raw energy and dead beliefs, with generous sides of spicy sauteed shadows and trickster love, all washed down with a complex brandy distilled into sweet ambrosia.

One loss was a lover. She was a Firenado, streaking across a strawberry lovescape with no horizons and I was a mere Oak Tree, sending roots deep into the earth – different ways of being in the world. Something was bound to go awry. We were mixing genres from the first note.

But by the time we discovered that, we had already seen rainbows with each other. That’s not something you can just pretend you don’t see, believe me. And so we had quite the series of adventures together, melodically meandering on rivers and roads, creating redwood fairy lullabies under hot full moon skies, and building secret things under a mama creek sunrise.

Of course, there’s all the woulda, coulda, shouldas. But how do you stop the growing corn? We had already pressed play on a trickster soundtrack: I was a walker, she was a dancer. She was a singer, I was a writer. My feet and words were in motion, while her heart and body were in motion.

In time, my walking slowed down while her fire burned dimmer. We were both musicians, but I couldn’t find the bass line, and she couldn’t sing all her notes, and they were well out of my range. Not sure we could ever settle on a key. The sound of our sacred wounds interlocked too well.

When the bards of the future sing the tale of this romance of two star-crossed genres, they will do doubt sing that she had caught me first. In fact, pinned me down on a beach up on the Peninsula of Love I don’t think I could ever return the favor and pin her back. Not for lack of trying–a sunset, storm, or subtle mood are much easier to catch. I’m a pretty good boulder-hopper, but she jumped from one rock to the other like a breakdancer on an archipelago of desire.

Sometimes you just lose the melody, by accident or by design, like the part of the song where all the instruments solo.

Even the best musicians lose the rhythm from time to time. With good luck, a great song can resolve the discord and rediscover a major chord. But we weren’t able. Sometimes the music’s over or it’s a different song than you thought or hoped for all along. Perhaps we’re all still learning to write a song right. Freedom and form form the song.

Ultimately, I don’t know what happened to Firenado–probably spun off into the horizon, fire a’blazing, as is her way in the world.

And now here I am conducting a ritual in a sea cave at the Edge of the West. I took a sacred purple fabric in with me and a match and sat in the solid darkness of the cave. Nothing to do but feel into grieving, commemorating love, forgiving, apologizing, thanking, and letting go. With a handful of wishes for those who are hooked and everybody in need of healing.

No magic wands. Only a few sacred words and the barest of elemental magic–I lit the purple fabric on fire.

“Goodbye, sweet love,” I said, as it flared in the night.

A beautiful red-orange glow danced on the walls of the cave.

With that I let the fire fall into the rising tide.

A heart appeared among the flames, just before extinguishing. I took it as a sign: tomorrow I would enter the Great Sea.

At the Edge of the West (Rainbow Home #3)

IMG_4973I’ve arrived at the Edge of the West. The Great Sea is gorgeous beyond words. It beckons.

And I must say, travel by Fire Dragon is much more dignified than Greyhound, even if it is in the grips of razor sharp talons. (What I learned en route from the dragon about its wound and the transformation and other things is its own tale, forthcoming)

I’ve asked around among the villagers here for the HeartSeer, who supposedly has a clue on how to recover The Obsidian Key on the Golden Ring at the bottom of the sea that will unlock the door to the Rainbow Home.

Most don’t know anything about it. Some think I am saying Arts Ear and direct me to the craft shop. A handful of people give me definite answers, though all conflicting.

The HeartSeer is, alternatively: A wise (or dangerous) magician who lives up on the hill at the edge of town, living off grasshoppers and peering into the hearts of the unsuspecting, either to steal or heal their souls or to tell their fate.

Or she’s a sorceress who lives in the forest, juggling fire and flying through the air.

Or he’s a drunken homeless man who whistles incessantly.

Or she’s a mermaid that lives among dolphins, alternatively tempting men to untimely deaths with her siren song or helping ships navigate uncharted territories.

Or a pirate. Or a prince.

Having given up on the wisdom of the locals, I was tempted to just head out on the sea now, unaided by some fantastical creature. Perhaps the HeartSeer is yet another flight of fancy, or some other misinterpretation of what the 7th Born had told me.

Besides, there’s the matter of the required gifts. 7th-Born said I would need 4 gifts: 1 unmade, 1 unsung, 1 unplayed, 1 unstrung.

Having no idea what the hell that means, I decided to check in with two merchants along the boardwalk. Neither had anything like that, nor had heard anything like it. The second one told me to get lost.

I said, “Working on it.”

But he didn’t get it.

I could, more easily, rent a boat, some supplies and scuba equipment. I am a certified scuba diver. Yet the furthest I’ve dove is maybe 100 feet. And that was in clear (and warm) Caribbean waters.

But the Bunnies had said it was no doubt sunken to the very depth of the sea, drifting into the trench that stories of the western lands say split the Great Sea in two at unfathomable depths.

What was I thinking!? I’ll drown within minutes.

No, I’m going to walk the shore and hang with the seagulls and sea lions. If I’m lucky, I’ll catch a glimpse of dolphins. If I’m really lucky, I’ll see a whale surface beside them.

If I’m really, REALLY lucky, I’ll figure out how to find the HeartSeer. If such a thing exists. At this point, I’m skeptical.

Though what 7th-Born had told HAS come to pass, in a manner of speaking.

For now, I’ll be listening to the sea.

Ebb and flow.

The waves keep coming.