• Heather

The Sacred Glen

Thorstar sat by the water’s edge: resting, musing, gazing through the haze of the heat rising from the forest floor. Feeling stronger again, regaining strength from his last battles and toil. He watched his daughters dancing and twirling, knowing that time wasn’t cheap and soon they would have the same ideas, games and tricks up their sleeves as their mother, Meesha and their aunts. He admired the accompanying adult women’s form from his vantage point, feeling his desire returning; his fire returning. The familiar longing to be in a woman’s arms, caressing his form and his fury. He closed his eyes and a vision of Meesha and Sansha side by side appeared, his mind clouded by desires but shocked into confusion as the forms merged with those of his daughters as they grew. Breathing more deeply, realising he could direct this fire inward and skyward instead of engaging his peripheral senses. No more his head turning toward Meesha’s temptations of times past and the latest smothering societal norms or necessities. He knew that sickly sweet spiral down all too well. He began to raise his kundalini, it felt like his solar plexus electric popping up into his heart space, almost painful, his hands on fire as the sensation lit up through his throat and merged with the god-head. Sansha, dressed in red, flashed before his eyes, merging with him.

Close-by, cackling broke through his bliss.

‘Can’t a man have some peace for a few moments!’ He spoke sharply with conviction, standing tall suddenly and brushing past the gabbling women.

Gone were the days of feeling obliged to tiptoe here and there, chained to the duties and roles of slave-dom. Things were changing, Sansha’s heart called to him, he could feel her closer, imagine her dancing, spiralling around the fire and skipping through the woodland on her way to visit nymphs, sprites and animal spirits.

It made his heart swell also, infectious through the ether. Please god, stay with me, allow me to retain this clarity, this knowing, this fresh and clear awareness. It felt so comforting. He moved deeper into the forest, the Green Woman’s quiet heart ushering him deeper. He leaned back into the opulence of summer-time surrounding him.

Starlight, his faithful hound at this heels, a loyalty he cherished. She barked and bounded, encouraging him and his aligned thoughts.

‘Thank you girl, yes I see it now, the only way to her is to know myself completely, to cherish this time with myself. As he reviewed his past as an observer – the mirrored landscape from the loch reflecting all he had submerged deep within and so experienced without. He laughed, it felt so simple and special.

He released his burdens and self-castigations as the swallows swooshed around his head, diving and soaring: he felt like he also was learning to fly: ‘Freedom, take me deeper.’ He murmured.

Step by step, finding surer footing in serenity, feeling all the blessings of his life, guided toward his Queen of the WildWoods, Sansha, his ever-love.


Sansha took to her study, her desire to understand and immerse herself in scholarly teachings, she wanted to delve into the unseen mystery and mysticism, the divinely dealt signs and synchronicities leading her deeper and deeper, book after book. As her mind dropped into the wonder of it all, she could feel her radiance expand, aligned with source as The Pegasus had taught. She felt like an innocent child again, discovering new wondrous lights and luminosity in her books and academic studies. She locked the door tightly shut and began to sing, the tones of Gaul melding her mind in synchrony for her journey into deeper knowledge ahead. She did not want disturbances from others seeking her attention, sometimes she felt like a succulent piece of meat to satiate the internal disharmony of whomever came knocking. Sansha understood the process, she and Thorstar were experiencing was not linear, did not need to be explained, dissected, or made to look prettier. Their own steps toward winged radiance spanned over the last 26, 000 years, their soul bond: was sacred and to be revered. Distractions: she did not wish to give them a moment’s thought. God’s work for her was through Socrates, Plato, Pythagoras and Hippocrates: enflamed, enshrined, aligned and on fire with purpose. She knew not what she was seeking, the grail itself perhaps, divine fire fuelled her on to create her paper: a synthesis of qualitative findings in healing from the heart.

In the preceding days and weeks, clarity and coding from Oronos, her fire-dragon dream messenger had come to the rescue whenever she had felt a little lost. Sansha’s bond with Thorstar fuelled her forward. Nothing else could inspire her quest with greater fervour and she gave up feeling guilty about that. The book of lies, she had been fed unwittingly through her lineage so long before. Her truth: their love would blow it all away. The insincere surface trivialities would disintegrate stupefied into silence from the embers of the flame between the twaine. Why should she hide from her destiny, a life of meaning and purpose led by her love through their soul-bond. God divinely directed her course, many couldn’t understand and wanted to linger longer clutching their book of lies. She was falling in love again and somehow, Thorstar and her would find a way to integrate the destined undeniable into their daily lives of familial responsibility.

The whole of the biune becoming cohesive through her open heart and his journey toward knowing and embodying his truest light. His Astral Weaponry Anointing Her Crown of Laurels. Sansha felt nervous anticipation of their New Earth coalescing through the womb of her creation, compelling the wisdom of razor-sharp perception unavailable to most: her reunion with Thorstar emblazoned against the sky and deep within the halls of Amenti.


Sansha’s fervour was interrupted, she had to face her village committee to discuss plans for the use of the estate. Gnawing uncertainty and a sense of defeat gripped her from within, strangulating the sense of courage she wished to feel. Facing a wall, a blanket of stoney faces, uttering rhetoric from learned principles of disconnect. She smiled wryly knowing the faces were mere reflections from her hard-wired blueprint from a line of hardened hearts gone before her.

‘Thank you’ she whispered, beginning to feel elated again, feeling the armour of God surrounded her. The golden nugget she had stumbled upon through her searches within and without glimmered.

‘No thanks – I don’t need to fall back into old patterns of doubt and self-subjugation: pushing down my dreams due to the sound-bites of stone-wall ‘ah-buts’.’ She mused.

Sansha relaxed into dreaming a new dream, integrating the reflection of what she did not wish to experience into stronger conviction and alignment of what worries to release. She felt completely at one with mother-earth and rooted her resolve there, the creation from her visions bubbling and budding beneath the surface.

She sensed Thorstar and Oronos whispering to her: ‘Bathe in the richness that you are. Have faith in our connection and the paradise of new-Eden we are creating through this process’.

A reminder, she was in charge of her own conjuring, her spiritual path leading her deeper into her own perspective of the world, maybe not true for everyone but hers, a vital flame within the harmonic convergence, the tapestry and the synergy of the collective whole. To deviate astray was to reject the god-head. Falling in love with life again, Sansha played with the surf and foam from her oceanic visit later that day. The waves surging, breaking and receding in perfect reflection and harmony with the Lion-heart-beat she felt from Thorstar.


Sansha rode to the sacred glen to bathe in the pearly pools and reflect on the whirlwind of the last days and review her next steps. It suddenly felt like the world she was living in, was responding to her needs, wishes and desires, to her Passion of the Christ-light. Within the Triquetra, the third pillar of the Temple of Soloman – creation made manifest. Her breath blended with the cool breeze in the air through the glen, the roots of the hallowed trees of life winding their ways entwined with the high rocky cliffs drew her forward to touch them: cold, rough fabric for the fire dragon to weave his magnetic fields around the earth. As the breeze rekindled her fire, she felt Thorstar hold her close within his heart.

Her recent encounter with him, something about what happened when they talked. It didn’t make sense, did it even matter? Was it coincidence or was it meant to be? Conversation flowed fluidly as always even though months had passed once more. The codices from their voices and the twinned thought-forms exchanged conjured miracles to form through the membrane of the maya as before. Within days, Sansha was sought out and offered a handsome sum to guide powerful medicine makers in the city with her works of study. She no longer felt left out in the cold from the soul-less glare of policy makers and shadow-men, her divine passion scattering and dispelling deceits and division.

Up ahead Sansha glimpsed her new horizon, as all across the earth, she felt her soul-sisters unshackling themselves from chains to join the earth-keepers, the healers, the faith-bringers and the peace-dealers. Meesha too, Sansha intuited, no longer felt bound by dominion, she desired sovereignty and a true-love of her own. Through the dynamics playing out, Sansha learned to co-create with the mirror of her maya. The old ways being released, the old ways washed away with the summer rains. Thorstar continuing to reclaim his radiance.

Sansha sensed that wondrous miracles would continue to over-awe her world as the Age of Light was born anew and it was the vibration of joyful gratitude that permeated the membrane of the maya for the marvels to materialize. Sansha surrendered to success.

In Thorstar, Sansha also saw a softer surrender in the stones surrounding his soul. Although he seemed a little tired and weary from fighting against himself for so long, numbing and dumbing through dazed days dumfounded from integrating the light that streamed in through the cracks. She felt undercurrents of utterings unsaid and misunderstandings building waves of heart-stirrings that he tried to hold tightly back. She felt him lifted from her light and love for him and the low thereafter as he searched for her through the ether, realisations and the domino effect shifting and shaking the sands of his security. Some time later perhaps, some celebrations, leaving behind the fractured sense of the Shekinah within himself. Thorstar heard her call, and it seemed as though on the back of Oronos he flew higher, toward his destined fate and sanctified communion.

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