Tuesday, March 28, 2023

Merliz Tales: Crosscombe



Merliz had been at sea for a month and her journey was nearly at an end.  An old friend, Kashi, had gifted her a small oak-paneled cabin to use for the trip.  It would prove to be a calm haven as the ship tossed its way through the perilous Sea.  It came with a hanging bed, a small writing desk, and a chair that were both nailed to the floor.  Further, as a final token of caring Kashi had installed a rough wooden perch for her Falcon, Henry.

Regardless of this luxury, she was hungry for the open air.  The stench of the crowded vessel had infiltrated her body and she knew it would take some days to cleanse the odors of sea living.

She was not even halfway down the landing ramp when she spied the Seeker’s cowl amid the muddle of departing passengers.  He was striding forward at a fast pace and looking up searching for her.  Their eyes met and remained locked as she wound her way through the throng.  Apart from meeting her at the wharf, it was clear to her that there must be other things on his mind.  In short, other business was afoot.

They rode through the night and arrived at Crosscombe in the early morning of the next day. 

The Seeker took her hand and led her through a small garden gate that was framed with wild honeysuckle.  Merliz had just returned from a faraway land and she had not slept well for many nights.  Her inner core was beaming with anticipation for the journey her Seeker was about to take her on.  Thoughts of it had indeed kept her going over the past few months.

The Seeker had arrived two days earlier and had made preparations to welcome her.  He had set out two chairs under the apple tree.  However, when Merliz entered her gaze didn't rest on this area. No, her eyes wandered around the garden wall that enclosed them in this private world. A small, yellow-painted Hall stood to her right, and to the left was a little iron fence with a gate that separated the lawn from the cottage garden. Finally, she smiled when she noticed the village Church bell tower that poked up above the wall.  Oh, how she looked forward to hearing the bells chime.

Her baggage could wait for now, and with a gentle smile, the Seeker led her to their first area of rest.  He walked off, through the old wooden door of the Hall.  She sank down and stared up at the plump green apples that had already begun to fatten.  The bird song began to melt away the pungent memories of the land she had just come from.  That vibrant Country where abject poverty took its place within or among modern-day opulence.  A place where the crowded streets left travelers vulnerable.  Where the noise of life was deafening at all hours.  It took a little while for Merliz to detoxify her mind from the recent memory of it all.

The Seeker reappeared with a jug of summer libation that dripped with fruit and sweet Mint.  The tray he carried held a perfumed liquid concoction of gin, quinine, and spices in a large glass jug, with two fat earthen mugs, a platter of cheese, and some crisp fresh bread.

Here they were at last.  It had been so very long since they had been alone, together, naturally.  It was yet another one of those moments in time when they would cast a mist around themselves, divorcing all interruptions as they had promised.  For the next nine days, they would disappear into their world of childlike discovery.  They would breathe in the ancient places that their kind had visited across time.  Places that held the keys to our very existence - Where spirits wandered freely, encouraging an appreciation of nature hand in the hand with mankind.  They would skirt around any areas that had been bruised by intentional wounding.

They drank and ate but their conversation was overridden initially by the emotion of it all.  Each time she looked into his eyes, her eyes would begin to well up and her mouth quivered until it broke into a smile.  A smile that was accompanied by a shaking head and giggling, the type that enabled streams of joyful tears.  While the Seeker didn’t cry, he laughed heartily with and because of her!

It was as if their time apart had never been.  It was forgotten because they were in the now.

The libation soothed them as the day began to dim.  And so the Seeker took the hand of his most trusted companion and led her towards the Hall.

Candles burnt brightly within as they entered the kitchen.  The walls were painted muted yellow, and jugs of wildflowers were everywhere.  The door on the right led into the main room which was framed by arched stone windows.  She let her gaze travel up the wall to discover where, many years ago, a second floor would have rested.  A large wooden table was ahead of the comfortable seating area in front of the stone fireplace.  She blinked as if dreaming - this room was not for tonight.

He led her up a small staircase passing by a small arched window that framed the Church’s spire above the garden wall.  Up they went until, with much glee, he pushed open the wooden door that led into her place of rest for the next two days.

A large feather bed presented itself in front of a small iron fireplace.  He had drawn the curtains intentionally because he wanted her to rest.  And with a kiss on the cheek and a bear hug, he pushed her down into the bed and told her to “rest little Merliz”.  And she did.

She awoke to the birdsong.  Her body ached but it was not the time to rest.  As soon as she opened her eyes she knew where she was.  Curtains parted, she flung open the windows and looked down and then across the magnificent view.  She was still clothed in her travel wear and finding her case at the end of her bed, she delved into it to find her white cotton nightgown.  Leaving through the door she searched for the washroom which was easy enough.  The water was cold but it suited her.  She was so happy to be alive.

She crept quietly to discover the other areas of the upstairs.  There was only one other door she had not been through.  It creaked as she opened it.  Inside she saw a larger room with three beds, one of which was occupied by her Seeker.  And he slept.  So she went downstairs to the kitchen to begin preparing a simple breakfast.

There was a basket of big brown eggs, some rich red strawberries, and juice.  She filled the large iron kettle with water.  When boiled, she would infuse it with herbs to make a bright morning tea.  But before that, she wanted to discover the outside and so off she went.

Along a small path, high hedges on either side.  It was dawning and she tracked the path of the breaking sun through the gates along the way.  A fox crossed her path, together with a hare and a few sweet rabbits.  She must have walked about a half mile before she remembered that she had left the kettle burning.  And so she began to trot back, bare feet picking out the moss-like bits of the path.  She was being a child again and as she and her Seeker would celebrate the many years they had spent on this earth this very day.

Thursday, March 23, 2023

Merliz Tales - A Journey to the Inn

 



The Seeker was holed up in a small bare room  - all he could afford in the run-down Tavern.  He too stared out at the snow behind the small, drafty, window.

Closing their eyes they reach each other’s senses.  Through the cold air, their hands connected and they pulled each other up through the chasm.

They walked through the doors of the Inn hand in hand.  Past the stone greyhound and into the safety of the reception area where a wood fire welcomed them.

Keys were handed to them and up they went to freshen.  The magical rooms that greeted them filled them with mirth.  Magic was indeed all around.

Within an hour they reappeared having now dressed into their true identities.

He, in a billowing cream cotton shirt with a leather waistcoat studded with iron, the cross-cross of the swede ties left loose, comfortably holding together this gentle man.

She, in a full-length skirt over which hung an intricately embroidered white sleeveless overdress.  She rustled as she walked.

He smelt of fragrant woodsmoke

She smelt of sweet wood-ferns

He was The Seeker

She was The Merliz

Small glasses of Port were bought for them as they sat comfortably within the fire nook.  Chestnuts roasted happily within the smoldering heat and cheese and fruit were offered to complete the whole experience.

On the table sat the journal, a fine quill pen, a small bottle of jet-black ink, and a canister of fine sand.

He was the first to let the words flow onto the page, as she stared into the flames.  No words were spoken.  Just the exquisite silence of understanding, love, beauty, and magic.  He concluded his writings and dusted the pages with sand. 

It was now her turn to allow the dreaming to come through the nib.

Once complete the book was closed without disclosure to either writer.

Raising the small glasses up they toasted the air.  Smiling at each other with the deepest sense of satisfaction.  They rose and walked out into the twilight grounds.

Past a small pond and under a candle chandelier that hung from the branches of an old tree.  On, past the babbling stone fountain towards the Writer’s Haven.  Through the door and into the musty atmosphere of a thousand books, three overstuffed floral couches, and a small iron fireplace.

They were surrounded by words and yet silent.  And they were both so very happy.  They knew then that this moment in time would prove to be one of those memories that would surface when it was needed.  Not a dramatic event, not a remembrance of hysteria.  No.  This was one that emulated true peace and happiness.  They had taken themselves into a haven of quiet and restful solitude.  Simple tones where their childhood memories were free to tumble into each other.

After a few hours, they made their way back past the stone greyhound, past the stuffed peacocks, and the badger and the fox.  Back into the fire nook.

And then the words began to ripple into beautiful language.  And with each story, their eyes wrote out their underlying confidence in each other.  They would never be parted by time, distance, people, or circumstances.  They would end as they had begun.  Born from a unique love.  Born out of the same womb, at the same time.

Mist surrounded them now and they looked down at their clasped hands.  They were slipping away again into the cloud of sleep.   

Monday, March 20, 2023

Merliz Tales - The Seeker's Breakfast



A little breathless she bumped through the kitchen door into the steamy atmosphere.  No harm done and grabbing a towel she moved the kettle down, giving it some relief.  Now the only thing she needed to find was an apron.  She knew that there must be at least one here, hidden in a draw.  She couldn’t cook without one as it helped her create the magic that every kitchen deserves.

And there it was.  She found it and tied it on quickly she then pulled a small cloth out and hung it onto the waist tie.  She was now ready.

She hadn’t seen eggs this brown, this big, or this rich in a long time.  She imagined (and was grateful to) the fat chicken who had produced them.  Their shells were thick and it took at least three hard taps before the goodness inside was free.

Smiling she boiled a pan of water.  “Poached today,” she thought. “He would like them”.

And then she sprang into the back garden to gather flora and herbs.  She found a course white linen tablecloth to spread on the table in the main room.  She found fresh yellow wax church candles and positioned them perfectly around.  And she threw open the main door just for effect.  She found the earthenware teapot into which she created a perfumed early morning tea.
   
And he came padding downstairs, smiling at her in her apron and nightgown.  He did not notice her feet which gave away the evidence of her earlier morning walk.
 
He smiled until he saw the eggs that were beautifully arranged on a platter, not the table.  And he declared to her with much emotion and a heavy heart:

“How I wish women would stop trying to cook me eggs.”

Her eyebrows twitched.  And he said something then that just silenced her.  Why? Because one thing she knew how to adapt to anyone’s liking was an egg.  He said:

“Nothing”.

He sat down at the table and spooned himself two of her eggs.  She wasn’t even nervous. He ate and then just smiled.  But she needed an open acknowledgment.

“Yes. Yes. Yes.  Good” he said with a smile.

She laughed and all was made well again.


A Merliz Tale - Spirit


Merliz had been gone for three score years.  When she re-entered her body this time she was much saddened by the extent to which it had not been cared for.  One of the risks of journeying was leaving her core host without influence.  She had left a pure young frame, one untainted by abuse.  She had now returned to a sad thin frame, bent with age with only a small unsteady flicker of light within.

Rather than waste time on judgment, her first thought was to rest for a night so that she could gather the strength she would need to rekindle the mind, body, and spirit  She knew it would take all of her persuasive skills to even get the attention of the tired, abusive, soul.  Only then could she begin the long path of healing that would ultimately bring it peace.

MIND

To begin with, she would need to sit quietly within the mind of the being and listen.  It did not take long for Merliz to hear the turmoil that existed.  She could feel that the dark thoughts were beginning to preside more dominantly, and the "willpower" to survive had been almost completely vanquished.  And Selfishness, without care of consequences, stood defiant.  These negative elements had sensed the intrusion of her presence within their domain.

The hours had passed and once she had heard enough, she slipped into a kneeling position with head bent and hands clasped.  The dark ones had expected her to rise up to face them, with hard-staring eyes.  That would have been entirely too dramatic.  Lifting her head slightly Merliz looked up and quietly whispered "I come to claim her back".
  

BODY

Clearly, the body had endured years of work, with little attention to health.  Merliz sensed that the lungs were tainted and the liver had been abused.  The slight frame showed signs of wear, and the back was crumbling.  The heartbeat was strong for the two children she had born, a brother, and her familiars.  There was a clear desire to heal .. the body was willing but the mind was weak.

SPIRIT

The Spirit was indeed vibrant, and as such hope for overall recovery would be easier.  The healing of a resistant Mind and Body depended upon the persuasive art of the Curer.  Whereas, the Spirit was wholly dependent upon the person's intense desire to live and be remembered as deservedly treasured.  


She Sleeps by The Seeker



She sleeps...
I, wraith whispering, enter
Skimming starlight, softly tread...
Gently gaze, look down...
Innocent girl, angel-white,
Raven crown on pillows softly spread
Sheathed in slumber eyes that slay my heart.
I breathe and drink the scented air
From breast distilled and parted lips expelled.
Senses swim.
Wrapped in warmth from shining skin
Auras merge, she dreams
Hovering here no shadows stalk
Just love. And me.
I watch and ward then drawn by dawning light..
Flow silently away..
She wakes..
She knows..


Soft April Mysteries

















Roaming, she was

Across ancient yet familiar lands
Caught by pungent memories
A time gone by, yet it reached forward into the present

Ebbing then flowing back
To finish .. To begin again .. or to continue
Swept along by contentment
A path of knowledge, that could only swell her imagination

The very essence, it was
Done too soon, too early in the wheel
Based upon firm foundations
A fleeting taste of what could be or what could never be

In the end, she was pulled back
Leaving behind a stone
Something that would bring about again, perhaps
Soft April Mysteries


The Land of January















Ticked over into a New Year of undiscovered magic.
We are in the land of January.
Waiting.
Tallying costs.
Begging for insight into the coming year.
"Why is December so full of might?"
He makes us forget for a moment in time - quite simply wonderful, simply sublime.
Dear little January, stuck forever between outrageous December and the Heart month of February.
I appreciate you.