Visiting Stonehenge

8 12 2006

As I approach Stonehenge, I’m engulfed in the mysticism of the place. An other world feeling envelops my soul. My feet float over the ground. I sail along until I touch the bluestones, feeling the pores beneath my finger tips. A haze begins to fill the circle, smokey curls filter the sunlight. I’m lifted upward and perch on a crossbar. Through the mist I watch female figures twist and whirl around a center caldron. After a time one approaches the caldron and begins dipping cups to hand to each figure. Bowing, each retreats and raises the cup to their lips and drinks. Then they circle the area one more time before disappearing to meet their lovers. I am as certain of this as I am that I’m alive. The fog lifts away in wispy strands and I am once more on the ground standing in warm sunshine wondering at the realness of a dream vision.

I linger waiting, longing for I don’t know what.

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