VERSE
Ouroboros
She looks at the calendar
February 18, Maha Shivatri
The night of the highest vibration
Days of fasting are conducted
Prayers are lighted in honor of Lord Shiva
who blesses devotees
with benevolence and prosperity.
He who dances into the night the Tandava
achieves moksha
the dance that creates all cell,
and the beginning of the Universe
when the first sound was made
“ohm”
It is an impossible dance.
“The last few years it has intensified.” She confides in Shakti, the last remaining Seer of Vijayanagara.
“Beyond vision?” Seer asks.
“It started with cognizant, seeing through people, I can see through their intentions. Know what they are hiding. Detect their sickness.”
“Better than seeing ghosts and spirits.” Seer tries to lighten the mood.
“But now I can feel them. And if I focus harder, I can feel what they’re up to. That, I do not want. I want it to shut down or build a wall around me to keep them out. I don’t particularly enjoy it when it picks up hate and deceit.”
“You can’t, Alexa. You need to reconcile with the fact you can do something with this ability, not fight against it. Work with it. The Gods created everyone with a purpose. Even Medusa had both gift and purpose. You’re an Ouroboros for a reason. Embrace and allow. Allow what flows towards you, never force them away from you. Don’t always fight.”
“Medusa’s a tragedy. To Fight, Seer, is what I’m good at. And being stubborn. That’s how I’ve kept everyone safe, including Him.”
Not even the President can do that much, like he cares?
She had not seen His Diablo V for some time.
Each time He was sent away on a mission by the President there was a possibility of not seeing Him again. She hated that thought.
“A few more years” He had said to her. “A few more years and he would have served the President well and put aside his weapons.”
But until then, each time Diablo V is missing, her heart ceases to sleep. She walks like a dead among the living, suffering by picking up the wretchedness of humans and their deceitful nature and lies to each other through their stagnant and repulsive blocked energies.
Oh, and those emerging charlatans and bogus idiots selling myths on meditation and healing short! Mindfulness program my ass. The blind leading the blind. That alone irritates the Hell out of Alexa, enough that she’d snipe them out if it weren’t for the teachings of Shiva.
We live in an age of so much misinformation and disinformation for salvation we fail to realize we have launched a world war on ourselves by sheer ignorance, desperation and blind faith. The lunacy of life! People are the worst!
“I beg for no further reincarnation Lord Shiva,
No more.
Make this the last of my eternal journey and that I rest on Mount Kailash by your feet.” She prayed.
“Any news about Him?” Seer asks.
Alexa looks into the horizon of the Andaman sea. She sees as far into the ends of the azure as her eyes can capture. The view was breathtaking, but not the next few seconds she was going to endure.
Taking a few deep breaths she locks her mind a moment with Him. His face, his smile, his scent, his hair, his hands.
Like a bullet to the heart, her chest aches. She puts a hand to her chest and adjusts her breathing. The ache intensifies.
She picks up flashes and colored visions. She sees his Mandala tattoo on his right arm that covers his scars. She feels His heart beating. It is strong. Entering the vortex of his consciousness, she sees He is thinking about her in the thickness of his actions. She sees him in a room filled with hanging katanas.
That would be His safehouse in Amsterdam.
“He is fine. Still alive. Fuck this shit. He can go fuck Himself.”
Olivier, standing hidden in the corner of the room, interrupts, “Language Alexandria, language.”
From the Padrona Alexandria Gustav series:
