My first vision was after the new moon.
Part of a regular Monthly ritual,
At my feet was a large parchment laid flat.
I thought it was a hide cleaned to make a map.
There were no lines or drawings on it.
As I examined its surface and noticed a discoloring.
Dark spot spreading
wrinkle in the light
bursting into glow
Always growing out
Flaring up, rising
smoke blows away
Ember gives way to ash
Pale white cinder ghost remaining
tiny red glows franticly race on the fringe
the edge of air and energy leaving the scene.
It was raining the day and night of the full moon.
I was joining in on a special effort.
My first time with this particular working and wording.
A Unity Rite, it was suggested that it be done as healing .
What I saw in pouring out these waters and making these prayers was an inversion of my inner vision of the spreading fire of the new moon.
Dropping water wishes washing down and flowing under
Trying to find bottom, puddle bridge connecting, coming together
Liquid weight displaces and fills the hollow empty spaces, till there are none left
Spreading out level and flat it finds its limit and rises slowly along the rim.
Inching its way up, It’s volume is contained, is held and supported by a greater vessel.
Too big to carry around all the time, you can dump a lot into and out of the magic pot.