The Rainbow Rings Of Time 361e16

The Rainbow Rings of

Time

Suzie Townley

Illustrated by Corinne Randall

Austin Macauley Publishers

The Rainbow Rings of Time

About the Author Dedication Copyright Information © Acknowledgements The Rainbow Rings of Time DO Red Ring of Summer Fire RAY Orange Ring of Summer Mountain ME Yellow Ring of Harmony FA Blue Ring of Autumn Water SO Green Ring of Leaves LA Indigo Ring of the Flying Bubbles TI Violet Ring of the Four Gates DO The Silver Ring of Winter Yesteryears The Gold Ring of Roses

About the Author

The author grew up in a small cottage in Somerset, England. As a child she loved dancing, singing, playing the piano and violin, and writing stories and poems. Later, after pioneering a research project at the Pestalozzi Children’s Village in Switzerland and graduating in Psychology, she emigrated to Canada where she lived and worked in many different provinces. But having an adventurous spirit, she eventually gravitated to the wilderness of the Kootenay Mountains of British Columbia, living amiably with wild horses and the occasional bear. This is where she wrote this book in 1972. Returning to civilisation in England after a few years, she qualified in several therapeutic disciplines, and resumed playing the violin in symphony orchestras.

Dedication

I dedicate this book in loving memory of my exceptional parents, and also to my three wonderful children, Leah, Laurie and Caeli.

Copyright Information ©

Suzie Townley (2021) Copyright © Corinne Randall

The right of Suzie Townley and Corinne Randall to be identified as author and illustrator of this work has been asserted by them in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publishers.

Any person who commits any unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

A CIP catalogue record for this title is available from the British Library.

ISBN 9781786930385 (Paperback) ISBN 9781398406537 (ePub e-book)

www.austinmacauley.com

First Published (2021) Austin Macauley Publishers Ltd 25 Canada Square Canary Wharf London E14 5LQ

Acknowledgements

My eternal love is given to the many friends I found in the different countries and cycles of my varied life journey.

Also I give my heartfelt appreciation to my son, Caeli, for patiently transcribing my original manuscript.

The Rainbow Rings of Time

Once upon a no time, there was a very, very tiny rose-seed whose name was Tuli. Tuli had big blue eyes like the sky and long golden hair like the sunshine. And she lived in the fairest warm rose flower home that you could ever dream of. By day she feasted on the morning dewdrops and the velvety smell of soft pink petals, and by night she danced happily among the twinkling laughter of the silver stars. As you can imagine, this land where Tuli lived was a very special land which was very, very, very far away from here. And in this land, there were millions and millions and millions of red velvet roses growing beautifully everywhere. And sometimes it rained very gently, but always a golden light would keep shining and shining forever and everywhere, except, of course, when it closed its eyes to play a game of hide-and-seek with the stars. And so the rose-flowers and their children-seeds never faded or died because it was forever summer-time and it never got to be winter when all things grow cold and old. And so it was a land that was more than most especially magic, this land of golden light and roses where Tuli rose-seed lived. Now, Tuli didn’t know this, but a big surprise was just about to happen to her, rather like a birthday present that all of a sudden arrives out of the blue and you can’t guess for the life of you who could possibly have sent it. Well, this particular surprise that happened to Tuli was that she was going to begin a great new adventure that would take her into many new lands which she had never seen before. In fact, there would be new worlds, all sorts of worlds, worlds inside of worlds, because the forever summer land, where Tuli rose seed lived (and who was more than most especially magic) was made only out of love, and the worlds he wanted her to visit on the adventure were all his many love waves rippling, and upping, and downing, and sparkling and flowing from here to eternity (which is a little bit further than you or I or Tuli put together could almost imagine, but it was true).

And thus it happened because the magic summer land was longing to show Tuli so very, very many new worlds, he couldn’t keep it a secret a moment of sunshine longer. All of a startle he let out all of his breath in one great blow, and little Tuli was lifted right completely out of her beautiful warm rose home way up over the other flowers and the leaves until she was flying high in the big blue sky. And just then the wind stopped blowing her, and everything grew very still and silent, and a single raindrop fell out of the sky, and Tuli held its hand because it looked as though it knew where it was going, and together they floated down and down towards a great huge field of newly tilled brown earth. Through the raindrop, she could see the furrows dancing in soft colours. Then, “We’re here,” called the raindrop. “Follow me,” it said…and promptly disappeared. Where? thought Tuli, Where did she go? And all of a sudden she felt lonely. The wind carried me away from my wonderful pink velvet home, without even asking what’s more, and now I’m all by myself with nothing here except these big brown… She gazed up at some clouds vaguely hoping that some kind bird would offer her a ride back if by any chance he might happen to be going that way. And all of a wonderful then-time, a big Yellow-Orange blew into the sky and touched the seed with millions of tiny radiating fingertips. Tuli glowed with delight and even dared to bounce up and down a bit all by herself, for now there was a big new friend who was undoubtedly a great King who lived ever so far away in the great high beyond, and on this particular day, he was quite obviously paying special attention to Tuli. And even though she knew she could never touch him, yet here he was, all around and up and over, and inside and outside, and underneath her, being kind and warm and loving her with all of his being. And then he did the most magical thing in the world. He spoke to her, but not from up there where he was. By no means, for he was more high than Tuli could ever imagine bouncing even if she got very, very happy, and practised for nine seed cycles. No, the big Yellow-Orange’s voice was actually talking to her on her inside right in her very middle. Very gently, like a quiet warm radiance, he

said, “Tuli, my little one, and best-beloved child of my heart, I want you to go on a very special journey for me. It will be your first adventure into a world, a world where you will be able to see all of your thoughts be made into alive visions and all of your wishes come real. I want you to me all the time because although I must always be here in my high beyond, yet I will be shining warm inside of you too, and whenever you want to talk to me, you will find me there as close as your very own heart.” And so saying, the furrow on which Tuli had been bouncing, gave a big secret smile, just like she had heard Yellow-Orange speak like this from all ancient eternity… Very still and quiet now, like a flute calling through a whispering reed, or a faraway wind blowing through a seashell, the very small seed in the middle of a very big field heard him saying, “I love you, Tuli. We shall see each other again. Come back home to me whenever you will, for you will have much to tell me on your return.” And trembling right through her like millions of small diamond waves, the words, “I love you…I love you…I love you,” penetrated all of her small being. And then she felt herself slowly sinking down and down into the earth, and everything growing darker and darker, and rather frightening because she couldn’t see very well. And something feels all damp too. She was rather put out. Big Yellow-Orange had promised this was a very special journey, and now she was kind of wet and cold. Very despondently, she opened one eye just a little bit and closed it again right away. “Oh dear, what a big tunnel I’m in, it’ll never end; it’s like big high mountains with holes through them. And everything so dull and…” oh, she shivered, and sat down, flop, with her head in her hands. “Please don’t cry,” a small voice was right beside her. “I could take care of you if you like. My name’s Twiglet.” He perched up tall and thin beside her, and extended a rather scraggly small branch. Tuli looked up and he laughed and hopped around her happily. “I see you’ve only just arrived. Everyone’s like you when they first fall through the smile. But then after a while, they all get used to it and even get to like it quite a bit down here. After all, there’s lots of things to play with. Why even today me and my friends are almost finished building a big earth castle with all kinds of battlements and fortresses to ward off the enemy.”

Tuli looked startled. “What’s an enemy?” she enquired, puzzled. “Oh that’s just pretend, it’s not a real enemy, not like the big people have,” he said. “Oh, and anyway, I forgot. I’m always supposed to tell the new ones that fall through the smile to go straight to the river by the roots of the First Tree, to get the…oh well, you’ll see. Come with me.” Tuli followed obediently, she didn’t mind being looked after by such a fellow. In fact, he seemed to be quite an interesting twig even if he was a little scraggly here and there. Away he hopped in front of her singing. He stopped by the First Tree. “Here we are,” he called. “Look, Tuli, over the river, the sun’s coming up.” Tuli looked, and thought it was rather a small pale sun compared with big Yellow-Orange. But it was good to see anyway, and she managed a weak smile and thought, Well, if Twiglet can make pretend castles against enemies, I suppose I can always make pretend suns, and imagine this is really big YellowOrange in disguise. Just then, Twiglet shouted. He was right above her way up high in the First Tree. “This is my family,” he called in a loud voice. “Meet my illustrious brothers and sisters; the family of Apple!” The little twigs all rustled and squeaked, and the branches leaned down to take a better look at such a small seed, and then the whole tree bowed most graciously. Tuli was quite overcome. She squiggled a little and shifted her feet shyly. “How do you do, I’m sure,” she mumbled. The little twigs twittered. Then from the whole tree, there seemed to emerge a most melodious and mellow voice. “Tuli, my dear, my dear, won’t you step inside for a moment. We have something to give you that you must take on your journey, your journey.” Slowly, the great trunk opened a very tiny door just at the beginning of her roots, and Tuli stepped into the house of Apple. All around her felt very ancient and gave off the fragrance of apple blossoms and wood. There was an old round table in the centre, set with nine little chairs, all delicately carved. And each one a different colour. In front of the chairs, set around in a perfect circle on the table, were nine rings matching the colours of the chairs. Tuli looked at them

carefully. First, there was a red one, then an orange, a yellow, then a blue, a green and an indigo, a violet one, then a beautiful sparkling silver and right in front of her a gleaming bright gold. For a moment, as her eyes rested irresistibly on the gold ring, she thought of her very closest friend, big Yellow-Orange. But he seemed a long way away now like a remembrance of some long-ago dream… The mellow Apple voice interrupted her thoughts. “These are the rainbow rings of time, my child, the rainbow rings of time. And you must now take up the first one, the red ring of summer fire and slip it on the index finger of your left hand, for now is the season of summer sunshine and play, and play. The other eight you will find on each of your fingers as you are ready, as you are ready. Go now! Make haste and run down to the river. You will find Twiglet there waiting for you, for you. The sun has almost reached its zenith. You must take your fill of play whilst you can, whilst you can, for when the sun goes down, the ring of summer fire also will be gone, will be gone…..” A ray of bright sunlight filled the house of Apple, and as she was turning to leave, Tuli thought she saw the golden ring rise for a moment, and poise resplendent before her eyes, as if it had a life of its own. And then she shut her eyes from its light and ran out of the door. “Twiglet, Twiglet!” she called. “I’m coming! I’m coming! Where are you?”

DO Red Ring of Summer Fire

Twiglet was always hopping and leaping around and then suddenly disappearing. Tuli stood on the riverbank watching every movement of the grass and the water and the flowers and the trees and listening to the many different sounds that this world was making. Everything’s singing, she thought contentedly. And the brown mountains, even they, too, had started to dance in the sunlight. This world is perfectly lovely after all. Just then, Twiglet gave a cry of delight, and zoomed off a high tree into the water! “That was my bestest dive of all time,” he spluttered proudly as he emerged… looking scragglier than ever! Tuli laughed and bounced into the air, once, twice, three times, and whoosh… into the water. Twiglet extended his strongest scraggles, and quickly braided them together to make a boat for her. And lifted her gently in. The ripples on the river carried them downstream. “I’m sailing you to meet your family, of course.” Tuli wrapped herself in Twiglet’s young leaves and closed her eyes, listening to the music of the river. The ring of fire danced joyously upon her finger. BUMP…!!! “Oo, sorry!” said her friend. “But we’re here, Tuli. Wake up, do! Look, all your family has come down to meet you.” Up and down the shore, bouncing and chattering nineteen to the dozen, were myriads of rose-seeds, big ones and little ones, and they were so excited as Tuli

stepped out of the boat that they all bounced together-at-once, and came flying down out of the air around her. After a while, they settled into a circle on the grassy bank with Tuli in the middle, nudging each other and whispering. Then the biggest one spoke up.

“Tuli…rose-see…you…have…been brought…here as our…newest one, for which…we all…give thanks…and welcome your…into…our family fold, and… hope…that you will…always be…happy…amongst us.” She clapped her hands and they all scattered, and ran to their little grass houses on the eastern slopes, returning with long ribbons of many colours, waving and fluttering in the breeze. One brought her violin, another her flute, and a third one a small golden harp. “Twiglet,” they shouted, “Stop hopping around for a second, playing pretend helmsman. You have to come and be the Maypole for our dance of the new birthing. This is Tuli Day, and for her we weave our tapestry of welcome!” Twiglet dug a little hole in the ground and planted himself. Tuli held one of his scraggles tightly. And the Dance of the Star began. It was a sight and sound wondrous to behold, and illumined the lamps of all their very hearts until it seemed they made a bright light reflecting like silvery jewels in the soft flowing river. The music ran through the hills, and the pattern of the coloured ribbons around the Maypole slowly took shape before Tuli’s amazed eyes. Colour upon colour folded around each other, and the rose-seeds bounced back and forth and around. And then it was done. The last chord resounded up and over and into the sky, way across to the furthest mountains where the sun was setting in flames of brilliant red fire. And Tuli rose-seed stood inside the gleaming colours of a perfect star made out of the ribbons of her first family, to whom she was now forever ed in seedlove. And Twiglet was very proud… for real.

RAY Orange Ring of Summer Mountain

When she awoke, Tuli found herself lying on a bed of soft green moss, and it was already past dawn. She looked out of the window of her new grass house and the morning sun was just beginning to show above the horizon through the trees. A glow of orange splashed on to her quilt. She saw the red ring of summer fire was gone, and the orange ring of summer mountain was in its place. She knew that playtime was over and had a feeling that something was calling her to important new discoveries. She got out of bed, carefully considering. The world wasn’t just to play in, it was obvious. There was a pattern and order to all these beautiful sounds of summer and these must be learned if Tuli was to grow anywhere. But how am I going to learn about these things? She hunched her knees up under her chin, and stared resolutely at the orange ring, pulling the mossy green covers around it so that it looked like a sudden bright flower. Just then a sister seedling bounced round the door. “Hurry, Tuli, we’ll be late for schoo…ool,” she said. School…thought Tuli slowly, That must be it. That’s where I’ll learn. She picked up a long piece of grass sticking up beside the bed, and put it between her thumbs and blew on it. “Hey, wait for me; here I come!!” Eagerly she pressed forward with the others along the path, up over the ridge behind the eastern slopes. “Who is going to tell us, sister seedling?” “Who will be our teachers?” They laughed good-humouredly. “Why, can’t you guess?” they tantalized. “Can you not see them waiting? Look,

Tuli newest one, all around you. Tall and brown.”

“The mountains,” the little seed mused to herself, “The mountains, they must be my teachers. Funny I never realised that before.” They led her down into the next valley where they took up their positions in the centre. The teachers were big and grand, standing there all around them. Compared with me, thought Tuli, They must be very wise, for they can see everything. And their heads can touch the sky itself. Around her, the other children from all over the land had gathered. There were the various grass family, the herbs, the mushrooms, and toadstools, the stones, the bushes, the mosses and lichens, the shells, the weeds…and a few clods of earth tagging along here and there. The tallest mountain surveyed the assembly. And as the sun was rising higher in the sky now, the light upon the mountain flickered like a million eyes watching, and telling its mysteries, and the lines of colour changed and moved, with every movement of the sun. Tuli was hardly aware of the other children all that day. She sat in awe and watched every detail of the dance of knowledge of the mountain and the light. Towards sundown, she was half-aware that most children had gone home, but she remained still entranced with the last play of a magical twilight until night fell. Slowly she got up, and walked home alone, with a new longing growing in her heart. “The mountains, have told me everything about what it’s like to be mountains, and now I can see what they know, and feel what they feel in their hearts… But what of my heart? Can I perhaps too create something out of myself, and make my own sounds which come from the depths of me, to which others bigger and smaller can also listen, as I listened today?”

ME Yellow Ring of Harmony

That night, she slept soundly with a new dream stirring in her breast. Morning came suddenly with a bright glow of yellow harmony around her third finger. She arose excitedly and ran to the stream for a long cool drink. All that morning, Tuli gathered pretty things from all around and like magic spun them like silk into fine gestures and sweet melodies. By mid-day, because never once did she stop because she was so busy and happy, she had made a whole orchestra of all the different instruments you can think of, and then some, that maybe you didn’t think of yet, and then she sat down on a rock in the sunshine. She picked up a flute that she had carefully carved out from a reed, and through it blew a strange and lyrical song, which touched her heart with a dream from a faraway land, and carried her soul to a sky higher than the tops of the mountains themselves. “There! I did it!” she cried, and ecstasies of tears flowed down her face, and melted into the ground. In joy, she bounced down off the rock, and ran to tell the others… And during that afternoon, she gathered every single child-friend together, and made them into a fine orchestra playing on all her instruments that she had made, and the sounds that rose up into the flowing air seemed to Tuli to be sweeter than the sweetest heaven. And when they were done, there were many who formed little clusters of imagination here and there. Some were painting coloured movements upon the water. Some were scattering new sounds upon the trees. Some were carving wonderful feelings from the inside of their hearts. And still others were touching

the magical edges of time itself.

At last, they grew peacefully tired. And spinning the last chord of a silken harmony ring losing itself in the growing dusk, they wearily floated home, riding upon the last ethereal rays of light.

FA Blue Ring of Autumn Water

That night, Tuli heard a gentle voice speak to her in her dreams. “Tuli, my little one, and best-beloved child of my heart. Many are the sounds and colours of your soul which may sing of your longings. But you yourself are my flute, and I will play upon you the breath of love.” She woke up startled and sat up in bed. The new moon was shining through her window, like a fairy boat sailing to distant lands, and the helmsman was a solitary star… I must go away from here, she thought. It is time to see what lies beyond these mountains. I must prepare myself for the voyage. She looked up at the new moon. “You have travelled everywhere even in darkness, and stars will guide your way. I must do the same. The night draws me irresistibly, though my heart beats with the wings of fear.” She slept a little then, but rose before dawn, and bade a silent farewell to her friends and family and loved ones. She had put on a dress of autumn leaves to keep her warm, and from a belt of river shells that had made themselves yesterday, she hung her reed-flute, and on her feet, she donned some sandals braided from a few scraggles that Twiglet had once let fall beside her a long time ago. She tied a maypole ribbon of many colours through her hair and carried the memory of the twilight time from her first teachers in her mind. She was over the first mountains by the time the sun arose, and the blue ring of autumn water penetrated deep into the fourth finger of her left hand. Somewhere inside of her, she felt that the joys of summer were over. As she walked, she was aware that she was not exactly sure where she was

going, and every now and then she stumbled uncontrollably, and the rocks and stones hurt her underfoot. She paused to rest awhile by the bank of a swiftflowing river, and it seemed as though the thoughts of many lifetimes were crowding her mind, like moths around a night candle. She looked up and wondered how she would ford the river, for it was evident that there was no path to take her around it, and she could not, of course, go back, although if the truth be told, she almost wanted to. She looked around and thought maybe possibly she could braid together a latticework of strong branches from the nearby Oak trees, and float the whole thing across like a bridge. The Oak family was strong and wise and kind. They would help. And it was true. Early in the afternoon, together they were finished. She thanked the Oak, and leaned her head against his huge trunk. At the water’s edge, she paused to sip the essence of a nearby herb that she knew from her old friend Twiglet had magical properties and would give her a much needed endurance for the mighty task ahead. The Oak’s branches had steadied themselves against the far bank of the river, and Tuli stepped carefully to the first branch, gripping it fiercely with her feet. Sooner than she thought, she was half-way across. Just then, the sun grew dim, and a black cloud poised ominously overhead. A wind rushed through her hair, and threw her off balance. And then, a mighty storm fell. “Hold tight,” said the Oak Bridge steadily, “And I will hold you. Do not be afraid, or you will fall.” “Oh please, please hold me, hold me,” Tuli cried. But the waves tore unfeelingly against the branches and lashed around her small body. Of a sudden, she panicked. “Dear Oak bridge, I know I can hold no longer.” And a terrible rush of fear swept through her small self, and carried her over the edge. She threw up her little hands in anguish and cried out amidst the howling sounds. “O big Yellow-Orange! Where are you now? Please, oh please don’t lose me forever in this dark river!”…

The water rushed madly overhead. She gasped for air, and then got drawn down, down into a whirlpool of darkness. And then she lost consciousness, and fell into a nightmare of black towers and foreign lands, and shadows of menacing faces never yet beheld by mortal eye. Deeper and deeper the river drew her, and seemed to surge and swell in hypnotic heaviness, pulling on her head, and singing a cacophony of thundering shouts to the other side of her soul, proclaiming the tidings of its newly captured prey, and sucking her greedily into its muddy river floor. The languishing weeds weaved themselves into a coverlet, and lay darkly on top of her body. One of her little sandals drifted effortlessly to the surface, and floated to rest between the strong branches of the Oak bridge. “Hurry,” crackled the wise old Oak bridge to the sandal. “There is no time to be wasted. Quickly unravel yourselves, o twigletines of Tuli’s sandal, and tie yourselves into a long rope. I have sent word already to the water fairies to come to our assistance, and they are gathering stems from the strongest river-dream flowers, which you must on to yourselves, and hence reach down to Tuli rose-seed at the bottom of the river. Wrap yourselves around her firmly, and tie three clove-hitches on to me before you go. Make haste, whilst there is yet calm, for I sense another storm brewing from yonder horizon.” The twigletines busied themselves about, to untangle as fast as ever they could, bumping into each other without stopping to say pardon; getting into incredible knots because some forgot which way was the right way to be undone. Because they were very young. But breathless and finally, they formed into a reasonably straight line, then held hands with the eldest one clove-hitching on to the Oak, and plunged down into the water paddling their scraggles as hard as they could go.

Half-way down, an army of water fairies arrived in air bubbles, and burst out climbing on to the twigletines to give them extra weight. Each fairy carried a green wand made from the magic stems of the river-dream flowers. Down the whole army swam to the rescue, ’til they felt a sharp sudden tug from the Oak bridge above. And in a trice, the wands formed a strong front column, which at last reached down to Tuli’s hand, who was lying fast asleep in the dark, dark world of the deep underneath. Slowly, slowly, slowly Return of the images reflections in soft mirrors swirls of trances of robes, of grey-green dawns slow rhythms of under sea dream worlds. Relics of faded mortality floating above in heaps of damasqued flowers whilst the horizon darkens and smiles its fateful circle around the eddying gloom. Time’s cooling vespers lay all in tombs of honour and quivering wreaths

lift up once more and ancient chants rend the waves with shivering strains. And colours of their childling’s love weep and run in faery tracks of silvery lights. Was that an echo of your voice sped past my ears in a field that lay so fallow in the wind that blew so warmly in the depth that felt so new in the life that stirs so softly the velvet sound so true in the breath that is so free an echo of the times of you in the petals full of yearning a sea-child wreathed in blue? And up and up she swirled and whirled through rising moons and suns and songs of water fairies and the popping of air bubbles and the excited chattering of tumbling twigletines. Until at last they all spilled over on to the surface of the river, and Tuli was laid out gently in an acorn shell boat, and two of the water fairies were close beside her steering her to safety with their green wands to the far shore. Whilst the strong Oak bridge towered proudly above, humming a wise old tree song.

At the other bank, the fairies helped Tuli out from the boat where the autumn sun came out to dry her dress of leaves, and the little twigletines stretched out a little to rest after their great adventure. Soon they were ready to journey on. Tuli adjusted her reed flute on her shell belt and helped the twigletines braid themselves back together again into a sandal. She stepped forward on to a path which was bordered by stones, and seemed to lead hauntingly through the falling leaves into a forest leaning lightly over the gentle hills. And the late evening sunlight melted through the golden leaves, lingering dappled among the tall trunks, and sweet fruits would fall around her as she walked under the god-blown sky, toward another dawn.

SO Green Ring of Leaves

But first, she rested for the night in a clearing within the woods and made her bed on some soft moss between the straggling roots of an old pine. The clearing was thick with tall dark grasses, and with her eyes half-closing, Tuli felt an ancient chant was pulling at her ears and drawing her to the whispering winds which seemed to be dancing with spirit auras before everything began. A little way off she could see a still pool, and the soundless moon shining in the water, and beyond, the mountain’s wonder-light speaking of ancient treasures. She felt a strange pang of fear that all was so beautiful. In the hush of the evening are we sometimes given to who we were and glimpse again the beauty of our people from whom we descend We offer up ourselves in humility and ecstasy and in supplication we pine for the lost valleys of the gods But we are given only a rusty hatchet with a cross burned upon the shaft and a wonderstone in our pocket Do not crush us with the rod of our fate but show us the way to sacrifice

and pour wine on our foreheads Let us be placed on the sacred fire and before the first light, reveal these things that are burned in the deep earth. In vain do we fly towards the sun, for our dark earthly cave yawns its dark entrance to engulf our freedom And the gods have hidden the blinding light from our eyes, and robbed each thing of its colour Even the moon with its grudging splendour will not show us the way Our journey is unhallowed in a place of shadows Can we not partake of our former strength when we are descendants of the conquerors Can we not rise to the ethereal breezes and let the soul permeate the limbs How long must you abandon us beneath the branches of this great tree that is your earth

Where vain dreams throng down in multitudes to seduce our spirits and ravish our minds Let not this earthly habit blunt our purpose and compel us to exile and dispossession For we are princes of our people beset by music haunting and beauty unending Do not cast us out forever amidst the ungodly but teach us how to share our inheritance Receive us back unto your truth when we freely consent to make a last exit from this life When at last we know we have completed our task and there an end. In the morning, she awoke to spun-rain’s misty falling, and gathered all around her were wood-spirits curiously searching Tuli’s face for wisps of life, and leaving ghostly silver- lace trails as they moved in the flickering webbed light of an autumn sunrise. Some were gazing at the leafy green sparkle upon her finger, and surmised that she must be a certain kind of leaf-spirit that they had not seen before. And some began to beckon her through the tall grasses towards the pool, the silent pool, that she had glimpsed the night before. And she began to hear

voices like the tinkling of bells, and liquid laughter evanescent through the mist. And thence she saw, all around the pool, a group of golden children slow dancing a sarabande in the blue mist flower-land of no-time. Sunbeams carried their tiny limbs in lavender sea-dreams, and misty footfalls gently traced the magic opiate of life. “Come, new leaf spirit!” they chanted. “Come, oh come! The children are making ready for the carnival. They are awaiting their Queen, and preparing their gifts for the Leaf Ceremony. The young trees are bedecked with jewels and the animals are gathering in from the forest. But first, oh first, sweet Tuli, we must find you a mask so that you can with the children of Falinderai in honouring their Queen.” “And why is it, oh spirits of the forest, that we must all be seen to wear masks?” The children were listening, and twinkled with gay laughter like the peal of small bells.

"Take our fair hands and them in the vows of life, Shall we not hear the songs of time floating on the breezes, And find peace in our soft laughter of blues and greens, And feel the virgin pasture of golden days beneath our running feet." “We are the children of Falinderai. We can tumble in space, and feel the timeless rhapsody of the stars, and the gentle rains of heaven, the winds and the seas, the rocks and the fire. For we are the children who belong to no time. We tread on the waters, we move the mountains, we fly with the seagulls and sing in the seashells, we moan with the crags that are moved by the wind, we live in the water in beauty and darkness, and we drink the cool air in ecstasy. Sweet Tuli, welcome to the elysia of laughing suns, and golden groves unleaving. Behold the tapestries of sunlit leaves and the infinity of kingdoms folding through the tracings. Behold the magic mirror to the genius of life, the wisdom of uncounted centuries, images reflected and engraved upon our pathways. And behold the fires we build with old branches engendering warmth to the holy flame of truth, that fateful fire shooting ever upward in arrowed tongues atoning. Unannealed we may have been, but now absorbed into one eternal fire burning towards the absolute, an infinity of affirming towering unbounded resoundings, where peripheries are melting and dancing in God’s burning, and ashes turn to gold, feeding fire and light, and fusing. O blessed time, Time of times, time without time, when rivulets run in our veins, and weave the magic symbols, drawing everything toward that centre of liquid stone.” “Come, oh come, little sister, we wear our masks to play with the forms and the colours and the sounds of this jaunting universe and we forget ourselves and cover them inside, so we know we could be you and you could be us, and this

could be everything, and everything could be this, and the truth is right there in a strand of our hair. T’is the dance of the One, and the Song of the Sun.” “Hurry, little sister. T’is the time to begin.” “But…but how must I do this…how must I get the mask?” faltered Tuli, a little overwhelmed by all the proceedings. Just then one of the older children walked over to her with kindness spilling from her brown eyes. “This is how to do it, Tuli,” she began to explain. She knelt down beside her and gently took hold of her arm. “Just imagine,” she said, “Just imagine what you are going to become as hard as you possibly can, and then like a special dream draw it around you like a cosy coverlet and fold yourself quietly inside so as not to be seen. Then the dream will come alive, and you yourself, Tuli, you will be so hidden inside that no-one will ever guess you are there. No-one will ever see you.” At this, Tuli went to the edge of the silent pool, and settled herself down to sit awhile and wonder who or what she could possibly become. All at once a huge silence came over her like the great silence of the pool, and she gazed uninterruptedly at the silvery stillness of its surface like a perfectly round mirror reflecting the blue heavens of the sky above, and its brilliant sun, moving indiscernibly slowly across. And around its edges was the deep slenderness of the young sapling trees moving a little in the slight autumn breeze. It seemed as if they were waiting and bending in a quiet reverence to a royal appearance of an illustrious sun. Every now and then, they would sacrifice a loosened leaf to the wind which would carry it flutteringly downward to the round mirror and beyond. But in an instant, it would rise again in the semblance of a tiny vessel floating happily to wherever it was carried. The mirror rippled a little as the leaf floated and became an instant of colours playing delightedly above and below its surface, whilst the drops of water upon the leaf itself became as shining jewels, and sparkling moon-drops, incandescent and luminously radiant. She followed the journey of one leaf of red and gold as if it might take her to the shore of another land. And when indeed it touched the shore at her side and bounced playfully away, she saw a golden hand of some angel-child whisk it away, and in a trice place it upon a spinning wheel and turn it into what seemed an infinity of fine silken thread. The angel-child beckoned her to the wheel, a wheel that seemed to turn and turn and never rest and never go back. And in another trice, there she was, sitting at the wheel herself, feeling like a colourful explosion of

sparkling fires shooting out from the very centre of her being, and sometimes hissing down into the mirror of the silent pool, only to disappear forever into its watery depths. The turning wheel folded in one fiery hand whilst swiftly she gathered the young sapling leaves in the other and threaded them through into fine silk. And the silk seemed to weave itself into a garment of beauty untouched by mortal hand. As she glanced up, Tuli was aware that there were golden angel-children surrounding the entire pool, and it became as if the pool was an everlasting life shining in its depths the universal sun. And that the garments which were spun gave their wearers the property of eternal life. That the golden angels had always been there spinning their fallen leaves into spun silk beside the ancient mirror which was silent before time began. The animals themselves had begun to emerge from the woods and lie quietly in the soft grass. The birds were singing their sweetest songs to the music of the wheel. And the lone lyre-bird perched upon the branches of the tallest tree and made a song more eloquent and exquisite than had ever yet been heard.

LA Indigo Ring of the Flying Bubbles

Then the eldest child touched Tuli lightly on the arm and gently caused the spinning-wheel to come to a stop. Falling through droplets of time, her voice drifted effortlessly into Tuli’s consciousness. “The spinning of eternity is here Tuli, and it will always be here in Falinderai should you ever return to the silent pool of the silver mirror, or long to be with the golden children again, but now you must don your new dress of silk which will be as your protection whilst you journey, and you must carry your wonderment up to yon high mountain. On the topmost peak will you find your destiny awaits. There you will see the wizard of Norh in the deepest caves, and you must tarry with him awhile for he has much to show you concerning the revels of those airy heights. We children are his friends to whom he reveals all his artistry and wizardry. Sometimes we call him old swizard Bubbles because of the nature of his most favourite magic. You will like him, I know, so have no fear. But close your eyes awhile, and we will by our own magic carry you partway up the mountain to our favourite resting place, which we call our loveshelter for all wandering voyagers.” Tuli let her eyelids fall softly over her eyes, and slowly she seemed to rise in to a most ethereal slumber of peace, a place of utter contentment where she would have liked to stay for almost ever, swinging as it were between heaven and earth on a velvet swing with her golden tresses tangled in the stars. And written upon her limbs, the angel-tales of love, and turning, turning a ball of immortal lightness. Was that an echo of their voices sped past her ears melting into mountain’s sounds, or was it a breath from the mist mid-Autumn skies swirled her skirts and spirit dancing. The colours of their childling’s love weep and run in fairy tracks against the damasqued sky, and the lyre-bird rends the stirless air with shivering strains of trembling song. And silver textures play in angles and sweetly linger till twilight falls. And Tuli was laid to rest in the love-shelter made of soft- scented cedar boughs

and lined with leaves, and a willowing of heart-spun’s fondness gossamer fell to lingering green. There she lay in deep dreams until sunwise worlds softly seeded to the virgin grace of the morrow. In the morning light, she awoke just before sunrise, and rippling around her finger was a ring of the colour of deepest midnight, and it seemed to be also a reflection of deepest oceans or the sound of a deepest mountain. “With you to guide me, I know I must be on my way,” said Tuli. “’Twill take me a morning to tread this mountain. But the trees will be my nimbus of inspiration, and my face will be joyful over the labour, and my feet will happily quarrel with the fallen red-gold leaves.” Sooner than soon, she glimpsed the top of the mountain, and a tall thin figure was standing upon the crest waving both hands in welcome. It was swizard Bubbles, the kindly wizard of Norh. “Come, come, my child,” he mused, “We knew of your coming, and we are here to greet you after your wonderful and arduous climb.” Tuli looked around for perhaps some other to which he might have been referring, but as far as she could see, he appeared to be alone. “We are the wizard of Norh, my child, and we make you most welcoming into our humble care.” Tuli smiled. In truth, he was a kindly wizard, and she was glad to enter his humble abode, for indeed she was extremely fatigued after her long ascent. She bowed her head and followed the wizard into the inside of the cave, and there she saw a small stone table and stone chairs and a stone bed… in fact, everywhere she looked, everything was made of stone. Suddenly, there was a flapping of wings over in the farthest dark corner. “Oh!” Tuli drew back in fright. “Ah, we must not take fear,” the old man said, “This is but Loden, my most ancient friend! He has been with us before little seeds like you began. He is our friend. Come, Loden, come to meet our most welcoming guest.” Loden waddled over towards Tuli, for although he was still the proudest bird in the sky when he was on the wing, yet he was old, and had grown comfortably

tired in the old man’s cave. He outstretched a huge claw. Tuli laid her little hand on top of it, and they exchanged greetings. Old man Bubbles put a stone cup before her on the table. “Drink,” he said. “Our most healing potion for weary travellers. Drink up. I want you to come see what our presence is brewing.” Tuli obeyed. Bubbles quite obviously wanted to waste no time. He seemed excited to show her his wizardry without further ado. “Aha, aha, Loden, my proud beauty, we go on a ride. Today is the day we go for another ride. Let me see, when did we go last? Long time, such a long time. But ah, we go again, my beauty. Today we go again.” Bubbles turned and led the way into another chamber, darker of course, though there was still just enough sunlight filtering through, and causing flickering shadows upon the stone walls. “Ah here, here we are.” And Tuli saw that there was a huge stone cauldron before them, which was fairly broiling with all shapes and sizes of bubbles emitting from its surface. “This is it, my child, here is my bubbling pot, and we shall be taken on our journeys. Right now.” And he waved his hand and commanded one of the bubbles to rise and poise in the air whilst it let off its hot steam. “Quite safe we are, child. Quite safe now. Quite safe. Not hot. Come! Come….! Carefully come in after me. Follow me!” And so muttering, he leaned against the bubble, muttering and tuttering until the surface of the bubble surrounded him and folded him right inside. “Inside! He’s actually inside!” declared Tuli in utmost surprise and anticipation. He beckoned. Tuli leaned in his direction, and the bubble grew and grew and surrounded her in exactly the same way. Then they were together again. Inside!

The wizard was so excited that he could hardly contain himself. “Now for it. Now we go. Go! Go! Go Bubble!” he commanded. And they were off. Through the cauldron room and into a long age. Rolling and bouncing along until at last they reached the end of the age and were out into the mountain air. Up and up they flew. It was really exhilarating. Tuli could not speak, and Bubbles held her hand. “This is the Happy Bubble, my child, and inside it, we are altogether happier than we have ever been. We will fly over the mountain peaks into Eagle country and look over all the different lands of the earth. Have you ever seen so much child, have you ever been up so high?” Tuli just nodded and shook, and looked altogether amazed. She had never felt so much pure delight all at the same time. She felt like a high-flying bird, swirling and swirling above the far earth, so far, far away, it looked just like a little ball that you could play with on a summer afternoon in the breeze. Then suddenly…Pop! And burst! They were released into the air, and for a second Tuli seemed suspended in fright, and caught her breath. But Bubbles had never let go of her hand, and old Loden was flying to the rescue.

“Oh, Loden! You old proud thing. You’re getting slow. Next time you won’t hardly make it!” onished the wizard as they were safely aboard, and flying downward in a long smooth flight. But Bubbles was not really cross. He was too happy, and besides, he had his young visitor to take care of. They re-entered the cave, and Bubbles hurried back into the cauldron chamber pulling Tuli behind him. “Now for the next one,” he said, and gleefully rubbed his magic hands. Well, all that afternoon was spent in various escapades of this nature. Except that each bubble was entirely different, and each gave them a completely different adventure. There was a Thought bubble, a Noise bubble, a Sensation bubble, a Wish bubble, a Seem bubble, a Feeling bubble, an Illusion bubble—that was fun! But best of all, Tuli thought, was the bubble of Perfect Silence, still and silent in the wide, wide sky. And it was peculiar, but when you were inside each bubble you had to do exactly what it told you to do, because if you didn’t, like if you made a tiny noise in the Silence bubble, it would squeeze you until it hurt a bit, and then you’d promise to be silent from then on. Each one burst as it left the earth’s atmosphere, and Loden would saunter his flight towards them and take them home, down, down, to the wizard’s cave. As the last bubble burst, which was the Bubble of Silence, Tuli thought she saw a vision of something quite extraordinary just as they left the earth’s atmosphere and before they re-entered, flying on Loden. She thought she saw a gleaming sea made out of light where all different rainbow colours of bubbles had merged, and she saw a Light-spirit dancing on its surface. And it shone with a golden light reflecting and rippling its rays in great shafts and the Light-spirit was like a splendid dancing Queen ruling the entire kingdom. But then the vision vanished. And Loden came soaring by to wing his way back to earth, back to the topmost peak of the high mountain.

TI Violet Ring of the Four Gates

Much as Tuli felt wonderful and exuberant staying with the wizard Bubbles on the topmost peak of the mountain, the sense of adventure was drawing her ever onwards, and towards the end of that day, she gave her farewells to both him and Loden and started off down the other side of the mountain. Bubbles had given her a staff which he said would aid her descent over the boulders and crags, and that perhaps she might find useful in other ways also, for it had some beneficent properties about which he would explain no further. Until she was half-way down, it was all good going, but then dusk seemed to be falling very rapidly as the light was disappearing behind the mountain, and at each footfall, the journey was becoming a little more hazardous. Just as she was thinking of stopping to rest, she thought she noticed a faint glimmer of opalescent light twinkling around the staff, and illuminating the path before her. Not only that, but it seemed to be pulling her, urging her to follow as if it knew the right way through its own power. And her heart warmed towards the old man of the mountain for the staff did indeed have beneficent properties. Tuli felt safe. There was no need to worry. The staff would guide her to the right place. She only had to yield to its bidding. Just as she was at last nearing level ground, she heard singing in the distance. She pulled back the branches of the last overhanging trees, and lo and behold, it opened on to a wide meadow, discernable in the half-light of the moon. And as she drew closer, there, dancing around a fire was the most remarkable assortment of little people that she had ever seen. She was intrigued, and boldly stepped up to their circle around the flashing flames. And then, too late! They had noticed her. “Who are you, o stranger, in these parts, and why is’t that you approach so boldly? Know you not that this is the most sacred meadow, and strangers are in no wise permitted to enter within its precincts, except with our express

permission. For this reason, we have our guards at all the gates, and only of like-kind may enter and our rituals.” “How come she got through the guards?” they whispered excitedly. And others whispered, “Perhaps she came from the magic mountain! Do you think that could be possible? But no˗one has come from that direction for many a moon. We had better investigate further.” “Who are you, and what name do you bear!”, they chorused loudly. For some reason, Tuli felt entirely unawed by their presence, and unafraid of their abrupt manner. She replied, lifting herself up to her fullest height that she could manage without straining herself, “I am a rose-seed, and the name I bear is Tuli.” They quivered indignantly. “Why! She isn’t even of any of our natures that we can see. She’s a seed! Less than a seed if you ask us!” “I’m not asking you,” said Tuli. “I have come a long way on my journey and I think the least you can do is offer me some kind of hospitality for the night.” “Hmm… She wants hospitality from us, does she?” they replied, “And what will you do for us in return, little missy rose-seed?” And they added behind the backs of their hand, “What could she possibly do for us?” Tuli looked at them sharply. “First, you must introduce yourselves and tell me what names you bear.” “Well, I suppose that isn’t too difficult a bargain. We will agree to that!” they replied rather haughtily. Suddenly, a group of them, of similar looks, flew at her, and swished past her face, and tangled in her hair, and tickled her nastily like night-insects.

“We are the Air people,” they chanted. “We call ourselves the airy fairies, and we fly through the air (swish! one landed in her ear) with the greatest (another nipped her eyelash) of ease!” Tuli was determined not to get flustered and just as she was regaining her composure as they all flew off to their places around the fire, the next lot came swarming in, heading straight for her legs pulling her down, down so that her feet were below the earth. “We are the Earth people,” they bellowed. “We call ourselves the earth mirths, and we can stand up to anything. Try and move your feet, little missy. We assure you that you would spend a thousand years trying unless we choose to release you. Ha!” they rumbled on and threw her out. Whoosh! So that she was forced to stagger a little before she could regain her balance. No sooner was she upright than the third lot flashed hotly around her, and sparks and flames threatened to burn her hair and clothes, so close they seemed to be coming lashing and flashing, lashing and flashing. “We are the Fire people,” they flouted, “We call ourselves the fire buyers, and we can set alight anything we so desire, anything we touch.” A spark landed ominously on her green dress. She brushed it off, and looked for the burned hole it had made. Strange, there was no hole; it had failed to burn her dress, the silk dress of leaves, of eternal leaves. So, Tuli had a bit of power, did she? She’d better keep it secret. And the staff, that too, she could keep it inconspicuous. She dropped it lightly on the ground behind her.

In a long stream of bright flaming light, the fire buyers returned to the others. Her eyes were hurt by the flame, and she couldn’t see so well. When…Splash! Right in her face! And she was soaked all over to the skin, and worse than that, the blow had knocked her over, such that she was sitting on a muddy piece of earth. They splashed on to her face again, “We are the Water people (Splash!), and we call ourselves the water porters, and we can make everything as wet as we like. We can rain down in thunderous torrents, or we can float amongst the airy fairies like a dancing mist. Hee, hee, hee!” they pealed, “You can’t grow one little bit without us, hee, hee!” Tuli was a little annoyed by this excessive display of identity, but she was determined to remain unruffled and resume her balance. They, too, resumed their places around the fire, and waited. Tuli waited also. She didn’t at all feel in the mood for being polite, or making the next move. “What do you want now, little missy,” they contrived. “Do you want us to tell you what we are doing?” “No,” said Tuli. “I wish to sleep now in your meadow, and I will see what you are doing come morning time.” Tuli was determined and almost frightened herself with bold reders. And therewith, she settled down to sleep against a small stack of newly cropped hay. She shut her eyes tight, and forgot deliberately about her peculiar circumstances, and floated off into the welcoming land of dreams.

Morning came gently. It was a new day, and Tuli felt refreshed after her rude assaults the previous night. She looked around cautiously. There was no-one to be seen. At least no apparent thing, and everything was quiet and sleeping under a soft cover of glistening dew. She got up, and glimpsed a ring of lovely violet hue upon her finger, and saw her staff lying faithfully beside her. Her first thought was to plant it upright in the ground, so as no-one would distinguish it from the surroundings. And there she left it. She glanced around the meadow. There was nothing to be seen from last night’s encounters, apart from a heap of ashes that were spent. And then her eye caught a peculiar sight over in the centre of the meadow. She couldn’t make out what exactly it was. She came closer. It appeared to be a fairly large stone mound, like a fortress. It had ledges up four sides, for climbing, she presumed. So, she climbed: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. And she was at the top. There was a hole in the centre. She peered down. “What can possibly be hiding in there?” she puzzled. She squinted a little and bent over. It was like looking into a huge stone water jug which was very dark inside. But as her eyes adjusted slowly, she could just make out the form of a very beautiful flower. But that’s all it seemed to be, just the form. It was very pale, without colour or hue or radiance, and looked so sad, reaching painfully for the little amount of light that there was, seeping through the small round space at the top. “Hey, missy!” Tuli jumped, startled. “What are you doing up there? That’s the centre of our sacred rituals. No strangers are allowed to see. That’s our property, missy. Now just you leave it alone.” She looked down. And there was an angry fire buyer, flashing and fuming, and shaking his fiery fist. “Don’t you respect other people’s property?” he clamoured. Tuli turned around on the top step. “You mean this poor flower is your property? But flowers don’t belong to

anybody. They’re just a part of the world for everyone to look at.” “You silly seed!” he reed. “We own this flower. We made it. We made it equally between our four kinds, the earth mirths, the water porters, the airy fairies and us, the fire buyers. It’s ours, for the keeping. No one can ever take it away from us. The hole at the top signifies that we each contributed equal portions, a handful of earth, a handful of water, a handful of air, and a handful of fire sunlight. We made one before without the fortress, and the airy fairies got above themselves and started to contribute beyond their share, and the wind they formed blew it over. And then, some ferocious animal came and took it away. So we did it properly this time, and shared it and built protection for it, so that noone could come and steal it, ever.” Tuli thought there was little point in continuing such an absurd conversation, so she made her way down the stone steps to the bottom, and confronted the fuming fire buyer with a still gaze. In her inmost heart, she was considering how soon the poor flower would probably die, because it desperately needed an abundance of everything that could be given, and it needed other living things to be simply glad that it was alive upon the free and goodly earth. But she knew they would not listen to her heart, because to them she was only an unwanted stranger, a treser on their property, an upsetting disturbance to their exclusive community enterprise. She turned away and began walking across the meadow with a heaviness in her soul. The days of autumn were almost over, and snowflakes were falling on the magic mountain.

DO The Silver Ring of Winter Yesteryears

Spun-rain’s misty falling gently graces the down swept soul, silver textures play in angles, sunlight beams charm the sadness, and sweetly linger till twilight falls. Tuli was just wandering—she knew not where, she knew not why, but she felt like being alone with her own thoughts, and being in places where nobody else ever came. She must have walked for miles in the dusk and then into the night, travelling along with only the soft round moon to guide her way. And behind her, like her shadowy footprints, were her trails of thought, sacred impressions crossing the planes of time to eternity. Sometimes a tree’s bending branch would lean down to offer its life to nourish the beauty of the moon, which would also bend to see the thin film of time and breath upon the earth. And the earth would feel the magic of impulses from powers of the absolute penetrating to her deep centre with burning vibrations. And then the sky would steal away the moon streaking its sound over her face.

Tuli thought she must be quite high above level ground, although it appeared as though she must be walking on a vast plain through long grasses, and a few weeds and thistles. She stopped and looked around for a moment, and dimly discerned what looked like a tall tower against the night sky. She headed in that direction and thought that at least it would provide shelter for the night. Because she felt and was so alone, her thoughts travelled effortlessly to her furthest beginning, and the remembrance of a touch of warm radiance like a long-ago beloved friend stirred her heart. Was it the remembrance of a beautiful dream, or was it real? Did she once have a beloved friend who seemed as though he might last forever… ? is it……. footsteps stepping (echo tapping) trapping heart and dream and quiv(ring) breast (in silent) love between ? can it…… (footsteps tapping) there…….. where no sound is be (alive) i among (you)r feet

a s…pring for every f(all) of foot ? may it… (echo stepping) a breath a trembling god between a (still) miracle of ? hush a wish for every seem ? And is it… footsteps stepping (echo tapping)… a coming you for every me. She stood still again, deep in thought, but try as she might she could not quite . But here was the tower anyway. It was dark and empty and derelict, and a wind was just beginning to blow across the plain, and its echo made a weird and somewhat eerie sound, as it whistled through the empty space. A slight mist was coming down, so the distant mountains had vanished, and Tuli and the tower were quite alone.

Nothing lives here except me and the tower! thought the seed, and settled down in a corner on the rough floor. Everything here is cold and wild and desolate. And yet she felt strangely at home as if this was the end of her journey, and all things had been leading to only a cold emptiness. There was nothing to look at, no-one to talk to, only her small self in the middle of a dark wild misty night. Not even the stars were visible. There was only her very self. And perhaps that was all there ever had been, but she had not realised it before because she had been so busy on her journeys, and seen so many wonderful things. I think I almost like it, being alone here. It makes me wonder who I really am. And with that, she fell into a deep reverie, and thence into a deep sleep, where she listened only to the distant murmur of her soul, whilst her body lay trapped by the chains of the dark night to the sombre earth, surrounded by the sweet sadness of warm cobwebs. That night she had a strange dream…about the sea, a great ocean, though she had never before seen the sea, but in her dream it was as if she had always known it to be there. First, she saw the tall dark grasses beckoning to her, the tall dark grasses…with fingers shot with flame and bodies full of the dark spirit. And then she saw the sea pulling, urging her within the deep mystery of birth, beneath the myriad of reflected stones and images to the one orgasmic swell below. And Tuli’s body was the sea, and her mind floated upward to the surface of all things, and scattered effortlessly upon the waters to be thrown up to the outer shores, to the frail boundaries of wisdom. And the moon sunk deep into her body, and she moved and swelled to the joy of the god within. And then she became the still round moon that moved the tides, the fullness of light in the dark oceans of beginning. The next morning, she woke up slowly and carefully because she wasn’t quite sure if she really was the sea, or whether she was the moon, or what had happened. The silver ring shone like a mirror on her finger, and she looked in it, and sure enough, there she was, still as little a seed as ever, and the day was certainly all around her again with its unremitting definiteness. Time, herself, the world, the long-ago (was it a dream?) friend, the rings…the rainbow rings of time, all had come and gone, and now here was herself gazing into herself inside the silver mirror ring.

The winter was getting deeper outside, and Tuli was thinking she might stay here forever in the lone tower high up on the wild moors. And keep the silver mirror ring and never let it disappear from her finger. And then nothing would ever change except the flow of her thoughts, and herself would always be there to listen to herself, and never go away or move on. And she could sometimes play pretend, and sometimes play real, and sometimes be sad, and sometimes be gay, and sometimes be the whole world, and sometimes be just an ordinary little seed. And maybe one day the dream friend would appear and speak to her again, and they could be friends forever, and he would never go away. Perhaps she could learn to make up some special words that would float away on the breezes and would reach the dream friend, and then she wouldn’t mind if nothing ever happened again, because the dream friend had heard her, and he had come to be beside her, as close as her very own heart. If she sang for him to come every day, perhaps one day he would be there and say, “I’ve come to take you to my home, Tuli.” And then she would take his hand and fly up and away, away from the wild tower, and live with him for ever and ever. But just at that particular moment, it seemed kind of unlikely. For one thing, he wouldn’t think of looking for Tuli inside a high empty tower on top of a wild empty moor. That would most likely be the last place he’d think of. And for another, seeds are usually happy people because they have so much inside just bursting to come out. And Tuli wasn’t particularly bouncing with joy at this particular time, as seeds were usually wont to do. She stood up and went towards the centre of the tower and looked up to the patch of grey wintry sky above. The snowflakes were falling through, one by solitary one. “Ah,” she said, “if only you would come, and take this weary burden from my heart.” She felt tinier than ever. “I can’t seem to grow anywhere without you my friend. You must be somewhere where I haven’t travelled yet.” “…Very, very cautiously I must go if I am to find anything and I must go alone if I am to find anything. I haven’t found anything yet. I have neither found my house, nor my beloved one, nor my fields. They must be somewhere I have not yet been. Already I have travelled a very long while. And I cannot alone take refuge in what is inside. Neither can I hope that another may contemplate the measures of my soul. For what I do today is in question tomorrow…” “So here I will slowly seep into the mellow primordial darkness, and never ask anything again for I might be swept to precarious action over the distal textures

of my own questions.” It seemed that her body became shrouded by the sweeping mists and the falling snow, but her soul had become infinite, stretching towards the heavens and covering the eternal skies. And she breathed the secret mysteries of life and love and listened to the strangeness of the silence, and heard the songs of all time floating upon the breezes. The snow kept coming down outside and it felt like the mid-most depth of winter, and Tuli leaned back against the rough stone wall and dozed and thought, and thought and dozed.

In one of these half-sleep states, as the outside world slowly faded from consciousness, it seemed as though a huge luminous Book was unfolding endlessly before her eyes. It became a veritable pageant charged with a kind of light Tuli had not yet before seen, a light which seemed to radiate and circulate about everything in every space and into every sphere and into every time of the whole Universe. It was a swift, infinitely moving and boundless pageant, depicting the historical flow of all things down through the ages, and the most celestial harmonies were reverberating and singing all up and over and around her. And each scene was made out of the most minute diamond jewels, reflecting and absorbing all the colours of amazing brightness and hue. And pictures would seem to emanate and grow from the still inner centre to the outward complexity of multiple forms. It was a dance of unending beauty. And then she seemed to rise up and up above the whole earth, and it was covered with newly tilled brown soil. And then in a slow dance movement, it gradually began to unfold and display some colour here and there, until at last it danced to become a beautiful flower of all the colours under the sun in full bloom. And then it offered up its one beautiful seed. Tuli awoke again at this point, and felt much better. Because if worlds could unfold in dreams like that, then certainly there were more worlds to see than this lonely old tower, and perhaps if you opened your heart and soul wide enough, you may be able to glimpse some of them right here and now, without even moving. Why not? You could do it whilst you were dreaming. So, why not when you’re awake? Perhaps when you could only see one world, it meant that you had walked right into a trap. Perhaps the lonely tower was just a simple trap, and since she got herself in there, she could obviously find out how to get herself out. Life was beginning to return to her, and she skipped around the tower room, chanting and singing snatches of tune, such as, “I know who you are, o great big tower, I know who you be, I am going to skip here until I can really see!” Just then a flood of sunlight fell on the round patch in the middle of the floor inside the tower, and dazzled brilliantly in her silver ring. But then, almost immediately following the flash, came a huge dark shadow. She looked up. And there, poised upon the roof was a lone wild goose of such large proportions that it blotted out every trace of light. The goose looked down at the little dancing

seed. “Ah, there you are, little seed. I have been flying all these winter months to find you and bring you home upon my broad back. It is time for you to leave these lonely lands and dark nights and wild plains, and I am now to fly with you across these broad skies till we reach the land of the never dying sun, the sun of eternal spring. It is time for your seed shell to soften and break open, for inside you have great and wonderful things that will grow and become resplendent in the warm radiance of the ever-living sunshine, and the warm breezes of the springtime.” She looked upward at the great goose through trembling diamonds and tears of joy. It was already past dawn. Into the uncertain morning perhaps a little suddenly he stole upon her fleeting soul… and though the sweet new world had scarcely stirred she glimpsed within his eyes the dance of spring And at his glance her spirit shied and poised between the moving veils of some ethereal dream that tells of moonbeam’s playful light in a forest

filled with sleeping birds… Falling stars were on her mouth and petals danced against her hands… up and down the singing reaches of her heart he traced his sea-tide sounds till she was clothed in gossamer and lay in wings of silver dew… Softly would she gather of love’s flowing life whilst his soul grew roses in the night… And ride beyond the big white boats of all the newest moons

with a sky-child holy and fair… And forever lie within his smile a flower of so pure surprise and the tumbling shyness of his wings… Without delay, the goose fluttered down, and Tuli climbed unafraid upon his great feathery back, and held on to him, gently hiding her happy face amongst his soft neck feathers. And then they were off…. to a new and glorious land of the forever sunshine, shining in a forever spring.

The Gold Ring of Roses

O what a beautiful feeling! What exuberance and light and big wide blueness of sky as far as she could see! The wild goose flew so steadily and strong above the earth in the fresh living air, and Tuli was so comfortable nestling into the softness of all his feathers, and she felt so changed inside of herself as if everything were growing and bursting to be born. And all around her was as if it was infused with a new kind of spirit of life, and the sun was pouring down through the air like molten gold and glistening upon the goose as if he were a golden chariot riding through the sky. And she herself was truly a Queen, for at sunrise that morning a brilliant circlet of pure gold had gently fallen upon her head, and crowned her like a living diadem of jewels. The wild goose had set it aright himself with one of his wings. And now here they were gliding and sailing in the infinite sky, and it appeared that they were ing over all the different countries of the world. Tuli could see mountains and lakes, and plains of grasses and flowers, and icy cold lands and burning hot deserts as if in a trice. And then, at last, the wild goose bent his neck downwards and pointed his beak towards the edge of a vast ocean shining and rippling beneath them. “Are you ready for the downward flight, dear Tuli? We are going to dive right on to the edge of that great sea.” And he began swooping and floating and swooping. Tuli hung on, with all her golden hair streaming behind her in the sunshine, and her big blue eyes as wide as the earth she was flying towards. Nearer and nearer, until at last, they were there. The goose was perching upon a crag of rock jutting out over the sands, and the waves were falling one upon the other in their eagerness to touch the land. Tuli climbed off his back and held on to one of his wings whilst she looked over into the fathomless depths of this great unknowable sea. “Tuli,” he said, “It is time for me to continue my journey, for I cannot stay with

you here. But you will be quite safe. For you are now in the hands of the great spirit of the sea, and no harm will come to you. In fact your very deliverance is nearer than your dearest wish. Goodbye, dear Tuli, we will meet again at another time, in another place.” And then he lifted his wings and turned toward the ocean, and Tuli heard him speak this wonderful farewell prayer. "O Great Spirit! O Thou Whose bounty granteth wishes! I stand before Thee, all save Thee forgetting Grant that the mote of knowledge in her spirit escape desire and the lowly clay Grant that Thine ancient gift, this drop of wisdom, merge with Thy mighty sea." And then away he flew into his home of the wide, wide sky. Tuli stood on the rock waving until he was out of sight. Then she turned and followed a little path along the cliff-top, and breathed the fresh sea-salt air, and listened to the breaking of the waves on the shore. The path began to wind down right to the sea-shore. She could just see the end of it if she strained over the edge of a rock enough. But what was that? There was something moving down there also. Whatever could it be? She couldn’t make it out, though it looked more or less like a circle shape. She decided to walk down the path a bit more so as to get a better look. About half-way down, she bent over again, and this time she could see quite clearly. But a quaint, queer sight. She had never in her whole life seen anything remotely like that before. She wondered if she had specks in her eyes from the flight with the goose and perhaps was seeing things. She rubbed them hard, and looked again. No, there they were quite clear and quite peculiar. Funny creatures of all different shades of skin colour, with kind of longish hair falling all about, and some of which was wiry and stuck straight up in the air. And they were all stomping around on the sand in a rhythm with their feet, and chanting in low voices, and sometimes laughing and shouting. They were so very wrapped up in what they were doing and they did not notice Tuli creeping up along the outside to get a better view. She presumed it must be some kind of ceremonial that perhaps they did here on the sea-shore every afternoon, and she must it she felt a wee bit apprehensive because the last time she interrupted a ritual she got rudely awakened as to her position, which was explained to her in no uncertain flaming

fire buyer ! But from the outside, this looked like a friendly, if quaint, gathering, and they all seemed to be happy in whatever they were doing. They looked full of spirit and caring of each other, and very open people as if they probably wouldn’t mind anyone in the world ing in. So, Tuli dared to go a bit closer. And then…oh, shock! But o wonder! She saw a most amazing sight that brought her to an abrupt standstill. These funny coloured people all stomping around happily had the most indescribable eyes. In fact, each person only had one eye, but it was large and shaped like a diamond and set right in the middle of each of their foreheads. Not only that, but when they turned to speak to one another, they looked directly into each other’s eye, and there, lo and behold, were a series of infinitely moving pictures made of the most beautiful and iridescent colours merging into wonderful images and disappearing to a far depth she could hardly surmise. She felt ecstatic and intrigued. Whenever they wanted to talk to each other, they moved their pictures and understood to a far greater degree all of each other’s thoughts and feelings and inclinations. And the only time they seemed to move their mouths was when they wanted to sing. She could hardly believe it! This meant that they could know everything that was inside one another. Nothing was held back, nothing was kept private. Everything they had was for each other. For Tuli, this was the opening of an altogether new world, and she could keep back her joy no longer. She flung wide her little arms and with an exclamation of pleasure, she ran and hugged the nearest quaint person. The joy was instantly returned, and soon they had all gathered around, and were embracing her and stomping up and down and singing and clapping. They were so happy that Tuli had come, and Tuli was so exulted, and all their eye-images were almost popping out of their heads — they were so alive and swift and wonderous. Tuli wished so much she had an eye diamond too, because she felt so full of everything, things that she had never felt before, that she thought all her middles would pretty soon come bursting out through her seed if she were not careful to keep on breathing properly. And then breathless and excited, they all sat down in a circle, with Tuli between a red one and a brown one, and hanging on tight to their big warm hands. And after a while, they explained that they were waiting for a very important person to come sailing over the sea from yonder island, and he would be coming into their midst bringing gifts. No sooner had they regained their composure than Tuli spotted a pure white boat on the horizon, and standing erect and beautiful within its prow, was the most exquisite figure with his flowing white robes

waving brightly in the sunlight. “Here he comes!” they spoke with their dancing pictures, and all arose and lined the shore, holding hands ready for his arrival, standing on the pure soft sands at the edge of the little waves, turning and breaking and folding back in again to the great ocean. Then they waited in a great stillness and silence, except for the inrushing music of the sea, and the breezes, and a few gulls wheeling overhead. The white boat had beached. The great white person was stepping out on to the shore. A light was shining resplendent all about him so that he looked to Tuli like a living star fallen from the heavens. She was overawed. He flowed along the sands and stood in a place where they could all gather around him. Tuli watched his diamond eye incredulously—it was shooting out great shafts of gentle light, the gentlest and lovingest light you could imagine, and it surrounded all of them with a great warm love, and set their very hearts a-melting into the sand. She felt swathed and cradled like a newborn seed. Never before had she felt quite so beautiful as on this day. And then the great white person came and turned directly to her, and she knew he was loving her with all of his being, and his pictures evoked the sweetest springtime she had ever seen. Everything was growing and moving and changing its form and becoming redolent of colour, and trees were budding, and grasses were greening, and birds were chanting melodious songs and the mountains were dancing, and every living thing was coming out to question the very great day of the first day of Spring. Then suddenly, her eyes were almost blinded. For right into the centre of his diamond eye, a brilliant big Yellow-Orange blazed forth, and Tuli nearly fell over with delight. She was utterly speechless. “Big Yellow-Orange! O Big Yellow-Orange!” And the tears melted down her face and into the ground. She glowed all over. He had come back, come to take her home, and the great white person had brought him especially for her, all the way over the ocean. "O Big Yellow-Orange! I love you so much! I love you so much! You verily are my bestest friend of all the rainbow rings of time. I knew you would come. How happy… I am so happy!

O thank you, great white person, for coming. Today is a new day and it will last completely until for ever and ever now that I’ve found Big Yellow-Orange." And so the great white person took her in his arms and carried her to his boat. And the quaint happy people stood waving on the shore until they were over the horizon, and to be seen no more. Although one of the red people, the one who held her hand in the circle, said that just after they disappeared, he saw a great shaft of bright Yellow-Orange light shoot down from the heavens as if it were a tongue of flame unfurling from a great fire of light, way beyond the sky’s beginning. And it seemed to gather a shining bright radiant star, and in the very middle of the star… was the most beautiful Rose Flower he had ever seen.