Song of the Fairy King

Funny how life knocks you over the head.

When I was teaching overlay with Jung as common ground, I had no clue I was in for an awful breakup, stress coming at me from every direction, and nearly losing the last person I expected to be of special significance to me across my entire lifespan. Not just the here and now. The past, the present, and perhaps…the future as well.

Hold on to a song of love, to a memory, to take your hand and never look back at the gilded cage. For there the bird cannot cry, the bird is alone, the bird cannot fly.

I thought I was helping you awaken to the overlay. I assumed the role of the High Priestess in our group, thinking one day that my mantra, “Everyone leaves, everyone goes,” would hold fast. To teach you all I could, then send you on your way. The teacher who admires the students who surpass her and go on to experience more of life that she cannot instruct them on.

Stop running from me. Stop clinging to the past that doesn’t want you there.

You woke up so fast, I’ve never witnessed anyone recalling their spiritual heritage as quickly as you have, and yet it saved our little group time and time again.

And I remembered. My maternal grandfather left one item to me before he died. I never met him, I was born after his death. And yet he left me one thing. Just one.

An old, battered copy of A Midsummer’s Night Dream by William Shakespeare.

The Elysium past the bird’s cage.

To the realm of fae I choose to go, where water runs free and the wind does blow.

You can follow me anywhere. I’ll take you anywhere. I’ll guide you there.


Cast a pebble

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