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Meeting the Magic
Incredible smoke from the incense.
Incredible smoke from the incense...cupping my hand to hold it...almost real magic. Beginning to feel guided by the mushrooms. Not worrying about how far they will take me. At this part of you journey the magic wants you to open your eyes and play....
“Try not to close your eyes....” The lines of the wood floor begin to shine light...the longer you look...the more they dance. This is real magic.
The floor begins to dance. It likes the music. Shapes move. They flow. Single dancers each moving to their own rhythms. They want me to appreciate them. When my mind begins to move away...the dance begins to fade. “Pay attention to me,” the magic shouts. The dance resumes.
Laying my hands on the floor...quietly as to not disturb the magic...looking at my hands...they do not look like my hands. They are pink and chubby. The magic laughs. The dance of the shapes continue under my hands.
Getting up from the hard wooden floor...I say to myself that I have never been this relaxed in my life...I walk to see my love...a few kind words and a kiss. I must return to the floor, the magic.
The floor likes the music. Dance...flow.
After I learn to love the dance and the magic knows I respect her, she asks me to watch her closely...she wants to show me something new. I know the magic will hold my hand. Watch the entire floor...enjoy all of the dancers in unison...climb higher on my post and watch it all move at once.
All the pieces of the dance begin to turn...they twist and turn revealing beautiful shapes. Watch me closely she says... and the twists and turns of the dance fade revealing a picture...A white arch...brown grass...a field...a fence.
I marvel at the scene for a moment and try to ask the magic to show me something else. The image fades and the dancers sit down.
Okay...it is not for me to ask. Please let me see again. I apologize.
The image returns. The dancers dance one final ballad and the magic tells me that this part of our journey is complete.
I lay on my back over the sleeping dancers and look at the divider between this room and the next. The dark space between here and there...I ask the magic if she is still there...she answers by shaking the walls to the music. I am happy she is still with me. Now we can talk.
She tells me many things. She laughs. She plays jokes. She makes me argue with the chair. I know she is leaving. By making me laugh she is easing my pain. Later I ask her to dance one more time and she shakes the window with a giggle and whispers goodbye.
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