A Guided Meditation to Speak with Freya
Imagine stained glass, and bay windows. Outside rolls stardust swirling around the glass, asteroids roll about, and out, you are now riding a triple-cabled conduit, long serpentine strands of flaming plasma, shimmering all-spectrum hue like a ribbon of aurora borealis, all with a mind of its own ; the royal road twisting, bending, up now down, a life of its own. The constellations twist and reform into new patterns of distant sparkle, a shifting menagerie of twinkling beasts. Coiled clouds of gas sparkle and shimmer like oil in desert air as the living phosphorescent ribbon of stars winds and roller-coasters through, drawing on through unfathomable lengths of cosmos, towards that far-beyond-dreams place of glory and stillness above it all, a rock and solid stead centered in the heart of height, a city of temples hewn from stone. The red and flaming blue and violet carpet rolls out, unfurls, and then you are before Her marble colonnades, the hall of Her most high and mighty dais, drawn o'er with membranous webs of crushed-jewel fabric, against which the air, saturated with peacock-sparkle swirls of light, reflects and pulsate-fluoresces. Every particle of light is alive, each a crystal polygon-hall of reflect where behold the swarmed awe of heavenly photon full each other.
There snow as white lynx caftan She hot golden taffy twirling syrup down undoes Her hood to sunlight's braids against a sea of shook and sensual hair, Her neck arched back, Her chest rising, She rises, up from all-erotic union dreamy, mystic from the halls of time, calling in song would-be lovers, calendar-caroling birds to mate and nest, touch soft spirit-fingers to wake chrysales to flapped orange-eye wings, and lure the candelabra-tined buck backwoods-searching to the doe. She shakes off the pheromone-frenzy of moths, dazzled against the light's ignite of sex's sweet smell in the air, and grumbling skunk come-hithers in the hollows of old spring oaks, the weave of deciduous catkins round and about the vine-twiggy shrub-thickets. She has run, slow motion as through water, through amber meadows of prairie-grass and edelweiss that links one thicket to another ; and behind Her, the holy elfinette troop, in mimesis of their Mistress, wand-and-finger tapping tips of flowers to unfold fruit, and daub that crown of canopied eye deep within the brain of every beast, to eikthyrnir-burst forth its hormone-fountains down, down, resplendent, and arouse the mating call. As shimmering phantoms woven from moonlight gauze they ride, atop the backs of spectral deer, and other creatures, all of dream, and follow their Mistress. From dais rising, and stern as soft-gaze strength of hair shook, She turns, and shyness fawns your boldness to bent knee, a lowered eye "I cannot look and must" glance upwards through eyelashes, and with devotion a million stars turned on like a city of lights, your eyes ask questions, and She begins to speak, saying ...
