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I sat beneath a silver-barked beech tree that grew at the edge of the grove, its leaves whispering secrets to the wind. The sky above was just beginning to darken with twilight, and the hoots of the owl echoed through the stillness. I have been coming here often lately, not for answers necessarily, but for questions - question that I could not put into words yet. It had started with dreams that recently begun as I began my druid studies. Vivid, unshakable dreams. In one dream, I knelt on a rocky coast in robes of blue and yellow, singing a Song I did not know yet somehow understood. In another dream, I held the hoof of a wounded deer, pressing herbs into the an arrow wound as other deer gathered around. The dreams flickered and faded but the feelings endured. It was familiarity, urgency, and a strange sense of mourning. Why do I know these things? This question has tugged at me deeper each day. I am not trying to escape my present life as I love the hidden trails in the forest, the still and cool morning drew, and the smiles of friends around the story-telling fire. But, there is a silver thread pulling at me, not away from life or death, but deeper in my life. A longing to know who or what had shaped me before I even took my first breath. This isn't just about curiosity. It is also about coherence. My father is a great soldier of the Buyan Army but I have been determined to follow a different path. I have crafted medicines using all sorts of reagents, my hands knowing more than my mind sometimes. When I hear the pained scream of an animal, my heart thumps with recognition of it's pain. When I stand in silence before a tree, words come to me I do not remember learning. I want to know who I have been, not to be that same person or animal again, but to understand what of their skills have passed on to me in this life. What vows have I once taken? Are there any mistakes I have to carry on my shoulders? Was their wisdom in the life I had before? I believe my soul is like a Song. Each chorus with something to learn. Each word is a precious moment in time. Each accompanying instrument knowledge. I now pray that the Monks will help me discover some parts of that Song. Zenath | |