A SPELL ENCOUNTERED

BY

The Wizard of Od

The rain had come again. It fell all around and made itself known by taking on its own individual forms; and creating its own identical, yet unique, little sounds. Beyond this rose, and fell, in ascending and descending strength, the vibrations of a thunderous voice that seemed to help those little droplets find their way to the bottom of their fall. And, in and out, and surrounding all of this, an overpowering erratic illumination took place as though it was supposed to be there; yeah, as though it needed to be seen and needed to show what was otherwise concealed.

As I sat myself down this time (like so many times before) it was yet

another day; in fact, this time it was night. And the things described as taking place now have taken place in other times, even in other ways; even in the daytime.

Those magickal droplets have always fallen. Sometimes they appear as if in a solid body, out of which days and nights have been spent without discernment. Then, in such a state, something would transform the perception, and time would be spent experiencing the anointment. For instance, I found myself on pleasure barges where big fishes chose to jump up and bite at my toes and the hairs on my legs before bathing me with lusty licking; not just on my toes and legs, but everywhere on my skin, until orgasmic frenzy, rose up to sizzle in the stream of droplets cascading down, seemingly from everywhere and to cool the fires rising from within me. The fishes would set all into motion, like a primal cell-dance; and it would be played out, both night and day, neither the fishes nor the droplets, seeming to care if I ever say through such a perception.

Then things would change again; for it has happened to many others in their own way. I realized I was not sitting where I had been before and I perceived the time had come to move, either forward or backward or sideways, but it really did not matter because none observing this would perceive any difference. The fishes cared, though; we would together spend the time adoring the droplets dissipating in the encounter with my internal heat; they would disappear into thin air as if they never fell at all. I crawled in amongst what was taking place and I wished I could remain, but time ruled that it was not yet to be.

Then I noticed that the droplets themselves had become illuminated, but not by that which surrounds them. And, at this point, they fell regularly, though not all at once. It was beautiful to watch; and everyone who might have witnessed this knew there was nothing else to observe except what was surrounding themselves.

I sat myself down, wondering how I felt about all of this; lo, there is a lot more that holds my wonder. I feel one way or another about most things, and have done so for quite a long time. But, sometimes, I don’t feel at all because I forget, or maybe I don’t really care.

Soon it will be another day and I notice that I am standing again; while beyond this reality the rain may have stopped. But, I know that when the night returns, as it always has, other encounters will find me, naked and aroused, enthusiastic and willing, and ready and able to resume the dance – or to maybe just lie down and dream…….