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Requiem and Death Part 2

Updated on September 5, 2011

Bronze Age


There you be, Gentle Reader...

I have waited for you...here in the White Mansion of the Inner Eye...Now, you have arrived and it's my guess...you wish to see...more...

so...follow me...Down

...............................Down

....................................Down....

deep into the past we shall go....hang on tight...or it will surely be a long ride home. Are we ready? Good. Just as before, please, darken the room...light some incense...and a small candle and get comfy, settle down with a warm cup of tea...or whatever is your beverage...of choice, ....and...listen....

to the ending heartbeat....

slower,

........slower...

............. s l o w e r ...

........................ s l o w.....

Very good, listen now to my voice and keep in the mind..that you are in a safe sanctuary...

we begin...with the end....and the beginning...

Imagine, with your "Inner Eye" that you are in a very large, spacious room. All the walls are white and the heavy wrought iron sconces on the far wall house the lit candles. The pieces of furniture are lost in the expanse of the room. There is a huge king size bed, canopied and heavy velvet curtained, tied back with silk ropes. The quilts are so thick, one would be swallowed in the laying down upon the bed. Pillows are fluffed and plumped. The curtains surrounding the bed begin to flutter with the incoming breeze.

The armoire on the far wall faces the right side of the bed like a soldier on sentry duty. It's intricately carved bulk is also lost in this room. The fireplace, made of large stones and heavy beam is unlit but ready for the match to strike. It is to the left side wall, facing the bed. Its open maw filled with logs and tinder. The fireplace tools are hooked and ready for use.

You stand beside a small reading table and face the windows. You hair is touched by the first strains of the rising winds. Tall Gothic windows with billowing white sheer curtains waft into the room, the sweet smell of fresh blooms accompany the breeze. Both the curtains and the bed sheers under the velvet curtains, do a windswept dance. The taste of salt water assails the senses as the waves crash on the cliffs below. A storm and the tides are coming in. The skies turn silver grey as the storm cell clouds grow taller. In the distance, the first rumbles of thunder sound. The seagulls scream at the storm and incoming waves. You need not "see" these things, it's happening. You can "feel" the storm coming. You, Dear One, are safe and secure within the walls of this mansion. The sheer curtains whip with the stronger breeze. You debate whether to seal the windows or let the air cleanse the spacious room. Lightening cracks, bright, bold and close. It rattles the sconces on the walls, the lit candles flickers and is devoured by the strong breezes. Winds whip, thunder rolls, slow and steady, followed by another crash of the surf and a huge bolt of lightning. Nature screams her name out loud and all fear her tempest anger.

Now....

.imagine...

.....the very spot you stand on houses

...............no mansion,

........................no white room,

..............................no curtains,

.................................no bed,

.......................................no armoire,

.............................................no reading table.

You feel different. Your senses are alive and your thoughts harbor nothing of a future life. You...are from a time far beyond the histories on mankind. You have journeyed...

...............................back....

....................................back....

..........................................back...

.............................................*BAM*

Another clap of thunder jars your senses. You now realize...you...are on the same spot, yet, not the same. You are now standing on the beach, the waves striking the shore in angry foam; pulling the shells and sand back into herself as she recedes. The storm rages all around and as you stand on that shore, your concentration is now interrupted. You hear chanting from behind you, just past the dunes. The wind whips your hair across your brow and you turn against the breeze and climb the dune towards the chanting. A drummer beats a steady tune and each person that is chanting is circling a large mound. Freshly hewn into the hill is a doorway and far in the distance you can see a procession. A man lies in state on a burial cot. All his finery in his dress shows him to have been important to these people. Each are clad in a course material as well as fur boots wrapped in a criss-cross of leather strips.

You have entered the Celtic Mound Builders of the Bronze Age. Tools are still primitive and still not strong. Stones and bone scrappers are still used by many who haven't skilled themselves with the art of flint-knapping. In your hand you have some dried seaweed and plant fluff. You place it into the pouch on your hip. Your pouch also contains the flint and stone needed to spark the wood for the bonfire. Clansmen and Women still circle the mound, the drummer now is joined by another drummer and a bone flute resounds between the beats. A Chieftain hero is to be buried and this ceremony is sacred for the hero to journey well into his afterlife. A horse and rider approaches and the rider jumps off the horse as he rides closer. His eyes seek the many faces until he stops at yours. You recognize him from a time long forgotten. He approaches you and bows low. He hands you a packet and you open it slowly. Within the leather folds, there is a piece of cloth with a couple of course drawings upon it. One of the villagers responds to your actions and comes to see what news has been brought to you. Soon all who have gathered around the mound begins to chant faster. The drummers banging an impossible beat to keep up with. The body lying in state is now at the doorway of the mound. He is in his finest attire with his bronze tipped spear lying across his leathered armored chest. His beaded necklace of bone and shell is placed in its forever pattern. This scrap of earth, built high and round will weather many storms. The newly sprung village harbors the promise of better living without migrating. Farming is combined with hunter's quarries. The village is thriving. Outside of the village there are already mounds that had been built. This one, more finer, the lines, more rounded. Here, this Chieftain hero will have his final mortal rest before venturing to his next existence. The procession stops and silence overcomes then all. The scream of a hawk is heard in the distance. His hawk, no doubt, having been released back to the wild. The hawk's screech is also hailing the setting sun. Soon darkness will descend upon them. In the darkening distance, the rest of the villagers arrive. They each brandish a torch and their procession can be seen for the duration of the journey to the mound. They arrive and assemble amongst the rest of the funerary clan. The first breeze of the dusk stirs the fur and leather cloak. Near the mound a bonfire pit is being ;prepared. The chants arise from a soft whisper. The drummers and bone flute player begin to play, their slow rhythm plants your foot closer....

******************************closer

*************************************closer

to the bonfire, now ready for the final ignite. You walk and inspect the bonfire pit before pulling out the tinder you collected for this solemn occasion. You place the tinder and fluff in a spot that you can spark-reach. A hush falls over the crowd as you strike the flint and stone. A tiny cascade of sparks hits the fibers. The breeze picks up and like a blessing, caresses the tiny spark and a small flame is born. This is a good sign. First Spark is important if the Chieftain is to follow a safe and lighted passage to the Other World. The chants begin anew, summoning the fire flames higher to send sparks of embers to catch and light the night. Once the Sacred Flames are at a peak, the chanters begin to stomp their foot, sending a message deep into the Other World that one of their own has come to join them. The pall bearers pick up the Chieftain's litter and follow the Torch Lighter into the bowels of the mound. When they return, the clansmen and women have encircled the mound and are chanting the final farewell. The Chieftain chosen is newly crowned and smudged with the ashes of the bonfire. In honor of the Passing of the Old to New, the new Chieftain circles the mound three times. His clan follows and does likewise. This they all shall do whenever they pass this mound. It's a tradition. It's an honor.

I now ask that you join with me...

........................back to the Inner Eye's Mansion....

..........................................You are safe...

......................................................back within the confines of the massive white room...

You have peeked...and now....believe...that all that lives...dies...and history...begins anew.

Thank you, Dear Reader...for the adventure....

.........................To...be continued....Stay Tuned...you are just beginning....

....................................................Enjoy....the ride!


© 2011 Dena M. Ferrari

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    • Dena M. Ferrari profile image
      Author

      Dena M. Ferrari 6 years ago from North Carolina

      Heyla Heather!

      Glad you enjoyed my take on a world...of long ago!

      Its Kewl that Family responded! Makes what I do...all the more...worthwhile!!Talent runs in our Family...in soooo many ways!! Trust YOUR Talent!! As you can see...I trust...mine!

      Dew Drop Inn again, Little One! Thank you for the read!

      Love you too!!!

      (((((Huggles)))))

      Brightest Blessings to you and yours!

    • profile image

      Heather 6 years ago

      A very cool read Aunt Dena. Thank you for your creativity. :) Love ya!

    • Dena M. Ferrari profile image
      Author

      Dena M. Ferrari 6 years ago from North Carolina

      Heyla Jim!!

      THANK YOU for reading this piece!! Part One was just as thrilling...you really must see it as well!! Always a pleasure to have you read my work!!

      Dew Drop Inn...again!!!

      Brightest Blessings to you and yours!!!

    • profile image

      Jim Stolz 6 years ago

      Well done , Dena ,thanks

    • Dena M. Ferrari profile image
      Author

      Dena M. Ferrari 6 years ago from North Carolina

      Heyla Joy!!!

      So glad YOU enJOYed this!!

      I am always glad to have your review!!

      Dew Drop Inn...again...there's More to the tale than told...

      Come on by!! You're always a welcomed Friend!!!

      Brightest Blessings to you and yours!

    • Dena M. Ferrari profile image
      Author

      Dena M. Ferrari 6 years ago from North Carolina

      Thanks Erich!! I have plans to continue a Time Line...as well as other oddities...hushed and unspoken...Dark it may be...but many see...the Light!!

      Glad you enjoyed!!!

      Brightest Blessings to you and yours!!!

    • profile image

      joy 6 years ago

      as always an interesting read Love ya Joy

    • profile image

      Erich J Goller 6 years ago

      the adventure goes on,I can feel the storm coming, a very imaginary story, well written,keep writing.

      God bless you.Hugs!Erich

    • Dena M. Ferrari profile image
      Author

      Dena M. Ferrari 6 years ago from North Carolina

      I bid thee welcome, Gentle Traveler...it's always great to see you again! Come, Enjoy another adventure!