From time to time we wander through the days of old. We take with us the memories of our past and relive them without thinking of anything different. We cry out the names of the gods and goddesses of ancient memory. We crave the touch of the guardians. One look up to the clouds above and we search for the answers. The single crystalline tear falling from our eyes.
A shadow of memories. The ancient ones grant us wisdom that we rarely listen to. That gut instinct that we ache to understand, that sixth sense that so many do not want to listen to. Many times it causes war and we suffer for it.
In Her name i do raise my hands to the Moon above. Her symbol of life. In His name i raise my hands to the Sun above. His symbol for life. They both intertwine, and without one we do not have the other.
In the castles of past to the homes of today, they both are living from time to time in all of our hearts.
~jess~
