But all things change in time,
Just as the cycle of the year brings birth,
Fruition,
Resting and renewal,
So it is with people,
And as the years crept by I knew my time was coming to a close.
I saw it first as a shimmering white void upon the horizon,
Whereas before I had always been able to see the pathway of my life ahead,
Sometimes clear and straight,
At others misty with many twists and turns,
There came a time when I could see nothing and knew not what the future might hold.
I have waited a long time for them to join me,
Or perhaps it has been merely the blink of an eye,
But the time has passed pleasantly enough,
Our beautiful daughters are grown with children of their own,
And I have watched them visit the well,
Continuing the tradition,
Perhaps in different ways,
But all things have their season and their passing.
And people visit,
From all walks of life and all religions,
Each finding spiritual refreshment and their own particular path to the top of the same mountain.
More spirits rest here than I could ever have imagined,
Gentle spirits from time immemorial guarding the holy well and the chapel in their own special way,
Creating its atmosphere of peace and tranquillity.
Sometimes I stand watching the stars in the night sky and making up stories,
Whilst at others I see the sun and shadows play upon the hillside opposite and wonder what tales are hidden there,
Waiting to be told.
Cornelius was the first to join me and we were reunited again,
Although I had watched over him for many years.
No one will be a while yet,
For he has much left to do in life,
But in time his spirit will return here once more.
And Dan,
I have stayed with Dan every moment he has spent in the valley and the chapel.
I have been beside him as he fished the river,
Walked the paths,
Lain in the sun on the top of the highest rock and rested on the wooden bench,
And known he has thought of no one but me.
But today is a day of celebration,
For he is coming home and we will be reunited once again,
For I now know we have spent many lifetimes together,
In one guise or another,
And this is not the end,
Merely a continuation until the next time.
Dear men,
Dominic,
Duncan,
Davy and Dan are all but different facets of the same spirit,
For although we have many lives,
One spirit traverses them all,
Just as Cornelius,
Joanne and myself have lived many times before.
I see him now,
Making his way towards me from the riverbank,
The sunlight flashing on the water behind him,
And all at once he is young and old,
The young man I fell in love with thousands of years ago,
And the wise green man,
The spirit of the earth.
By coincidence,
Or perhaps not,
For does coincidence really exist,
It is Midsummer's Eve and Joanne is sitting on the bench,
As he does without fail at this time every year.
He cannot see Dan making his way towards us from the river,
Although he will hear of his passing upon his return,
Nor is he aware of Cornelius and myself sitting on either side of him,
Waiting patiently,
Yet a part of him knows,
And a feeling of peace encompasses us all,
For in the end we all are one.
The nurturing earth beneath our feet and the sun above us,
Sending warmth and light in order that the crops may grow,
The moon lighting the darkness of the night,
The breeze which whispers its way through the valley,
And the sound of the ever-rushing water,
Singing its soft melodies and telling its own story to all who care to listen,
The earth-mother and the green-father who give us life and hold the answers to all the questions we might ever wish to ask.
During the daytime the ravens call and tumble in the skies,
And at night the moon rises,
Casting her magical light all around,
And if you wait for long enough you will hear the rustle of the undergrowth as a stoat quietly passes,
And you will see the great white owl sweeping down the valley on its never-ending flight.
Take my hand,
I reach out,
His hand is in mine,
And we are reunited once again.
The dots have been joined,
The picture complete,
For the moment at least.
We stand together,
Our spirits entwined as one,
Watching the sun set over the brow of the hill as we have done so many times in the past,
And yet there is never an end,
Merely a resting,
Until our spirits return and a new journey begins once more.
