Şifalâhe: Honey of Healing

An extraordinarily beautiful woman stood unclad upon the shore, so placid, plainly glad to see me leap and turn, sweep and churn so freely and gleefully in the clear, cool waters; then surprised me and dived into the small sea of revival with appearance of primal force. She quickly made course to my side and looked into my eyes, and what did she spy? Nothing hidden; nothing for me to deny, yet there was no shame, no blame; only claim upon my better self … the someone being torn from past with Bast and being born anew.

“Yes, this is true,” she softly spoke, holding me, pressing breast to chest. “This day is new and bright, with no plight of past…” And before I could speak, “Yes, it will last for as long as you want to belong to this moment, wherever you might be; sight and sound of this new day you may carry with you. This belongs to you now, as new song of your soul.” Keeping back my tears — no, I could not — but my weeping seemed to please her and appease some deep desire. Good. Pure. Refreshing. “Let them flow and the wind blow them away; let the waters bathe you and swathe you in purity and divine assurety. Here there is no cruelty, as you can tell, as you can feel, as the waters peel away all of the hurt and pain, strain and ill-gain, and stain of life lived before.”

Her words tore, but I bore them with strange, mystic pleasure like some celestial treasure. “Who are you?”

“Şifalâhe, one daughter of the Tri-Mater … sent by one bent on on attention to your redemption.” She smiled again, pressed open mouth to mouth, and breathed into me what seemed to be … youth and truth, vitality … simple spirituality, ethereal sensuality. “Healer. Here to freely give you wealth of health,” Şifalâhe spoke as she stroked my back. “Sink now to drink the fine wine of life I offer…” She gently persuaded me to my knees, completely at ease to open and please this one so young with heavenly honey slowly flowing to be tasted and enjoyed, swallowed and employed in ongoing restoration from night of such desperation and deprivation. Şifalâhe filled me to satisfaction with no depreciation to herself, no deflation, frustration, aggravation … only ejaculation of joy.

“Can you feel the energy? The synergy of heaven and earth? Virgin birth of your own invaluable worth? Can you feel the Spirit within, without, and all about? Here in these verdant hills, can you feel the fervent love of ever-observant Dyēus?” Tightly Şifalâhe pulled me to her mightily and lightly kissed with brightly lips … and smiled such smile that outshone the high-noon sun. “Can you feel the surge of new urge to live? Can you feel light and truth emerge, and converge with joy and peace, at last, as your past fades away? Can you feel the tidal waves of all good that saves?” Her eyes held me captivated, and I had no desire to be emancipated, but to live in the moment forever, so potent in my atonement.

Her deep, brown skin was soft as down, yet firm, and crown of Şifalâhe hue of sky-blue hair in pair with colour of ruddy soil of Gaia, like an ever-flowing flower over powerful shoulders, streaming down supremely curved back; well toned muscles, perfectly honed legs and arms that would do me no harm. There … there was only love from above. Raw. Primordial. This I clearly saw and felt without question. I needed no suggestion; this was more than impression. This, the Deep, inviting me into its keep? Yes. No. Kept in protection with no rejection, but not imprisoned; no! Never … not ever in all eternity. Yet union in communion here and forever after. Was this the reason for pantheon reach, to teach me? To claim without blame; to train without chain? To sift and lift as freely given gift?