Dea Luna

The Village of the Gods

On my 3- wheeler bike with a big basket, like I had when I was Anne Shirley (Ashontotoplee Asah” (that’s me”) a fun and lovable person who is insanely beautiful, the Goddess), the fresh cut flowers smell divine while riding. I pull behind me Gandalf’s cart filled with goodies to give away at the market to the townsfolk (fonshee) “Gods at Play”.

I travel through the small forest glen, in early autumn, through the “Gold Way of Delight”, with my kitty familiar who comes along to keep me company and frolic through the village to say hi to his friends. His name is Flonsaflah (a beautiful God named “Freddie”) and he enjoys the fresh air and scent of honeysuckle on the breeze.

Sometimes he rides on my shoulders, sometimes in a basket, he is a cat who loves to frolic through fields of flowers, he cuddles and falls asleep at my knee.

I drop my goods off at my stall, which is in the center square of town, and then I am off to shop. Nobody need man the stalls, the entire village is family after all, there is no money to trade, no bartering, just sharing all the goods we make.

My stall is what you would expect of the Goddess, highly decorated, natural and beautiful, but peaceful and gentle filled with flowers from my garden, herbal products such as lotions and potions, hand-dyed linens, and art made from nature. The crystals, incense and magikal things I collected from around the world are in my botanical boutique, in a lovely restored Victorian with a wrap-around porch, where the “Magii” (magical ones) meet to play cards and eat handmade cakes and candies made of edible flowers, pretty things created by a God named “Fonsee” (Esontoplee).

In the front parlor botanical pleasures, upstairs a room for “dealuna” (a place to worship the moon, the goddess moon), with a view of the mistress from the window. A kitchen filled with foods created by townsfolk, teas from the parlor of “Eflee” (Avlee, my mother), tables and chairs with flowers in vases, and candles lit in the evening. The garden in the back is a filled with magikal “fleeah” (herbal things), to use to make magikal packages, wrapped in beautiful fabrics and ribbon, for whatever your intention.

The dark parlor in back, is called “Hecate’s Lair”, it is the meeting place of the dark goddesses, where they meet to read fortunes and tell their fate, they meditate and levitate and let go of past hate. Crystals and herbs are placed in their “akenseah” (place in the mind that is not real but they think is real, so they need to heal), by the “Akempleatohsheenee” (master magician who is a soul mate and also a healer, named “Flee”).

In the square, my one of my soul mates “Kartoosh” (Cary) is playing the mandolin on a staircase in front of a carpenters shop. The village of the Gods is filled with artists of all kind, the players in the center of the square, the musicians are everywhere, painters surround the village in the natural spaces, and children run wild and free, frolicking around playing and singing. The poetics spout verse, the bikers curse, and nestled into tiny spaces around the village are places to laze and relax, to kiss and make love, to drink wine and tea, to be….. to just be.

I carry with me linen bags to collect my fresh-baked bread from “Asoo Anee” (John the “Peenshah” (baker), the “honshenfleah” (bakery) smells divine today, as usual, and I collect a bread to serve with my soup of “fonsah” (vegetables at the highest level, healthy, lovely). The homemade honey butter with herbs at the gourmet food store will pair well with the sourdough bread. The herbal boutique with products and herbs from my families gardens will have the ground rosemary I need for the soup.

I collect the goodies which sit safely in my bike parked outside the lovely storefronts in the village, with artistic signage and window displays. I think I will visit my brother in his “sonsaplah” (art studio) today, which is connected to his gallery on the old cobblestone road. After I shop I will sit with my “konsatoo” (mother of earthly relations) to have tea in her parlor, then finish my shopping in the market square for veggies.

As the night falls, the campfires and torches are lit in the square, everyone gathers for “midnight madness”. The shops are still open, mine by candlelight and Moroccan lanterns, rainbows of light and color glow on the walls, sparkling fairy lights strung through the halls, fireplaces are lit, and the family gathers in the places and outdoors, with gypsy tents galore; woven blankets to sit upon, torches lit and the sound of drums. Musical instruments are played, dancers hit the stage, the vampires and pirates dressed in frocks gaily parade. The fairy-tale castle is lit from beneath, the moon peaks from behind, we spend the warm summer night being beautiful.

The village of the Gods is not a fairy-tale at all, it is a place in our minds that is manifesting, right before our eyes, a place of our own that we call home, and.

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