Cecilia/ Sacred.Part 3. December 3^rd 2020.

“Sacred Touch. Sacred Meeting.”

 

He heard the words as if they were alive, dancing in space in the room, sliding around the Christmas tree still waiting to be decorated, floating over the grand piano where he was sitting, caressing the keys of the instrument like he was moving his fingertips through her fur. Gently, carefully, lovingly, with an intent to listen to the music of her presence, the one thing which would open his heart up wide. With her, everything had been possible. With her, his whole life – and not just his work – had become a symphony.

 

People had called him crazy, taking in a 60 kg rescued wolf in his house when he already spent close a full work day behind the piano quite often seven days a week. How would he have time for the hours of movement, care and attention this animal required ?

But he knew. The minute he had looked in to her eyes, he knew. This was it. Why he was here on this earth. Why she was here on this earth.

 

The magic he felt under his fingertips when playing the piano, the magic which spun its way in to human hearts and living room speakers, came from the wild, from the habitat which she was. 

 

Together they had roamed many nights under the stars in the snow, many days up and down the mountains during the light months of the year, spent many mornings down at the lake fishing in each their own way.

 

“Sacred Fierceness”.

 

The words danced around him again. He felt in his soul abode that it was her. She was speaking to him from the other side of the veil. The way the words moved there was no other possibility.

 

The past months since he’d lost her, he found himself more misplaced than ever. 

Not even the music could lead him back. For months his state of mind was in a place of constant straying.

Then, one morning, a strange looking half grey, half white feather swirled down from the rooftop, landed in his morning coffee as he was sitting on the porch looking for the meaning of that day with all his might. 

 

The way the feather danced was the beginning of this new symphony he was working on right now.

 

Home.

He had wanted to call it Home. Yet the word “Sacred” kept coming up. Wherever he looked, whatever he did, whatever he read, whatever he listened to, the word was there. 

He got the hint. Named the symphony “Sacred Home”. 

 

Yet right now he was in a place where his heart felt a need to become unbroken before he could continue with what he’d worked on these last three days since the feather had landed.

 

“Marcus?”

Gina, his only neighbor, peaked in through the front door. Bob, the Labrador, as always right next to her.

 “Did you write the words  “Sacred Fierceness” in the snow out front?”

 

 

Cecilia Götherström, Dec 3rd 2020.