The Mage

He stand just beyond the fire, sheltered among the trees, watching.  the smoke swirls and seems to caress him as it drifts in and out among the tree limbs.  He takes a deep breath then steps inside the circle, pushes back the hood of his dark cloak and pulls the small bag that hangs around his neck, from under his clothes and steps to the center.  The smell of herbal incense seems to surround the circle, drawn with sand, its perfume drifting upon the breeze as it combines with the smoke, as if in a spiral dance.  The Mage opens the bag and pours out its contents upon the ground.  Bones, small, white, sun bleached, they tell him the answers to what he seeks.  “What do you see?”, comes the voice of the querent from beyond the sacred circle.  “The present and the future” answers the Mage.  “Why not the past”, the voice asks again.  “The past is finished.  Its purpose is only to teach us so that we learn new lessons.  Nothing is ever learned by looking backwards, the answers belong to Here”.  “I’m not sure I understand”, comes the voice.  “Are we not to learn from the past, and continue on into now”? Patiently the Mage looks at the querent .  When he speaks it as if he speaks to a child.  “You want to know what is going to happen in your future, so I explain the whys of now.  The past has already been dealt with, it cannot be changed.  It’s lessons have been explained, and if you have not learned them by now, they will reappear in your present. Not always in the same form, but it’s the same lesson”.  “I cannot tell you what to do, just show you what will appear.  What you do with it is all your responsibility”.  The Mage picks up the bones again.  He places them one by one back into the small pouch, examining each one as he does so as if speaking to them individually.  He puts it back around his neck, dropping it down within the confines of the heavy cloak he wears.  He then picks up a small cedar branch and begins the task of sweeping away the circle chanting softly as he does so.  As he nears the place where he started, he lays the branch down and reaches for the soft feather that lies next to the fire.  He wafts the incense to all four corners , still softly chanting.  As he turns to the one who had requested his work, he smiles for the first time.  “Go in peace”, he says.  “Take care of Here, and what will be shall be”.  Then as if in a blink, the Mage seems to disappear from sight.  All that remains is the small fire as if to remind the querent that the light resides within.

DEUCES