Once upon a time there was a soul who decided to depart from its home Shining Star, called Hramim, and come to Earth. In those times, the humans had darkened the Earth with their deeds and thoughts, and a great being of light had sworn to help them become once again what they really were: pieces torn from God.
Together with an entire army of luminous souls, hearing the call of this magical being, the soul floated gently, to the thicker layers of the Blue Planet and laid, like a sparking flake, nested at the breast of the Great Mother, to grow and spread its light to the extinguished hearts of the people who had lost their way.
You see, in order to be able to stay on Earth, one had to get into a grand wheel and spin with it, knowing what one came for and ready to jump out of it anytime, to performe one’s work, the work that brought all souls there. The wheel was wondrous, it absorbed the souls completely and many of the ones who came to help forgot about the Earth and stayed in the wheel: it was enchanting, and they stayed to enjoy the mendacious swirl.
About the same time, another Stellar Soul of Hramim also descended to the Earth. This crystal white soul was shining in its thin veils of wisdom mastery. And it got into the Wheel, too.
Jumping on and off the Great Turn, the two souls kept meeting again and again. First, after being father and daughter on their home star, they came together through the Ring of the Taurus as teacher and disciple.
Getting on Earth, they dove into the waters of the Great Flood and patiently accompanied the Great Warrior who fought the evil.
Then they flew together to a planet in the heart of the Milky Way and worked there as parent and child, until the Earth was ready to welcome them one more time.
Two hundred centuries ago, the two souls decided to bring, for the first time, their love into the Great Wheel. They descended into a realm we now call India, as husband and wife, and planted there the seed of Power Supreme, in the place that was to become a cradle of love and the science of love.
After waiting a long, long time, twenty centuries ago, the two souls returned into the Wheel, again as a parent and child, but the one who had been the father was now the son, and the one who had been the child was now the mother. They accompanied the Light of the East when it was filling the world with the new loving soul, teaching the underprivileged humans, in whose heart the flame was no longer burning, to bring back into their lives the warmth and brilliance of the Flames. They accompanied the Great Teacher on his path, to the end, and stayed to watch the newly tailored road.
Then their eyes pointed to an old stronghold, named in another time Ur, that greatly, greatly needed help. They again descended together, one as a mentor and the other as a student, to start over their eternal Work of Light and Love. And, when their threads of life came again to an end, they streamed back into the Wheel, waiting for the next occasion for their twin flames of their souls to come and brighten again the world. The student was now a child, the master was the mother, and the time was old, but not that long ago. The eternal city they chose to come to was called Rome. The souls were learning, each time they came out of the wheel, a new kind of love. They were sculpting each other, getting together into the ways of perfection.
Time span them afterwards in places we now call Paris, ten centuries ago, Russia, seven centuries ago, Nubia, and they were again parent and child, child and parent, lover and beloved. They descended, as Dutchmen, in the South of Spain, in the dark days of burning the Magi on the stakes, and the mother of that time wept over her child dying in flames.
In Judea in the seventeenth century A.D., they came as brothers, and in the eighteen century they returned, again, to Paris, at protector and protegee. Stardust, in the ashes of an Empire.
Each time they were getting on and off the Wheel, their fatigue and oblivion grew. They needed more and more time to remember each other and their conjoint work. Lastly, they awaited for the Awakening of the Earth to embody once more. And they wandered long time through forgetfulness and sorrow and pain, until the Light decided to open, once again, the way, bringing them together, from two continents, on a third, into the Green Heart of the Planet, to help them remember.
They floated into the cosmic wisdom of hidden places and unknown spots from the heart of the Forest, helped by Magi and Light Beings, reclaiming their memories and connections, slowly, like beings waking up from a deadly sleep of oblivion. Then they climbed upon the wings of the great iron eagles who carried them into the four directions, knowing their Work was still not done, and that they had to finish what the Great Wheel had torn, with tooth and nail, each time.
So therefore, in plain Indian summer day, the space bent, shortened and streamed from one place to another, bringing together again these two souls. Each time they met, they remembered more, and the traveler laid his story on the headrest of the one who had waited, patiently, knowing that the time would come, sooner or later. The time was shrinking and stretching like molasses and the light of the two souls started doing what it knew: it started to grow.
The travel and the place were not haphazard this time, as well. The first soul was coming to this place for the first time, the other had previously known them . So they proceeded to reading the unseen messages from the golden transparent warm autumn air, touching everything like children who see things for the first time, looking and tasting and laughing at the new memories they kept finding with each and every step.
The traveler met friend souls of the one who had opened wide the gates of remembrance. In this life, the master was learning from the student. The student was the master’s eyes. The friend souls were amazed by the Light that was flowing each time the mist of the two met and fused. The rooms they were dwelling got filled with this golden haze, loving and warm, that enveloped all the others into its magic – a mystery, the journey a mind cannot explain, but the soul knows too well.
And there was time for the sight of the first Soul to enter the veils of the second, to loom the Way and the Gifts. Reading in his Great Book, it increased the burden, as much as he could carry, for the good fulfillment of the deeds they needed to do together.
And thus, patiently, the twin flames opened the Gates of the Heart for twelve chosen ones, who were about to change their lives to come to the Light. Opening them like flower petals, drenching them in the golden flakes of Love so that they could grow and find their scent, cleaning the honey colored core of the bitterness of storms and all dead insects, the two gathered in their unseen pouch all these and promised to make all things inside return for ever into the Ones they came out from . Time stood still, and the space shattered into pieces, and the twin souls traveled, unknown, to the Heart of God and back, coming with piles of gold for those waiting in the earthly realm.
Gladly and gratefully, the souls distributed the Gifts, for the to work in the hearts of the Twelve, unknown, weeks in a row.
The roads were flowing, flowing, and the power of Love pushed the twin flames on their way to remembrance: they floated to the Sacred Mountains, in the Valley of the Fairies, and sat down to talk to the Forest and its wonderful beings. Small fairies, large fairies and other beings started to show up and the trees began speaking; the Gates of the Heart of that land opened. With the joy of meeting again, the two laid their exhausted foreheads and lips into the blanket of the night, and the first ray of the Sun woke them up, as the Moon, round and white, watched their shelter. And Time leaped again, ran to hide into the pockets of the heart, and when they cleared up, this golden chariot was carrying them up, up to the Triple sacred Road in the heart of the enchanted mountains. They were going there under the arcane assent, to find what the crystal white Soul left a long, long time ago, buried under the stone guards and watched by the all-seeing eyes of the omniscient Sphinx.
Mother Earth showed to their cleanliness under the shape of a white bitch, after the offering of water and love gifts. The dog showed the way to the Medicine Wheel and patiently pointed to the secret spots where the two needed to embrace the watchers and the ancestors, so that the gates to the treasure could open.
They opened , one by one, with no haste, all seals, and then bowed and prayed to the Great White ones to carry them to the buried mysteries. Now, like then, each of the two was doing what they knew best. They were dancing into eternity, protector and initiate, worker and watcher, laboring with the power of Love into the hard rock until it changed into golden water and it opened to take out what the twin souls were looking for.
The autumn was summer, tears of joy were flowing, the skies – clear and without any trace of cloud, and the white guard changed into dog awaited, patiently, for the closure of what needed to be closed.
The chariot carried them, floating, back to the valleys. They slid further, to the wonderful lands of the Violet Flame and the invisible gates kept by Saint Gabriel. As they were travelling, a fortress wall appeared on the top of a hill, and the crystal white soul flinched… his heart was remembering. Gates opened, once again, and the memory of the church mason rushed into today
, with the power of a spring creek.
Again, one opened the gate, as the other entered. The work could only be done together.
The Portal closed gently behind them and they bode further, to the soul of the country they were roaming. They stopped at dusk time, by the clear waters of a mill’s wheel, to quench their thirst with the endless kind heartedness of the people over there, and with the joy of the ripen harvest of those people’s hard working hands. Pink flames and love were pouring from the skies, feeding the light of the burning wood in the stove, and whispers coalesced with a bridge of mind and heart the fate of the twin souls.
When light came back to the land, the Violet Flame called without any power of thwart, to the place where a man learned his mastery, this time forever- the place where this wondrous Teacher has been watching for centuries for the cleansing and shift of the human kind. They were floating, bewitched, remembering the teachings, with their human bodies’ soles remembering long forgotten steps and the mystery preparation words of the Work.
The Way, abunding in bends, but smooth, took them to the Gates of the Skies, to find their secret wreath. Gates opened. Padlocks unfastened. Candles lit, tribute to the souls of children, too early departed from the Earth, to the Keepers of the Gate, to the ones who walked the lands before us, and the Light opened into a bright water lily to show its inner secret Wreath for the two.
The Work. The service. And the Duty.
Gliding back, into the sunny day, their bodies were changing by the minute. They freshened and rested, paying the due price for the gifts they received, as good news about shelter came from far away , within the open and pure heart of a befriended soul. Gates were opening again, and the stop, a marvelous one, broke again the dam of the golden mist, which flooded the room and the two, melting Time until it turned into a tiny point, gold as well – a point from which they could depart to anywhere, anytime. Thousands of thin luminous threads were weaving between them, between now and then, between what there was and what will be, and their Work grew like yeast dough, so that, on that grand day, it was the turn of the student to teach the teacher, and the mist grew as tall as the mountains and encircled them, again and again, awakening every light wire in the unseen bodies. Human touch, soul touch and joy of the lips poured on to the causeways of the old borough, through the scented vapor of taverns, into the soft sheets of the late day rest, and inundated the chambers of the Fountain the two came to open and offer as oblation to the thirsty ones, bringing sanctified waters from the great Water of the Green Heart. And the people listening to the twin spark opened their hearts and received the Water, bringing, in exchange, power gifts.
Joy was flowing around them. At the time of feast, grand sky celestial bodies were beginning to line up, foretelling the wonders that were to come. The Light of the East, Light of Love, and the Wisdom were slowly gathering next to Grandmother Moon, and the twin flames knew magic nights were to come: the alchemy nights of perfecting the first step in their secret chemistry. They left the world to advance into their unseen lair and work, work, work again, under the soft and warm wing of the night, nested in the embrace of the mountains, by the walls of the old borough.
They left, weary, in the morning, to yet another Great Book to read for looming what there was and what there is to be. And when they touched the entrenchments of the castle between the rivers they knew, again, what had happened long ago, and their love was jumping the old stairs, curling around the pillars of their ancestry, playful but deep, deep like the silent and clear waterholes of mountain lakes still remembering the taste of the ice that slept there for ages.
Before their Return to the World, they floated to magic places, laden with the wisdom of the South and Sunrise, and with the Love from Sunset. They met other workers and built with those the Medicine Wheel for those who were and these Lands. At dusk time, they took from the secret pouch all worry, pain and anguish of the twelve chosen ones and entrusted the Sacred Fire with those, so that it would bring them back to the Being / Non-Being, to the Mother-Father of all there is, with love and bent foreheads, saying the secret words they had learned from the brothers in the Great Mountains.
Then they turned back to their work and made yet another step on the Great Alchemy Ladder, mixing the juices of the Earth with love and keeping them for those looking for knowledge.
Dawn caught them, just fallen asleep, after this wondrous work had come to an end, enfolding in it the Sun, the power and wisdom of plants, the blood and milk of the Earth and a little bit of that golden mist.
The Sun rose once again and they departed on the learning path, to talk to the Forest. Around them, deer and rabbits were swishing, acorns were falling like a rain of light. Walking in silence, speaking with their hearts, no words, every step was a prayer. Although the leaves were bound to turn gold the forest stayed stubbornly green, as if the gold mist would postpone, again and again, the first frost. Half into October, the summer kept these lands in its embrace and lay quiet and soft around the twin flames. They took the light of the forest and came back with it, eyelashes heavy with sleep, to put mint leaves into the holy water and rest into their tired bodies.
And when the evening time came, they entered, again, the Work. Melting their light into the one of the Sunset Magi, straightening the twisted things, helping the fallen, they drifted through the night, souls tied to the Great Middle Sun, until the first rays of light, between enchanted potions and alchemy nourishment, and then nested, welded, to seal the Work and danced to celebrate it. They started gliding back to the world. They rejoiced in the worldly delights and wove new bridges, looking for old deeds between the ancient stones in the walls and the voices embedded in them . Glee flowed around them.
The morning work for a luminous soul provided them with the key to the gates and they rushed again into the cosmic dance that had started in the night of the Earth fruits, along the straight line between the Morning Star, the Moon and the Father of Wisdom. The powers of these celestial bodies were tremendous, dazzling, stupefying, and brought with them all the thought could think, at the speed of thought. The twin flames were dreaming their world into being.
With one foot into the Wheel and one on the Ground, they gathered in a bunch all memories and ingrained them into their eyes. Angels of light descended onto their faces. And although the eyelids were leaking tears, the heart was calling out Love, and the road about to end was just the first teaching. One in a row. There was no choice, they could either nod and follow, receiving Gift after Gift, or do whatever the small moody Ego would have wanted and then fall back into the Wheel. All things fought the transient separation, three were the gates they had to pass to fulfil the departure, knowing that there was yet another step and another step. Magi were returning to the World, to rest for a moment before going forward.