Wandering through the Halls of Soul Food Cafe

Writing Prompt: http://trainsofthought.wordpress.com/sfcnooks/

MEMORIES OF CLAIMING MY NOOK

It is late in the evening. The rain that seems to have been falling for days has finally stopped, though one can still hear the drip, drip of heavy drops of water fall from the house eaves. It has been such a long and dreary time here in recent months. There has been little to stir the imagination into new dreams of open-ended possibilities.

Days begin and end with such heaviness of heart that sometimes it is difficult even to pretend to smile. A frozen face is as difficult to chip away at as a piece of precious and hard marble. And yet I know of a sculptor who can see the soul in the block of stone. Like Michelangelo, she knows what lies beneath. It is time to seek her out again, to find my way back to the mystical landscape where L’Enchanteur resides.

Yes, this is where I must go, quickly, now, before the dawn breaks, carrying all its concomitant responsibilities that push their insistent little fingers across my eyes and down my throat, forcing their way into the deepest recesses of my soul. They claim me for themselves alone.

But not today. Before they rise, I shall be gone. I am retracing my steps, back to that magical land where my soul and creative life first found its voice, back to that hallowed ground where the first tiny fragile seedlings of my inner being began to sprout. I am returning to the place where it all began, where dreams are nurtured, a magical world where one can wander freely through the halls of enchantment.

Many moons ago I crossed the threshold of Riversleigh Manor, and it was here especially where I found my true home, a space to call my own. Each night I fell into my bed, my heart full of all that suddenly transformed from what some would have deemed madness, into possibilities and reality. Each morning I awoke with a song in my heart and I couldn’t wait to jump out of bed and race downstairs to join my fellow travellers. Truly it was a magical time.

I shall embark on a long and overdue sojourn, a journey back home, a re-turning, where I shall take my ease and meander once again through those wondrous halls of Soul Food Cafe.

To begin I have found the very first entry I ever made on SFC. Indeed it was the very first piece of creative writing I ever engaged in! Meeting L’Enchanteur was quite simply the most amazing experience of my life. I felt like a child who had been taken by the hand and escorted into some heavenly abode, an emporium of exquisite toys and games created for nothing more than the pursuit of happiness. Hand on my heart, I can honestly say that I do not believe that it is possible to experience elsewhere the levels of delight that lie in wait here, hiding behind hidden thresholds and magical portals.

Soul Food Cafe is exactly what it says it is – food and nurturance for the soul.

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 What is written below was first posted on Soul Food Cafe in July 2006.

We came in on the ship, sailing into the port late in the evening when twilight was beginning to fall. Lamplights were slowly coming on, dotting the harbour with bright, luminescent lights here and there. The fog seemed to be billowing in like clouds off the surface of the sea. After docking it took us all a while before we found our land legs again and felt steady enough to begin our search for somewhere to stay for a night or two. Someone suggested that since the hour was so late, the best course of action would probably be to divide up and for each of us to head off in a different direction and seek shelter. We agreed to meet up again at 10 pm and share our findings.

A large market square lay just beyond the end of the port, and although it lay empty now, there was plenty of evidence of the busy day that had been. Now however the maids and men were all retired back to the hearth and hearts of their homes and families. Large old houses surrounded the market square, many terraced, but some with gaps in between.

Heading for one of these I discovered that it was a narrow laneway, that seemed to stretch far ahead into the distance. As I stood at the entrance to the lane wondering whether or not to see what lay ahead, a figure emerged from the fog as if out of nowhere, and she beckoned to me with her hand.

She was tall and had an air of peace and serenity about her. Her long black hair hung down her back over her tan coloured leather dress, heavily embroidered with images and symbols impossible to decipher from such a distance, and long fringes dangling from the hem and apron. Her eyes were almost as dark as her hair, and she flashed a beautiful and gentle smile. I think I heard her whisper, ‘’Come with me’’, but cannot be sure whether it was really her voice I heard or the sound of the wind whistling down the narrow passageway.

So I followed her, and as I wandered down after her, I could hear the receding voices of my travelling companions gradually becoming more and more distant, until finally I could hear them no more. Before long I had completely lost any sense of my bearings and was completely and utterly lost. The dim glow of the lamp lights were left far behind, so that it seemed as if the further we walked, the deeper we slipped into darkness.

After what seemed like hours spent twisting and turning down alleys and backways, we finally stopped in front of a huge oak door. My companion knocked 3 times, and there was a sound as if someone was scraping a sharp object across a stone floor. The heavy door was slowly pulled open by a tiny woman with long silver hair tied back in a ribbon to expose her face, which was pale and almost transparent in appearance. But like my new companion, she also smiled a warm smile of greeting. I think she uttered ‘Welcome’, but as before, cannot be certain that I didn’t imagine it.

A huge fire burnt in the grate on the further side of the room, throwing long shadows across the floor and casting dancing shapes against the wall. Three armchairs were drawn up alongside the hearth and I was directed to one of these by the bent old woman. The younger woman also sat down, and then I saw that a small table was placed beside my seat on which a full glass of wine was placed. She motioned for me to drink. So I lifted the glass of deep, ruby red wine to my lips and never before or since have I ever tasted such nectar from the gods. It was such a wonder to me that I forgot my manners and gulped down almost half the glass in one long draught.

A warm heat began to infuse my body, and with it an accompanying drowsiness. Unable to keep my eyes open any longer I let them shut, but although heavily somnolent I did not sleep, nor did I think that either of them meant me to.

It seemed to me then that the room became filled with the presence of many beings, but whether they were male or female, adult or child, I cannot tell, for although I sensed them nearby, and even heard whisperings, I could make out neither image nor sound. One thing I do know is that they meant me no harm. For some reason, known only to themselves at this time, they wanted me to know that they were here too with us in Duwamish Bay. It remained to be discovered why.

I must have finally drifted off to sleep, for when I awoke I found myself alone in an empty, cold and dark room. I pulled myself to my feet and made my way towards the door which lay ajar. Pulling it closed behind me I turned left, wondering how I would ever find my way back to my companions.

Yet I need not have worried for it appeared that I travelled no further than about 100 feet from the entrance to the laneway, and there they all were, gathered in the middle of the square, animatedly debating who had found the best option for our accommodation. The town clock sounded the hour with ten ringing bells.