encounters with the mystic man

| “Often it isn’t the initiating trauma that creates seemingly insurmountable pain, but the lack of support after “.I tends into reflections of a mental imagery that reveals itself to me every now and then; maybe its trance or maybe it exists in real life. This is an image of an old being, which has a lot of unnatural things about his self and his disposition. I can see him standing right in front of my eyes. He looks enigmatic and mysterious; raising my suspicion but wanting me to know him better , at the same time.

He has an unusual way of adorning his head; he chooses the rainbow plumage from bird’s exotic, clearly distinguishing himself from the commonality of his people. Silvery grey strands of hair, which declare his age, fall down from his whittled shoulders and rest on his bosoms’. His forehead is big and wide, a trait of a man of great wisdom.

His eyes are dark, small and evenly spaced apart, sitting below trim eyebrows. They maybe old but they have no hint of the blue that old age brings along; they have lived a past, experienced the present and they have a vision of the future.

He has a wrinkled face with his cheeks sucked in; kissed by the sun, his skin withered and aged; its color having become a dark bronze glaze. His nose is pointed and adorned with a peculiar silver ring; it looks much like a serpent biting its own tail. It is strange for a man to adorn his nose for that is an attribute of a woman’s embellishments. He has lips that have grown thin with age , but they always remain in set smile ; pretty much a Mona – Lisa smile , leaving me with a feeling that he’s known me for a while.

He has neither a slender long neck nor a thick one, but a neck which is a balance between the two and behind the colorful beads that he wears on this neck, there remains imprinted an occult sign on the right side. A tattoo I will call it, a wolf and a crow on opposite sides; just like two faces to the same coin. The crow is the keeper of knowledge and the wolf symbolizes a medicine man.

To decorate his chest he chooses to wear the skulls of different animals. He looks formidable, sometimes making me feel he’s either a Satan worshipper or a harbinger of death.

He carries a medicine bag with a leather thong, on which are threaded two pieces of a common herb and some other leaves; some induce trance, other’s simply cure. It also contains some feathers and stones that are spiritually significant. Somewhere inside this bag , hidden beneath his strange treasures lies a big white conch ; its end crested with purest of silver and embellished with a sacred mantra. They say “ the sounds that emanate from his shell connect with the beings from another realm

He’s eccentric, for he’s gifted – a seer, a fortune teller. He connects with the spirit world and is a dream catcher. He is a medicine man and a healer; he is a shaman.

There’s certainly something he knows about me for he has chosen to visit me either in my dreams or in my waking life. He maybe just an illustration of and imaginative mind but he always leaves me in the shackles of his enigma.

And as this image begins to fade away, I his hear his voice distant but clear , he blesses me and promises me all the wisdom that I have ever looked for and with that he slowly slipped away ; leaving behind the memories of my magical encounters with a mystic man.