Visions of the Unusual

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The dragon is dead. They say we won, but it, like the rest of us, never stays that way.

We were warned to be careful as we went in. There were still marauderers around. In the deep cold the two of us made our way carefully through the heavy snow under those short, fat, dark trees, only flinching silently, occasionally, as one of the thick sharp leaves brushed our face and arms. The points left a toxin in the skin that burns for hours.

We neared the ruin of the building, it had the appearance of a huge old monastery built a millennia ago of carved blocks of stone. The stench was horrific, burning bodies and burning dragon. It was still crackling under its own corrosive juices. Just as we pushed through the last of the bushes they pulled us out - skyward at the speed of sound. I hovered over the site. The building used to be covered in a veil of soft green ivy, now it was covered in dragon carcass, caved in on itself, unredeemable. To one side was an arch of metal. It looked as if it had always stood the way it was, upended, open to the sky. It's metal arms were carved with archaic symbols, a language I could almost understand. The right bar was now twisted to the left and broken off in a sharp point. The broken piece rested uneasily at its base. Unredeemable.

In the distance, to the right and the left, the small settlements and hamlets were piles of smouldering ashes. Nothing moved among those dark, twisted trees.

I know this is only a representation of the war we are fighting. The trees show the corruption of the ground, the fallen soldiers the corruption of humanity. I grieve - and then I am home again.

Today I am tired. I could not sleep last night. I knew Spirit kept me awake to keep me out of the action. The vision, right on waking, showed me the outcome. I rang my daughter. She had been beside me under the trees. She had dreamed of spiders. She hates spiders.

Tom was with his troupe again. They were in the desert waiting for something, looking at the sky with a feeling of dread. He does not know what they were waiting for. Perhaps it was the dragon.
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The Great Invocation

The Great Invocation

From the point of Light within the Mind of God
Let light stream forth into the minds of men
Let Light descend on Earth.

From the point of Love within the Heart of God
Let love stream forth into the hearts of men
May Christ return to Earth.

From the centre where the Will of God is known
Let purpose guide the little wills of men
The purpose which the Masters know and serve.

From the centre which we call the race of men
Let the Plan of Love and Light work out
And may it seal the door where evil dwells.

Let Light and Love and Power restore the Plan on Earth.

Channelled by Alice A Bailey