Zephyrelle's Zenith: My Personal Myth

Once upon a time, Zephyrelle, an angel of the stars, swept along her path to her “moonlight”...to her final ascension. Through rolling clouds and heavenly hues, she flew towards a distant light. “Surely, after so many missions, it is my time to transform,” Zepherelle thought. As she neared the shimmering promise of her final destination, the path wavered and disappeared. All became gray and cloudy.

Zephyrelle soon found herself engulfed in a large system of storm clouds that disoriented her. Her thoughts were now a jumble of uncertainty and disbelief because this was a first. She had not received a new mission to return to Earth, which was initiated with strict protocol from the highest choirs of angels. She had nowhere to go but up, so she figured final ascension was next. Yet Zepherelle was now trapped in a web of lightening. Frozen in fear. Not knowing where she was meant to be. The storm intensified with a clash of thunder and lightening that severed Zephyrelle from her wings. While she fell into unknown oblivion, she watched her feathers scatter in the wind.

            When Zephyrelle came to consciousness, she felt the grit of sand and stone forming the indent  of her body. The sensation was familiar and the scene before her conformed her location. A pebble beach of an inlet shore. Clear ripples rolling in with the tides. The glint of the sun dancing on the waves farther out. A large mountain erected in the distance. No one around. Zephyrelle arose, steadied herself on her feet, and began to walk. From past escapades on Earth, she knew she had to keep her cool and started looking for a clue. Scanning the ground, Zephyrelle found a knife nestled in the seashells discarded by the sea. “This should be useful,” she thought and continued walking until she came upon a red heap of coral? Seaweed? Bobbing in the shallow surf. Upon closer inspection, it was a large red fish...dying. It quietly gasped, “Open.” Zephyrell followed her instinct to slice the scaly flesh and out poured...gems...a handful of gems? They hummed with power. Without hesitation, Zephyrell, waded into the water while she swallowed the gems one by one. She transformed into a purple fish when the ocean touched her lips. Zephyrell felt welcomed. Free to roam the waters, Zephyrelle traveled the world taking in the sights of the sea. Playing with pods of dolphins and whales, getting lost in the schools of colorful fish, hanging with the herds of seahorses.

For a time she was content until she “flew” with a fever of stingrays and remembered her once prized pair of wings. Zephyrelle became listless and weary of being a fish. She found a quiet cove where she contemplated what was next. Through the surface of the water she noticed the branches of a tree. She admired the height they appeared to reach. “Maybe I would feel closer to home if I were a tree?” she pondered. Deciding this to be true, Zephyrelle remembered the gems and coughed them out one by one. The gems fell for some other seeker to find. When empty, Zephyrelle dissolved into the water.

            Now a drop in the water, Zephyrelle began the journey of being soaked up into the nearby bank of soil that supplied the tree’s roots with sustenance. Slowly, Zephyrelle was sucked into the roots until she was running the rings of the tree’s sturdy trunk and into the reaches of the branches. When the time came she sprouted into a leaf with a fantastic view. A tall mountain in the distance. The sunrise and sunset. The phases of the moon. In the spring, the tree bloomed flowers.

In the summer, the tree bore fruit. In the Autumn, Zephyrelle marveled at the rainbow of colors she turned. By the winter time, she was one of the last leaves hanging on. One snowy day, Zephyrelle watched a troop of travelers approach the tree. Soon the world as Zephyrelle had seen it, shifted with the swing of an ax. The blow shook Zephyrelle from her branch and she fell along with the tree. The travelers prepared the trunk and gathered leaves for fire kindling.

            Zephyrelle had grown to like the life of a leaf, but could see the travelers need for this sacrifice. The fire took quickly. Zephyrelle fanned into a dancing flame. This was new and quite thrilling. She danced around the food they cooked. She danced to the songs they sang. She kept on dancing so they could survive the cold night. By morning, it was time for them to move on. The fire, Zephyrelle, was but a smolder disappearing into a wisp of smoke.

            What was she now? An idea. Floating free with no form. Maybe she could float back home, but she had no wings to direct her wish. She drifted with the wind of the wilderness. Who knows how much time passed until the winds brought Zephyrelle to the outskirts of a village in the valley of the mountain. Maybe someone would accept and acknowledge her as a welcomed thought.

She hoped she could help a human fulfill their purpose like she had done on missions before. She observed the villagers, young and old, and only one pulled Zephyrelle out of the thin air. A young girl who would become a healer. Zephyrelle learned to assist the healer with igniting thought, flowing feelings, and growing ideas. The healer developed her abilities, especially the use of song to cure broken hearts and weary minds. The village planned a celebration in her honor for her dedication to the well being of the village.

At the ceremony, the healer was gifted many forms of gratitude including a ritual dance by the village warriors and leaders. Decked in feathers, the dancers moved to the rhythm of the drums and the melody of the flutes. It was primal and ethereal. It was powerful, yet gentle. Zephyrelle sensed the peaceful balance the healer, the dancers, and villagers valued.

At the end of the dance, a wise woman elder approached the healer and beckoned her with a wave to follow. The elder was unfamiliar to the healer who questioned “Who are you?” Zephyrelle knew the wise woman would not speak to the healer...the answer she whispered was meant for her. “Mother Mountain” Zephyrelle had forgotten about the mountain that her journey had seem to lead to...had forgotten about her homesickness...had forgotten about how she yearned for her wings.

Zephyrelle couldn’t let her dreams be forgotten. So she revealed herself to the healer, which only strengthened their bond in trust and love. The healer had felt a part within herself that was not quite at home. The healer followed the wise woman to a path that would lead to the base of the great mountain. With a wave the elder disappeared

            Zephyrelle and the healer found allies along the path. First a large brown bear that offered protection. Then a wolf that offered wisdom. Finally, an exotic bird that offered reassurance. When the group reached the base of the mountain, they noticed that the path did not continue up the side.  Zephyrelle knew the journey ended for the healer, but she was to somehow get to the peak.

Suddenly, the three animals transformed into the wise elder woman. She smiled and silently directed the healer to turn around. Zephyrelle buzzed with joy as she watched the elder place a pair of large wings made of hawk feathers onto the shoulders of the healer. It was some type of contraption with a harness. They weren’t her wings, but Zephyrelle felt like it was the closest she would ever get to what she once knew. The healer buckled the straps and secured the wings.

Effortlessly, when the wings expanded with a pull of a cord, Zephyrelle’s soul flew out of the healer’s body. The healer witnessed Zephyrelle materialize into being...fully formed...with her own wings. Zephyrelle was elated her wings had returned, however, they were now different colors...rainbow. Angel wings were known to change colors with achievement of different missions yet Zephyrelle knew nothing of what rainbow wings symbolized. Regardless, she expressed her gratitude to the healer and the elder. Then off she soared to the mountain peak where she planned to create a home as close as she could to the heavens while remaining as a guardian to the valley below.

Zephyrelle provided protection, wisdom, and assurance to all who prayed for such things. She sang to the sun, moon, and stars...never forgetting her celestial home. Eventually, Zephyrelle became quite lonely on her mountain. Yes she had a purpose, a place where others accepted her...yet she still felt like a visitor. She missed the angel choirs. Who knows if one existed for rainbow winged angels…Zephyrelle lost her train of thought when she sensed a change in the air. A change she was prepared for this time.

            The storm was fierce. The winds whipped. The earth quaked. The rains poured. The fire blazed from lightening striking the dense woods of valley. Zephyrelle stared down the chaos below and howled beckoning the lightening to come strike her...fearless...prepared for the worst. It refused to do so.

Zephyrelle knew it didn’t end like this, so she swiftly dived into the fray with eyes closed in surrender. She was aware of the gusting wind, the pounding rain, swirling smoke as she fell into the open mouth of the earth…and landed feet first on the stone ground of a deep cavern. A silent, serene tomb within the belly of the mountain.

A man in long robes stood before her. His face was stoic as he motioned to the well of water to the left and the cauldron of fire to the right. A grand wooden door was a backdrop to the statuesque form of the man who stated,“I have been waiting for you...what you seek is behind this door.” After a pause, he resumed, “But first, bathe in the healing waters and warm yourself with the sacred flame.”

Zephyrelle did not hesitate to take refuge in the offering of healing and sanctity. While this ritual was completed, colorful swirls of color and symbols emerged on the gray stone walls of the cavern. The image of a key became prominent to the point of materializing right into the palm of Zephyrelle’s hand as she sat by the fire. Time to open the door. To Zephyrelle’s surprise, piles of crystals and troves of precious metals filled the chamber. “Am I worthy of such things? What on earth am I to do with all of this?” she wondered to her self. The man simply replied, “It’s your responsibility now” and vanished.

            Zephyrelle was unsure of what to do...she figured she must take these treasures home...but where was home? Could she create her own? And with that thought came a spear of lightening striking Zephyrelle at the core. A catalyst for what was to come. All combusted and transformed. Gems into stars dust forming a brilliant sun...metal and stone into a castle...and Zephyrelle into ash from which she arose as a phoenix. Forever to live in her truth and sing her song wherever her heart was called.