Journey to the Temple

We began in the green lush of Portland, then headed east and south. Every mile, it got a little drier. Every hundred miles, it got a little warmer. We went through Doug Fir, past the Lodge Pole Pines of central Oregon, to the scrub south of Burns. I opened to the ever enlarging skies. Everytime we would pass a little grove of trees, Siri would get a bit wistful. But, pedal to the metal, I pushed us on all the way to the desert of the Temple of Goddess Spirituality Dedicated to Sekhmet. North of lovely Las Vegas, south of the Nevada Test Site — a curious bookend of sin and self-destruction. But we are betwixt and between, in the arms of Sekhmet.
Yesterday when we arrived we went up to the Temple straightaway. Walking along the path, I picked up dried twigs for a small fire. It didn’t take much to move me firmly back to this place. I began to sing to the twigs and dried roots, grateful that they would make a quick and lovely fire.
I brought Frankinsence candles as an offering. But I had forgotten the lavender I set out to bring. Well, that just got added to the list of the many things I forgot. But, I remembered the candles. I set the little fire, and it lit so easily while the wind picked up. The chants poured from my mouth, winding with the wind whirling around the temple. The flames lept and crouched, and I sang.
Sitting looking into Her eyes, I melted into the stone floor. Melding, becoming one with this sacred place. Feeling Her presence, Her fire, Her light, Her dark gleaming. The wind spiraled around me, the flames reached towards me, and suddenly drops of rain pelted in, carried by the wind. I was cleansed, blessed, and filled to the brim.