My lady, when King Arthur was mortally wounded in that final battle, they took him to the mysterious isle of Avalon, to the witch, Morgan le Fay, to be healed...
My lady, when King Arthur was mortally wounded in that final
battle, they took him to the mysterious isle of Avalon, to the witch, Morgan le
Fay, to be healed...
And it was that place that called to me now... And its call was more powerful for my having visited Camelot... For my soul, and whatever had captured it, were now in control... And they drew me to Avalon...
Not far did I travel... To the north... In the distance, I saw another hill rising up above the flat country... Taller than the hill of Camelot... It commanded the horizon because of its sharp contour... Until a few years ago, this place was marsh and wetlands, and it was surrounded by an eerie myst...
I
climbed to the top of that hill, my lady... To the old abbey that lay in ruins
at the top... To the site of the ancient Celtic rituals... And I sat there, on
the top of that hill, to do as I had done at Camelot... To feel the magic and to
understand, in some small way what had been that place...
But this was not Camelot, my lady... It was not the same... No trees covered the side of this hill... And the warmth of the sun was blown away by the cold, cold wind... I looked for birds and listened for their song, but they were not there... At last I saw them flying far below... But they had no business at the top of Avalon... The hillside was covered with grass and bracken fern, which gave it an eerie look and color... Not rich and green, as Camelot, but blue-green and gray... A color born out of the myst...
As I sat there and tried to feel the magic, at last it came to me... From deep inside of Avalon, I felt its magic reach up to me... A powerful magic... And very, very old... Not a good magic or a bad magic, my lady... But it was a cold magic... And its roots reached very far from the base of Avalon into the surrounding countryside...
I
sat and wondered on the ancient Celtic rites performed here so many centuries
before the ruined abbey was built... And I wondered on the witches whose healing
magic was sought by the fallen Arthur, and why they chose this place... I
wondered too what had happened to Arthur when he was brought here... And I found
myself called again... I resisted the call for a time, for my fascination with
this place was great... But at last, I could hold back no longer, and I let the
magic lead me down the hill... I knew better than to resist, for the magic had
not finished with me...
At
the base of Avalon I found a place they call the Chalice Well... According to
legend, Joseph of Arimathea, when he came to England, founded the first church
here at the foot of Avalon... It was Joseph who brought the Holy Grail to
England... And legend says he hid the chalice in the well that draws its water
from the great underground stream that flows from Avalon... The Knights of the
Round Table searched throughout the land for the Holy Grail... Did they search
the Chalice Well? I entered that sacred place and I drank from that holy well...
And I rested for a time in the quiet gardens there... And I found other Seekers
who shared my sense of wonder... And we looked at each other, knowing our common
bond, and yet none of us spoke... We each knew it was not right to pierce the
quiet of this place...
At
the very base of Avalon, I found the ruined Abbey of Glastonbury... This was the
place that called me now... I entered this ruined abbey, not knowing what to
expect... I found there a wondrous place, filled with majestic ruins proclaiming
an ancient glory... But more than that, my lady, in the midst of those ruins, I
found a grave yard that had held the bodies of ancient kings and saints and
powerful people from centuries past... It was there that the monks of
Glastonbury Abbey found two bodies in the year 1191... They found a single grave
that bore these words: "Here lies entombed the renowned King Arthur with
Guinevere his second wife in the Isle of Avalon"... The monks removed the
bodies and placed them in a special place in the Abbey... Where they stood for
almost 300 years until Henry VIII's destruction of the Abbey caused the bodies
to be lost for all time...
And I stood for a long time in that place... And I thought on all these two people had given us... Ideals of chivalry and nobility and honor... The sweet sorrow of their troubled love... And I thought on how much richer our lives were because of them... And I paid my respects... And I shed my tears... And finally, the magic let me go...
<smile>
Yes, my lady... It truly was an experience to remember...
Then you must go there too, my lady... For if it calls to you as it did to me, then the only way to exorcise this call is to visit this place... And allow the magic to enter you, as it did me... Only then, when it has claimed its place in your heart, will it ever truly let you go...
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