A Shower of Crystals
Nothing is more healing and empowering than laughter. Always, whenever in Merlin’s presence, laughter erupted from deep within my very soul. This next dream marvellously captures the essence of the bond that we shared and how laughter was an energetic bond that we readily indulged and transferred.
The dream occurred, on Tuesday, October 26, 1993, whilst the Moon transited both Pisces and my tenth house. The dream occurred during the B or second sleep cycle that day.
Some three hours after going to sleep, it was the first dream recalled on awakening. Incidentally, I almost never sleep more than four hours each sleep cycle.
I was standing on the premises of the Boys’ School in The Alley, Sandy Point, St. Kitts. A car came down and stopped when out came Isabella da Braga who proceeded to lock it up. On looking like quite the eccentric loon, she carped on about being there to do some business – not that I had asked or cared. In any event, keenly aware that the persons all around were suspiciously eyeballing me, I went and opened the door. They seemed to have known who I was but they were not, any of them, vaguely familiar. There was a definite tension in the air which was exacerbated by the fact that the place was caught up in the midst of a heated, election campaign.
Isabella had pulled up in a white car that was fairly stylish-looking. Using my keys, I opened up the old school house that was closer to the road. When going up to the second storey landing, I opened up the windows on the landing that faced due south. Afterwards, I asked Isabella to wait a while for me to return to the store and get something. I told her that I needed some sort of candy or fruit to eat. En route there, to the west of the road, I passed the first house that was past the school and right next-door to the school. This, of course, whilst heading southwards in the direction of Cleverly Hill, Sandy Point, St. Kitts.
Long abandoned, in the waking state, the old stone building was now turned into a gorgeous workspace for a furniture maker. On display were several of the beautiful, small round tables that he produced. They could comfortably seat up to four persons but no more. Since most West Indian dining rooms are not especially large, this made perfect sense. Much of the furniture was painted a light blue. He was a local, light-complected man who was not White though of mixed blood from centuries earlier. It was clear that his White part of the family had been on the island for at least two centuries. The place was quite crowded with some chairs stacked whilst tables and chairs hung from the ceiling.
A busy, accomplished artisan he was. Some round tables, stacked high, had just their central pole and no tops as yet. All of them had their central leg splayed out into four radial bases that were stylishly detailed. It was very impressive workmanship here. After having taken a while to drink in the sweet bouquet of this artist’s creative expression, I then moved on. Eventually, I came on a building which I entered.
On the inside was a large display area with tons of antiques. Lots of things here were from colonial times. Beautiful lithographs were everywhere harkening back to another age. Over in one corner, there was a group of lithographs exclusively depicting cats. Others were of several species of dogs. Still, others were of various clocks with some merely being detailed portions of clocks. All in all, a unique, intriguing discovery this place was. Every one of these antiques was distinctly West Indian in vibration. A group of lithographs depicted White women, from families during colonial times, living in the Caribbean. All these women were very strong-featured persons.
They seemed as if early photographs that were sepia-toned rather than black and white. When pouring through them, were I to have decorated someone’s house, I thought that some of them could be used to give a sense of history to the space. They seemed as if early photographs that were sepia-toned rather than black and white. When pouring through them, were I to have decorated someone’s house, I thought that some of them could be used to give a sense of history to the space. The dogs were very European-looking. Obviously, they had been brought out to the colonies centuries earlier. However, having long ago become mongrelised, it was clear that precious few of these stocks now existed.
There were black and white dogs that looked like Rottweilers. These were dogs which were all very common to the British Isles and the long tradition there of canine culture. A most strange though pleasant dream experience this was.
I had taken my leave of the place when a gaggle of loud, aggressive, big-boned Whites, with dangerously unhealthy, dark tans, showed up in the store. They proceeded to noisily pick through the store’s contents. They were truly as if a herd of elephants in a China shop. Excusing myself from a couple of women, they were both objectionable, I said that I had been looking for prints of cats and since these were of dogs that I would have to go look elsewhere. With that, I promptly took my leave of the shop. Going into another of the rooms of this complex, left me in a truly spectacular, large, cavernous room. It had all these wonderful strings hanging down with rock crystals attached to them. There were also glass-beaded orbs hanging on strings and all of them were transparent and magically reflected the room’s soft light.
On the way into this cavernous room, there was a tiny room off to the right which I opted not to take. Still there was another room filled with Blacks who were, for the most part, Rastafarians. There were some among them who were distinctively continental Africans; these men made wares which they sold here in the bazaar-like space. Chiefly goldsmiths, they were expert jewellers whose workmanship was very detailed and of the finest quality… very nice indeed. In the other room were some of the most incredible, vibrationally magnetic crystals. Here there was a great deal of energy work taking place.
Here, too, the place was much too filled with greedy North American Whites; they were racially predatory in behaviour, surveilling my every move, as though I were about to steal something of theirs. Immediately, I turned around taking my leave of the space; I simply couldn’t abide this sort of senseless bullshit. A truly cavernous room it was and with lots of blue in the ceiling. Coming back from the room, I passed the room in which the Black artisans were displaying their wares. This time, I warmly greeted them which they absorbed and gratefully repaid in kind. Then I ventured into another room where I found a little woman.
Too, there were two very dark-skinned, Black men present in the room. Everything was here kept in heavy-looking, black velvet. There they made a great deal of jewellery; it seemed to be made of pewter: bracelets, chokers, necklaces, et cetera. In addition, they worked with that sublimely beautiful, blue-green gemstone, turquoise. Lots of long, cylindrical, turquoise earrings were on display. Everything here was exceptionally blue. At one point, I was looking at the crystals that the Black men sold in the store which was adjacent to the large display space. There was a stout White woman working there, she was the salesclerk, whilst both Black men worked in the atelier in back producing the goods to be sold.
It was hard to tell, whether she did the designs or, if they were the artisans responsible for executing her creative ideas. The guys sold a great array of crystals. One, in particular, really caught my eye. It was exceptionally beautiful. It was on sale for in excess of 100$. Another which I had been keenly studying and thought would go for around 40$, however, it was going for 90$. They were all set out in beautiful, black velvet pouches with their points piercing up and out from the folds of the fabric. They were sensibly kept out of reach of the public being able to walk past and stealthily grab a few. The energies which these crystals gave off were simply awesome. This left me feeling completely energised.
I was zinging with a life force whose vibration was simply sparkling. I felt greatly elevated to have experienced their potency. I then returned to where Isabella had been, thinking that it was all rather sad, because there seemed no real reason for Isabella to have been there. I then returned to the place again, this time, who should be there but Merlin? Laughing aloud for joy, I said, “Oh god, Merlin! Good to see you!” We greeted each other clasping both hands and shaking rather energetically. He was very pleased to see me as his eyes beamed whilst they directly looked into me. I could feel his very soul, even.
Both our hands soon became clasped as we stood there longingly looking into each other. There was so much energy being bled between us. “You know why she’s here?” Merlin asked whilst looking at Isabella, “…It’s because she’s afraid of ‘de jumbie an dem’…”
*Jumbie is patois for ghost. END.
I couldn’t believe that Merlin had just spoken in a perfectly authentic, Nevisian accent. Squeezing his hands, I threw my head back and riotously howled for joy. It was so very good to see Merlin. My goodness, this encounter was so lucid and real. I could feel his muscles really tensing, as we clasped hands, engaging in some conscious energy transference. He was quite funny, clever, witty and playful. What a blast it was to have seen him. Isabella had laughed of embarrassment knowing that he was right.
He was pointing out that the only reason why she had come down from Nevis, to Sandy Point, St. Kitts, was the fact that she was bored stiff being over in Nevis. Said he, she did not want to be living alone where all she ever did was perpetually talk to herself. She also felt that the house that she was living in, over in Nevis, was haunted. Merlin, however, pointed out that it was not so much that the house was haunted as that Isabella was simply afraid that she was going to become haunted by her own demons – as per her talking to herself.
Merlin here was giving Isabella a psychological overview of where she was at. There was nothing in the least mean-spirited about any of this. Isabella was being very self-deprecating, sublimating, if only because she was quite lucidly aware that this was Merlin and a very valid, astral plane encounter with him. These two had always gotten along rather well. Their relationship was bested only by that of Merlin and Pandora’s – with regards to my siblings’ relations with Merlin.
This was a very wonderful experience. I rather liked seeing her and being with Merlin. Merlin then went and sat to my far right with her to my immediate right. Grounding myself, by being energetically harmonised with his very soul, I looked across at and into Merlin. There was another guy about who was Black whom I did not recognise. He seemed to have been familiar with Merlin. Perhaps, he is a trusted old companion – from multiple past life connections – who is currently also on the astral plane between lives.
I don’t think that it was Mel Frazier, Merlin’s teacher friend and ex-lover, who passed of AIDS out in Vancouver in December 1986. That aside, it was so very good to have seen Merlin – to have touched his very soul, yet again.
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Isabella da Braga, my darling sister, recently passed. String band music was her favourite music. She was passionate about her music. There will be string band music at her funeral. Sweet and blissful dreams my darling Isabella. She enjoyed a great relationship with Merlin and they always visited in our back garden as she was never comfortable around cats and we had at one point four cats. Nice to know that they can hang out again.
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Two rats during the course of eighteen months produce one million offspring. You’ve long transcended being a cultural infestation; you are a fucking plague and Karma, that most vicious of cunts, will yet dispense with you!
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©2013-2026 Arvin da Brgha. All Rights Reserved.
Dreams are the poetic expression of the soul. 