Chapter 4 · Love and Relationship as Alchemy

I Take Flight

Cristina do Valle Mirrors of the Infinite

I take flight… the body slips from ground, angels rise without a sound, their wings like whispers, folding tight, an armor of gold around my chest, sighing, she remembered rest, she dreamed awake inside the night. The lava tunnels blaze within, molten light that floods the rim of sunset’s gate, a crimson psalm, a fevered hymn disguised as calm. Beside me, dragon’s breath unspools, a thread of fire that breaks the rules, his eyes, two galaxies wound in flame, ignite in mine and call my name. The fog dissolves in silver rain, dew prisms hum an ancient strain. Leaves of stone and leaves of song chant what has been lost too long. Rainbows swell, then fold, then fade, their spectrum drowned in light they made. The island chants with thundered bones, her glyphs inscribed in undertones. She presses signs into my skin, a farewell written deep within. But sky bends sudden, torn apart, a corridor of mirrored art, where wings are etched with unborn stars, and oceans wait in crystal jars. The angels rise, not out but through, a door of dusk, a door of blue. The dragon laughs, a burning tide, auroras spill from where he hides. “You thought departure meant release, but flight returns you back to peace.” And cliffs dissolve in cosmic seas, rainbows fracture into keys. The island, far, is yet not gone, she is the pulse that carries on, harmless, whole, forever true, a refuge scattered into view.

Reflection

I wrote this poem as the plane left Kauai, and it felt less like leaving a place and more like being blessed by a living being. The island itself seemed to rise up in spirit, wrapping me in its protection. I could feel the deities and elemental guardians offering me gifts; golden armor of light, feathered and jeweled. It wasn’t symbolic; it was tactile. I could feel its weight, its warmth.

The dragon in this piece is my beloved, but also more than that; his spirit takes on this form, ancient and protective. Sitting beside him, I felt like I was journeying not just through air but through realms. The vision reminded me that love itself is a form of protection, a kind of magic armor.

The distortion that softened during this flight was my lingering belief in separateness. In that moment, I wasn’t a passenger leaving a beautiful island; I was part of Kauai’s spirit. Its waterfalls, cliffs, rainbows, and storms lived in me, and I carried them forward. The island wasn’t a place to be left behind but a presence that moved with me.

Acacia’s teachings often dissolve boundaries, but here it was Kauai herself, a teacher as alive as any plant spirit, showing me how sacred land recognizes those who honor it. The experience was less about travel and more about ceremony: I was being sent forward blessed, armored, and remembered.

This poem is a prayer of gratitude to that island, to the dragon beside me, and to the invisible beings who guide every departure and return.

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