The Boy in the Smoke

Most mornings, I sit meditating at my altar under the watchful eyes of Ganesh, Buddha, Athena, the Venus of Willendorf, three skulls of two raptors, one corvid, and an obsidian Raven with yellow eyes. Today, my space is scented by a slow-burning, earthy incense stick. I generally wait until one stick is consumed by the subtle flame before lighting a second of a different ilk to prevent intercourse between the two scents. I changed my paradigm this morning. Rather than waiting to ignite a second stick, I put match to tip, watched it flare briefly before settling into the slow burn, releasing another aromatic fragrance from the slew of scents awaiting their turn. To my surprise, the two smoke streams coordinated, interweaving with each other in a corkscrew spiral until the two became one.