The Black Madonna and The White Car

Sagittarius Horoscopes
(Nov 22 - Dec 21)
Next Week
For the Week of Sep 21st, 2009 -- You may be held accountable for every word you say this weekend, which can put a crimp into your social game. Yet being more circumspect demonstrates your maturity and commitment to maintaining harmony. Since one careless comment can put a chill in the air, think twice before openly expressing what's on your mind.

Hmm, this may make our Pictionary Tournament a bit more challenging next weekend. Yes, it's game night and the sky's the limit. Due to a previous dance injury, Twister is out for active participation, but I will be happy to referee. Oh, but wait. I may put a chill in the air by expressing my opinion. Maybe I'll just hone my Pictionary skills by doodling on napkins while my compadres twist the night away. That will demonstrate some level of maturity I should think. This may put a crimp in my social game.

Sometimes I take myself too seriously. It happened again yesterday. We were going to visit the shrine of the Black Madonna of Poland, Our Lady of Czestochowa, in scenic Doylestown, Pennsylvania. It's about a two and a half hour drive from Queens. Helen was doing the driving, for as my friends and family know, driving is not my thing. Yes, I have a car. It's a 1988 Dodge Shadow with under 35,000 miles on it. 'Nuff said. Usually I'm ok rolling along the highway, but yesterday I had this feeling before we left that there would be an accident with a serious injury.

Not us, but somehow we might need to pull over and assist in some way. The thought passed through my mind and left. We had a quiet uneventful drive, in fact we made good time. The weather was custom made for strolling. The sun was warm, the air was cool with a sky that was pristine blue. The tiny red chapel looked like something from a fairy tale with a small ebony spire reaching for that cloudless sky. As we opened the door, darkness enveloped us until our eyes adjusted to the prismed light from the stained glass windows. Our Lady gazed at us from her portrait, surrounded by sweet roses, pink orchids and rainbow shades of chrysanthemums. No one else was visiting at that moment. There is a certain energy at sacred sites that attracts the human soul. The religion or denomination is irrelevant. This is an ancient universal source that channels itself through different venues be that magnetic fields, sacred wells and waters, stone formations or even timeless groves of trees. That's the energy we could feel in the womb like semidarkness of that chapel. It was nurturing and invigorating simultaneously. It is a blessing in the true sense of the word. As we left the soft light and opened the door to the radiant sunshine we gazed upon acres of tombstones, mementos of lives lived. It certainly put things in perspective.

On our way home we experienced the joy of maneuvering through the Lincoln Tunnel and downtown Manhattan by car on a Saturday night. Did I mention the San Genaro festival? Oh, for a cannoli. That took just about as long as the drive from Pennsylvania. While crawling through the tunnel I had that image of an accident float into my brain. In fact, it dallied there while we were having lunch, but I just ignored it. I never mentioned it. From past experience I have found if these events do transpire people tend to hold the seer accountable in some way. If it's just an anxiety thing, whatever. Now, Helen is not one who would hold me accountable. On the contrary, she might be slightly alarmed. My point is, what's the difference if I show or tell? Fuggetaboutit...

At last we were on the final leg of the return, even exceeding 30MPH on the parkway when, you guessed it, traffic slowed and we were merging left.

I heard Helen say 'This must have just happened, there's glass all over the road."

As we inched by I looked to my right. A young guy in a baseball cap was frantically running from the scene, his expression anguished. He ran toward a group of people who had stopped to help.

On the side of the road a white car was completely overturned, four whees in the air, it's top accordioned into the elevated chassis. I saw no one lying next to the vehicle. The ambulances had not arrived. We inched along a few more feet and traffic started to move. We picked up speed. I was home in no time at all. Helen drove into the night with one last wave.

When I got into my apartment I couldn't shake a sadness. Accidents happen all the time. I live at a very accident-prone intersection. Squealing breaks, screeching tires and the stomach wrenching crunching impacts are no strangers to me. I've called many a 911. For some reason that poor kid running for help and the soul or souls in that white car got to me. My brain understands this might have nothing to do with those annoying flashes of images but my heart mourns for all at that tragic site.

Yes, I had a glass of wine or two while I pondered my reaction. It was then I concluded I was taking myself too seriously. In the light of a new day I still concur. It feels good to agree with myself. I've had these dreams and impressions as long as I can remember. Some other members of my family do too. I'll bet you have similar experiences once in a blue moon. I think it's natural. I doubt I'll ever know what to do about it. I leave that to the Black Madonna, Isis, Kali and the pantheon of deities who make up our universe. It's in good hands