Tuesday, May 25, 2010
>There is another kind of quiet that touches my thoughts...so different , so compelling. I'm walking the woodland path. Tonight it is so different. The Moon rides high above . There's a warmth, a softness >Ahead of me , she stands waiting .Her face, bathed in moonlight, is radiant with a smile . Her extended hand waits to claim my own . " Come ", She whispers, as we head upwards along the familiar path . No word is spoken . She begins to sing ...her voice so soothing , seems to expand and embrace me , the woodland , and the Moon . Her words though unknown to me seem to penetrate and quicken every fibre of my being , and form flashes of images before my eyes .She sings of long ago, and an infant in her arms ...A girl . I look into the eyes of the infant and i see a lone campfire. I see a solitary person dancing to the beat of unseen drums . It's the infant, now a young woman . In her hand she holds what appears to be some kind of Dust which she tosses into the fire. The flames leap upward in an explosion of many colors . Now, The young woman's dancing slows, and she is older . She seems to sway as the Drumbeat slows . She stops and turns her gaze ..Toward me . Our eyes meet...The old one takes my hand and whispers ," The Drums Are Your Mother ". The fires are your Father. The two .. Are one . You are both .The sister that walks with you understands ..She is mine ..Of my flesh and Bone ..Much more than my blood courses through her . With-in her she bears the Sacred Light of the Ancient Ones . >The vision fades. I am standing alone on the path.The first light of dawn appears . The tears move freely down my face .