A gift of names

A spirit journey tonight, after a very full week.  No particular goal in mind, it just felt right to take one.

The Harvest Moon was out, glowing silver.  As I walked through the woods, I worked on opening my heart.  Gradually the woods lightened and I could see green leaves on the trees around; not full light, but it was steady.  I think I am making progress.

In the clearing, the sun was shining.  I walked up to the Oak, and embraced it, thanking it for the strength and help it has given me.  Spider and Swallow appeared also, and I thanked them each for the special help and gifts they have been giving me recently.  My wife struck her head recently and after returning from the hospital I was trying Reiki on it.  I asked Spider to help knit the flesh together again and to help it heal cleanly, and I felt a definite response; I know Athena felt it too because she immediately said "Ow!" :)

Oak said that he was glad to give me his strength; he then leaned down and placed a nut in my hands.  It looked delicious and I ate it.  Then I asked what it was, and Oak said that is was strength for me to have when I needed it.

I walked over to the stream, running swift and clear.  The water tasted cold and wonderful, and I also laved my face and head with it.  It was so refreshing! 

Then I turned to my guides and asked them if there was anything they could tell me.  Spider spoke, saying that I should look around me and see where the threads of my life were, that I needed to stay aware of who and what I had included in my web and to keep them in my heart to stay in balance.  I looked around and there were many heart-threads from me to Athena, my son, my daughter, and others in my life.  It was all part of a large web that was beautiful and elaborate, that we all spun together by caring and reaching to each other.  Spider told me to keep aware of this, and know that I needed to be a dependable anchor for my threads, and that I could also get support and comfort from these threads; that we are all balanced in a web of love, helping each other.

As I looked at the threads that lead to my son and daughter, my guides said that it was time I gave (or learned?) their names.   They appeared to me as subtle concepts, and with a little work and help I determined that they should have this form:
My daughter is Aurora Lucidus Animi, Dawn of the Heart of Fire.
My son is Cercatore Filodoro, Seeker of the Thread of Gold.

(BTW, Spider promised to bind these names in safety and Oak to secure them within his arms, so that they cannot be used for their harm.)

After thanking them all, I left the clearing, returned to the sea, and awoke.

On the Quest of the Fabled Jewels of Slo-Na-Impah

Many seek to find the city of Slo-Na-Impah, of which many tales are told, and plunder the great caverns of their living jewels.  Those who attempt this great theft have always come to grief.  They are devoured by the terrible guardians of the treasure, who pursue them unsleeping across chasms and seas, and never fail in their duty.  For the great green serpents Malice and Envy, and fire-eyed salamanders Greed and Hatred, surround then always and will be found even in the eyes of their dearest friends.

I myself have journeyed thence, but with a different aim.  By walking humbly as a supplicant, and with honesty and an open heart, I was granted the boon to gaze for a time upon the great jewels, blazing under the starlight like stars themselves, each with a color never seen before or since.  I walked away with empty hands, but with a far greater treasure.  For having seen their jeweled colors shine, I carry in my heart the memory that can never be lost.  I do not desire to see these wonders gripped within my fist, or closed with in a box; or even chained around the neck of a woman where they must either shame her beauty or be shamed by it.

And my greatest treasure is the knowlege that the jewels remain free and unbound.  If someday I shall chance upon a traveller in a inn who has likewise seen these wonders, what shall equal our richness?  For as we share with each other our memories of their beauty, each will awaken in the other memories yet more wonderful, shared freely, unstained by any dark thought.  What finer treasure is there, than that which can never be stolen, and as it is shared only grows more splendid? 

-- with thanks to Lord Dunsany

Wheeling Within

A poem, written at the quiet suggestion of Barn Swallow, to send out into the world...

I walk to the river,
The river of peace,
The river of dreams,
Jordan, Niger, Tigris, Anduin,
The runs from the mountains to the sea,
That carries our hopes, our prayers, our dead, our souls,
That waters the roots of the world.

I sit by the tree,
The tree of strength,
The tree of protection,
The tree of inspiration,
Yggrasil, Oak, Ash,
Tent pole of the heavens,
Giver of gifts,
Rooted in the earth,
Home to the birds that carry our dreams to heaven.
The tree is the river.

I gaze at the mountain,
The mountain of majesty,
The mountain of power,
Olympus, Fuji, Golgotha,
Home of the gods,
Forge of the earth,
Axis Mundi,
Bed of the sleeping giant,
Doorway to the ancients.
The mountain is the tree.
    The tree is the river.

I dance in the circle,
The circle of drums,
The circle of life,
The circle of hands,
Where dance the ancestors and the animal powers,
And are sung the mysteries,
In strophy and antistrophy.
The circle is the mountain.
    The mountain is the tree.
        The tree is the river.

I kneel at the altar,
The altar of reverence,
The altar of sacrifice,
The chamber of relics,
Where flows the grace, the grain, the blood,
The sacrifice of Demeter's daughter,
The rebirth of heaven's son.
The altar is the circle.
    The circle is the mountain.
        The mountain is the tree.
            The tree is the river.

I furrow the earth,
The earth of our crops,
The soil of our future,
The cradle of our death,
Gaia, Earth, Geb, Demeter,
Foundation of the world,
Mother of all that lives,
Source of the harvest,
The dust from which we came and will return.
The earth is the altar.
    The altar is the circle.
        The circle is the mountain.
            The mountain is the tree.
                The tree is the river.

I look to the sky,
The sky of stars,
The sky of mysteries,
The vault of the heavens,
The firmament, the crystaline sphere,
Where is scattered the stars and the wandering planets,
That taught us of time,
Hours, years, and centuries,
And the movements of the worlds through the river of stars.
The sky is the earth.
    The earth is the alar.
        The altar is the circle.
            The circle is the mountain.
                The mountain is the tree.
                    The tree is the river.
                        The river is the sky.
                            The sky is the earth...