Island Dreaming

By Clarity

Island Dreaming

Introduction:

Dreaming more than we realize, we come to the island shore, step out, and quicken our life.

Island Dreaming

Fitting into the picture of Island dreaming, the Silence came closer to the noise. The noise was related to the Deer and the gentleness of spirit led the way.

The following was breathed upon, and the stillness focused the inspiration for acceptance.

Filling the sacred with hoof and print, the noise was scarce of its fit. Hollowed out was the opening, and it floated across the sea till it came to the shore of rounded rock, kissing at the tide.

The smoke from the hut upon the shore was given notice, and the door opened. From the door came Raven, and the waiting had stood still by the looking. Current passed

between them and the surrender happened in the moment.

The sea gulls surrounded the moment, and filled it with memory of the sounds of shore. Calling inward, the Raven took the Deer Woman by the hand and they walked beyond the shore into the wood.

The wood folded in around them as they spoke of forest and tree, flower and herb, water and fish, sun and moon, stars and earth. They awoke not a creature as they

treaded softly through the time of their meeting, each having words of feeling for the other.

Coming slowly into the clearing, they walked safely beyond all danger of open. Their legs crossed as they sat in conference with the moment of sharing, and the space was made sacred by their blessing.

Creatures stood small, creatures stood tall, creatures stood close, creatures stood far. Feeling the coming of

words, they silenced the movement and made comfort their feelings.

The coming into Circle was the nature of the gathering, and the center of the words of nature. The nature of surprise filled all who gathered, for the presence of the Deer Woman had come in a time of most desire.

The precious voice spread through the air as the movement of wings formed opening for the conversation of time given to island gathering. Responding to each

head bent in honor of each head bent, all sacred within life, folding into the sacred of all bending heads.

Power moved with the forming, and the words of meaning pitched into the center of all hoping. The center of each heart unfolded the findings of island home. Deep inside the caving of solitude held within island solidarity, was the folding of having what was held as wanted.

Each had come to their place of silence, and in the Silence, much was made spoken. Spoken was the air,

spoken was the light, spoken was the earth, spoken was the deep fire of transformation.

Winding with the column of surface that holds each erect, was the decision. The decision making the voices of all, spoken real in all ways of sacred. Within the Circle of created awareness, each sensed the sense that knows each in its own endurance.

Leaves flew into a fury around their gathered limbs and the air of fall covered the floor. Winter, soon in its coming,

frosted the breaths of the evening as it approached, knowing each had come to the purpose of expecting.

The falling into began, it began with the breath, then it began with the quiet repose that made supple the folding into the falling. Falling into the night sky, falling into the night air, falling to the night shadows of words, falling into the feelings of deep.

Deep into the conscience of what had been decided upon. Decided upon the place of forming, decided upon

the raising of change, decided upon the surrounded of water.

Water flowing from the start, water reaching from the pouring, water seeking the sharing of home. Keeping sacred well within the surface, the decided pulled up from its mystery, the coming of stone.

Stone becoming the eggs of new life. Combing the water’s edge with the rolling of its fiber, till the salt had

rounded its forming. Forming the new into the edge of sea, where the land lays naked to its turning and rising.

Quietly opposing all forces that see no passion in rolling, quietly forcing the fibers to recede, quietly making the voice of water meet stone for the framing of future, within the recording of stone listening.

Listening to the sea moving deeper into island standing, sea moving her sound more fully into their hearts. Stone making all hearts one in the rising of power.

Feeling the movement of space between the trees, as the night fills with the black of space, creating a room all could dwell within in ease.

Calling together the memory of place, as all had traveled to see, freeing the volume of home to be felt tall. Creating spaces that unfold memories. They traveled through the memories, yet never left the space they remained in, held within the arms of the island rooted within the rhythm of Sea. Becoming more like fluid that like flesh, each felt the swim of motion becoming memory.

Memory that washes the thoughts of less through the hair, and into the salt of the sea, to be diluted into no sound. All parts of each becoming more real than has ever been felt before.

The calling was heard, and the sound became so clear that all heads turned. Turned they were toward the face of the call, and the chill in the air was refreshed.

The embarking had happened, and the round of gathering became more trinary. The triangle formed the question, and the calling embarked the voyage of inner.

The mystery unfolded with each head turned, and all parts met within its source. Placing the courage held within each source, each turned head faced its own self, called into motion of call.

Standing among the stones of turned, all took in the memory of home becoming real. Real within the land surrounded by water of the emotion of ocean, filling the source with persona.

Listening quietly, gaining silently, filling openly, all eggs crack open and the yoke flows. The yellow pours into the spine of each and the fire wages a meaning of way.

All come into the beginnings of their potential, and the frailty of past becomes more pulsed, and the blood stiffens the frame, and the strength rises.

Each coming into the wise of gathered. The Raven Woman turns now to the Gentleness of Deer Woman and they hold the flesh of becoming within the web of their weaving.

They touch the light of the frame, and the color pours into the sight sought. The picture becoming the painted of wind, water, and motion.

The weaving flows with its electricity through the hands, and the Circle widens. Each becoming enfolded within the fabric, and the matter became more fleshed and each was clothed with the persona they were, and the gold of laminated direction sparked the air.

The closure becoming close, the breath was taken in and the texture moved through bone. Bones, hardened to rise, all become more upright than ever before. All that was sought was given, and all were in Grace.

The circle crescented its moon, and the setting of moment was met with rise of new dawn. Boat waited, Deer Woman stepped within and Raven Woman followed, reaching the step in time of tide.

The relationship of dreaming is so profound, in a world weary from living. Through dreaming the living can become spacious.

Publishers: Su.Sane & Robert Hake, Clarity