Swimming in dreamtime,
she follows the songlines of the ancestors
across the bare brown desert of the heart
towards the mountains.
On the other side, where the ley lines meet,
all green and golden,
lies a power place,
the great sea, silver and shimmering,
singing with ten thousand voices
of the ten thousand things
that comprise the dharma path.
In this dream,
there are the haunted cries of wolves,
of owls, of ancient spirits;
the deep green forest
is alive, awake,
is alive, awake,
and talking in tongues.
It whispers to her soul
where are you?
why are you not here?
Trees reach out their arms for her;
her heart is drawn there
as surely as a murrelet
is drawn back to its nest
is drawn back to its nest
from across the shining water.
In this dream,
Wild Woman rides the winds of hope,
looking down on all that she loves:
green, bearded Grandfather Cedar,
the roar of the waves,
caw of raven,
imperious piercing eagle-cry,
the long white beaches
stretching to Forever,
and her, above, exulting,
in the tangy salt sea air,
flying along the shore.
So many impediments
between her
between her
and her heart's home,
in the real time.
But in the dreamtime,
one is always There,
one is always There,
cradled by the sleepy forest,
curled in the rootbed of an ancient cedar,
beside a small tender wolf-pup
with shining eyes
and joyous yipping heart,
mist wrapping softly around them
in the fresh new morning,
and the sound of the soft waves,
lapping, forever,
forever,
endless and eternal,
in her heart.
for earthweal: A Midsummer Night's Dreamtime. I penned this poem in 2014, when I lived inland, pining for Tofino. And now I am here, in the magnetic pull of its ley lines, which draws poets and dreamers, artists and carvers to its shores - along with a million tourists a year, which makes our small village very busy. But they come for the beauty, and the wildness which is vanishing under the crush of people, like everywhere on the planet.
This poem proves that when one knows where she belongs, and believes, one can manifest a dream. I did - not once, but twice. Not an easy feat in this village of No Housing for any but millionaires.
I echo Brendan's question: why is the dreamtime's answer always yes?
I absolutely love this Sherry. Such power in the idea of manifesting a dream through the knowledge of where you belong.
ReplyDelete'she follows the songlines of the ancestors
across the bare brown desert of the heart'
- there's such an ache of separation here. I have felt it too, and perhaps do still. I hope we can all find our way back to caring for our home, this earth.
I love this too, Sherry ... The songline leys the heart of one's truth and beauty and hope. Singing it for us here affirms that those things can be sung and found. Loved it. More! - Brendan
ReplyDeleteI like how you put yourself in this poem. The description is breathe taking.
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written Sherry, I love the full sensory experience in your dream journey and am so happy you are living in your paradise with 'the sound of the soft waves,
ReplyDeletelapping, forever,
forever,
endless and eternal,
in her heart'
dreamtime gives us hope for realtime, and you give us hope, too, Sherry ~
ReplyDeleteBeautifully written and speaks of your great love for nature and all creatures.In the dreamtime you become one with nature evolving with mother earth.
ReplyDeleteThat's a beautiful dream, I could feel the magnetic pull of place and spirit.
ReplyDeleteSo much beauty and power in this manifestation Sherry. Thank you for sharing you journey with us.
ReplyDeleteThis is a reminder that it is a privilege to feel belonging and a privilege to live where one feels it. I'm reminded that not all are so very, very lucky. Also that some prefer a city or even a suburb and I shouldn't judge them. It took me an angry sister to learn that!
ReplyDeleteYour poetry always takes me to the west coast, Sherry, there is such a wonderful sense of place in your poems..JIM
ReplyDelete