[Shaman's Journey - from deviantart.com]
[This poem was given to me in a dream. I woke from sleep, seeing the Shaman's face right before my eyes, swiftly writing it down, as the dream and his face slipped away, faster than I could write. Posted for
Poetry Jam: Visions]
Time traveling,
winging through the cosmos,
my body
its own spacecraft-
nothing between
my Self
and all the stars,
bathing in their friendly light,
riding the vortex,
upward hurled,
traveling through Forever,
awesome
Sky-world.
Cosmic beings,
giant creatures
green and blue,
beckon me
to join them,
this journey
all the proof
(I always knew)
that we are One,
speaking a language
of the heart
that needs no words,
sharing a universe
where we all belong,
making music
in which we are all notes
of the same song.
Then, as I waken,
eyes open
and for sure
no longer dreaming,
I see
a painted mask,
First Nations warrior,
his face alive,
suspended there
before me.
He looks at me,
behind his painted mask,
Medicine man,
intensely kind and wise,
and, strangely unafraid,
I do not hide
but hold his shaman's glance
beguiling,
as he looks deeply,
deep into my eyes,
and smiling.
[When this waking dream happened to me, I had just collapsed with chronic fatigue but did not yet know what was wrong with me. I found the shaman's face so kind and reassuring, like he was telling me I would be all right. And I was.]
