Dream Seeds that Give the Artist Fruit . . .

I thought of the words a poet friend of long ago sent to me – three fragments about the Voice of God, and the poems rang out in my mind as Speck and I journeyed onto the island of the Temple people.

As the waves rolled, and the moon beamed out, Dido sang to us a song.

Song of the Seed

A seed that gives you wings
Is made up of all number of things
It lives in the ocean’s of the heart
It can make your souls’ potion
It finds a place in the earth of the artist’s birth
And gives you some kind of worth
“I am oh my God but a tiny seed
which thou hast sowed in the soil of thy love” (from Bahai Prayer)

Speck chirped along providing a backdrop for the song. His little chirp was itself like a tiny seed.

We came close to the shore, and it was time for Dido to leave us for a little while. We made our way to find the place where our seeds were. I thought about seeds that give us wings, and wondered were they might lie hid.

The Moreton bay figs that lined the shore began to chant using an Eastern scale. Ah such trees, to hide in, climb in, and to wonder at. I remembered all the trees of my life, the Pointsiana, Frangapani and apple orchards.

Apples – was it apple seeds I must find? Golden Delicious, Granny Smiths I could taste each apple as my heart named them. A tree that bears fruit was most likely what I sought, but I did not know what kind of fruit, because I did not know what fruit lay on this island.

Speck climbed into my pocket because the morning light was coming. My pocket is lined with a rainbow reptile carpet to make him comfortable. I knew he would rest awhile and now I must find them without his song- it was time to find my own.

As I walked deeper into the island, other trees sang to me of the Temple and the seeds that awaited me there. I heard distant giggles. I came across stairs leading to a river.

I came across a river leading to a cave.

I knew it was time to swim across to the cave, but waiting for me were the two sisters from the angel panel, looking into the river as if it was mirror.

“Sing our river a song”, said the younger looking one.
“And we will give you this mask let you pass,” her sister continued.

Where was Speck when you needed him that nocturnal creature?

to be continued….

(c) Words and Images Unity Bell
(c) Dream Seeds spark – Soul Food

To read more of this adventure head to Unity’s Cabin

Morgaine’s Detour

I left the Vulcania with every intention of heading directly to the train station from where I was to board a train taking me on a somewhat perilous, or so I had been told, journey to the caves wherein I would meet with my Dream Master.

The irony of the timing of this venture had not escaped me.  Imbolc is fast approaching, the ritual lighting of candles and fires to welcome  the slowly increasing power of the Sun with its promise of good harvests in the year to come and yet here was I, not for the first time in my life it is true, going in entirely the other direction, headed inwards to the dark when all around are beginning to turn outwards to the sun and the light.

However, on my way to the station I was brushed by someone obviously well versed in the art of shadow dancing.  S/he appeared as a wavering of the light, quite, quite indistinct to most eyes yet I could define a figure within swathed in rainbow silks.  This person laid into my hand an invitation.  It was to the Sementivae Seed Festival and although I knew the meeting with my Dream Master was somewhat overdue, I would not ignore this opportunity to plant for the future before turning inwards.

I followed the sign to the Temple which lay within a grove – a place of great natural beauty and peace.

Above the entrance to the grove:

I entered and was amazed at how the outer look of the Temple belied what lay inside it……as the inside was, in fact, open to nature.  I took my place to sit quietly to meditate on the year to come and to offer up prayers of gratitude.

This place resonated deep within me, transporting me to another time.   I was once again walking in meditation the spiral path of the Tor on Summer Isle.  I was hearing clearly the chanting and footfall of those who accompanied me as I took the circular route to the top, whereupon we would welcome back the light and pray for  fecundity in the year to come.

View from the Tor across the Summer Lands (Avalon):

I was connected to the earth beneath me, feeling my roots sinking ever deeper into her welcoming arms, the energy of the earth rising in me, awakening the snake energy which lies within us all, travelling from the base up through the spine.  I am at one totally at peace, connected and energised.  I am ready for the journey which lies before me.

High pitched singing brought me back to the present.  Slowly I returned, my vision adjusting itself to the here and now.  Stretching and looking about me I saw the masks hung to one side of the Temple.  I was instructed to focus and choose one to wear for the planting.  I chose a simple full-face one – the blue of which drew me to it, it being the blue of our robes on Summer Isle.

I was feeling quite wistful as I made my way down the path towards the meadow, holding the small hand-crafted pouch which contained the seeds.

On reaching the meadow I closed my eyes and let my feet guide me to the correct planting spot.  On opening my eyes I saw before me a small stone circle,  it looked to be a medicine wheel and I knew this was my place.

I sat in quiet contemplation for a while, offering up my prayers for the futures of us all whilst very slowly and deliberately planting the seeds.

I stayed a while breathing in the wonderful surroundings, reluctant to leave the warmth and peace of this place that reminded me so much of  my ancestral home, but I knew I must.

It was time.  I arose and set out for the station.

Morgaine.