Flying at the Water's Edge It is dusk in a native island town. There is a celebration at the beach and everyone is in a festive mood. People are gathering their lanterns to take with them in their air balloons or homemade flying machines. I am with a woman. We close our eyes as we stand side by side and enter into a trance. Soon, I can feel the air changing as I breath. We begin to rise. Soon, we are up quite high. I am exhilarated but fear if I open my eyes, it will affect the trance and then we may crash down. I touch her shoulder for connection. As soon as the woman senses my trepidation, we slowly descend and our feet lightly touch the ground. I open my eyes and watch as people float in their balloons with their lanterns. In a distance to the right and further down the beach, I notice two people are making an image of an ancient white bird woman which reminds me of the winged Nike of Samothrace . . . glowing, about to take flight, and a Pre-Columbian golden tumi is levitating next to her. Both are magnificent, glowing, as everyone watches with a sense of awe, ascend. |
Spore and the Universe I run into the green field where I pick up a dandelion spored seed puff. Then, I become a spore—the microcosm in the macrocosm. It all seems so clear to me how we are all made up of energy and life, how we are all the same. A tiny spore is the same as the universe. I notice a large moth’s cocoon casing lying flat on the field and pick it up. I hold it like a sheet while it blows in the wind. I feel joyous and free. |
Reviving a Bird
A bird is dying. It is in pieces. I place it in the sun and watch it come alive again. Then it strokes me on my cheek with its colorful feathery wings. next scene: I watch the black charred bird in pieces in a jar knowing there is still some life there. Everyone else gives up on it. I watch it until it comes together again and turns into a white bird with white and sky blue wings. It comes over to me and strokes me lovingly on the cheeks. |