There is a shift happening to me. From speaking to other mystics, healers, light workers, and empaths with heightened sensitivity I find I am not alone. A sense of dream walking in the daytime, an unsettling. The knowing of not knowing. Maybe it is unknowing – an undoing – or unveiling of truths we have yet to comprehend. There is an unsteadiness and unfamiliarity to the worlds we inhabit. A transitioning – evolving – shifting in who or how we are. My dreams are full – overflowing – filled with languages, wisdom and imagery I do not entirely understand. I am still integrating it all.
People who have lived in the peripheral of my life have come in – through the dream time and confirmation. There are connections being made – strengthened – reaffirmed that I have not yet discerned. They honor me and frighten me as I step into facing more of who I am – who we are collectively.
What is it that we are being moved to or from? I remind myself – surrender – all truths unfold in their own time. This is a time of observing and honoring the winds of change. I pray I am worthy as I travel soul cords and journey through spirit channels to realms so beautiful, I do not want to leave or wake.
Winter is a time of waiting – of being still. Yet, I feel unsteady; drunk with possibilities. Winter is the loving; pregnant mother being stretched by life as the soul of her child travels back and forth between dimensions – carrying heavenly messages.
This “poem” is my place keeper. I want to remember these winter winds and dreams. I stand in holy reverence of this unfolding.
May we all be born and bathed in light and love,
Blessings,
Elizabeth
Winter’s Dreaming Wind
As I look at the rising sun, the morning’s tender hues caress me in amethyst prisms and
Coyolxauhqui, “woman with golden bells on her cheeks” cradles me in her full moon resplendence.
Whispers from the dream time stretch their supple fingers –
wrapping themselves around me – through me.
Bending and stretching all that ever will be
between realms and realities – seen and unseen.
In every cell of my soul,
I am moved – rocked – pushed – brushed against -unplanted
In the swirling wind of transformation
the edges of who I am fade and
burn away as I swallow the stars.
I dream of crystals entering me –
melding into me
making me crystalline.
I am returned to the cave of knowledge,
impregnated with a wisdom that communicates to me in a language I do not yet speak.
I am unearthed,
ungrounded,
suspended between dimensions and worlds,
teachers and masters.
Even my breath does not bring me back to center or solid.
I am floating energy – unattached – free.
I sleep to fight fragmented battles
with demons I have yet to bury.
In my evening prayers, I ask to heal – return wholeness to holy.
I stand in strawberry colored deserts –
side by side with silent medicine men.
Turquoise skies bend down and kiss the crowns of our souls.
Holy wisdom whispers to us in tongues – riding on the wind of ravens’ wings.
The ancestors etched in red rocked faces on monuments rising like pyramids in the arid sand
hold space in the empty fullness of this hallowed dream.
On the winter wind of another dream,
I travel inside myself
but I am never alone
in every fiber of my being
in the very seed of light
of who I am
there is You.
12/17/19