Falling Snow

Falling from one world to the next.
Spinning.
Swirling my senses.
Changing the energy. Changing the Earth.

Changing the patterns of our space, our reality, our environment.

Does falling snow add moisture to the air?
Or thick density?
Do you perceive snow as light and fluffy and fun?
Or do you have trouble breathing in the soggy, harsh air?

Do you turn your face to the heavens, enjoying the soft flakes as they dance on the tip of your nose?

Creatures of the Earth tunnel through the soft heaviness; making trails in the pure whiteness.
Playing and frolicking and having fun.
Others shiver; hidden deep in their dens, their burrows. Only venturing out when necessary - for food.

Some poor animals lose their way, floundering in its vast whiteness; on and on through the bitter cold.
Until they stop.
Utterly drained of all energy
Lying still........having surrendered their
lifeforce to the cold.

Who are you?

"Who are you?" asks the Goddess.

"I am your heart," replies the dove.

"My heart? "

"Your heart."

"Well then little white dove, why are you here?"

"To take you home."

"Home?"

"It is time," White Dove coos softly.

"But I won't leave Akasha - I've been sitting here for hundreds of years, watching over him. I can't leave him now. What if somebody chops him down?"

"It is not your call; not your decision. Your time here is done.

"Come," whispers White Dove, fluttering its wings, "It is time."

A Gift

Babies are Beings from the Nonphysical,
eternally coming forth
for the creation of that which they decide.

The Babies are wanting, so much,
for you to know that
All is Well.

Fire

The Old Man was getting tired. Sooo tired. Dare he rest for a bit?
'I'll just sit down here', he thought to himself,' but not for too long'.
He knew he still had things to do. His energy was flagging, as was his spirit. He wanted to sleep. Lethargy overcame him and he almost, almost gave in to it. 'Just a little longer', he thought to himself.

A warmth spread over his face. Was this the sun?
"Father Sun!" he cried out. "Why are you here at this time? It is dusk!"

The Old Man felt his face growing hotter, then his body. It was uncomfortable, but he could do nothing to take it away. The more he struggled the hotter he became.

"I am Spirit; why are you fighting me?" came a voice.

The Old Man turned his face to the heavens. And saw the Light.

Lady of Water

"Fair Lady of the Water," whispers the Old Man.

"Where do you go?"
"Where do you flow?"

"I am not here. I am just an illusion."

Someone is playing tricks on me. I will call my faithful dolphins and get to the bottom of this.


The Old Man climbs aboard his Dolphins and they take him to his cousin, Merlin.

"Merlin, my good fellow. Have you seen or heard from the Lady of the Water?"

"Strange you should ask. I was trying to contact Her myself, but her image keeps fading away."






"You should know better than to try and capture me."

Suddenly the Old Man threw back his head and laughed.

He knew the answer.

Spirit of the Hills

The Old Man next looked to the Rolling Hills.
Ahhhh...... to communicate with the Spirit of the Hills, I will need my crystal.

Spirit of the Hills (as we all know) is older than the Old Man.
Older than the lakes and rivers.
Older than the trees and flowers.
As old as Time.

Dwelling deep within the Hills, he is Keeper of the Earth.
Rarely does he see the light of day.

As the Old Man gazes into the Crystal, the form of a Unicorn appears.
"Magical Unicorn," calls the Old Man. "Are you the Spirit of the Hills?"
The Unicorn stamps its foot, and points its magical horn downward.
Something is written in the Earth.

The Old Man scrunches up his eyes and scratches his head.
I can't see anything, he thinks to himself.
Then slowly, gradually, the writing in the Earth becomes clear.
Chuckling to himself, he picks up his pen and writes in his Book of Wisdom.

The Old Man

The Old Man sighed as he looked towards the heavens.
So many stars, so many souls.
What words of wisdom do I have to impart?
But the stars didn't answer. They just winked back at the Old Man.
They had secrets, but weren't telling.
The Old Man was patient.
He sat on the rocks and waited..
And waited..
And waited...

A gentle breeze sprang up and tickled his nose. It blew on the feather quill he was using for a pen.
The Old Man listened.
And knew what to write in his Special Book.
His Book of Wisdom.