The ghosts, they come and go
Lingering in the darkness of a crowded mind
Moving in and out, wispy and ethereal,
Making space for their meanderings
Between the walls of untrained thoughts
And loose-lipped whispers
Whispers of the past
Harbingers of a future yet unseen
These ghosts, they dominate the mind
When the mind dwells in past affairs
Swirling in and through the soul,
Making present lives but a hazy dream
These ghosts, they are but fiction,
A fragment of a dream already dreamt
No amount of clinging will bring them back
Or make them real again
These ghosts, just let them be
When love is your passion
Your hobby’s not a game,
It’s a lifestyle,
A yearning deep within that can’t be quenched
By momentary attention or periodic preparedness
No, you must feel the passion rising every day
Until it’s lodged in the makings of your soul,
The first thought of the day,
Before the apricot sun makes her way to the sky,
The final dream before the rising of the moon in your heart
These dreams, they must be tapped, developed, nurtured,
Alchemically converted and swallowed whole
Passion rising in your spirit
Until Spirit guides you home
The calling is inside you
whether you acknowledge it or
leave it to be carried off by
wind or whim
or the cold seed of time
which grows leafless trees
and stark contrast against
barren branches grasping,
weeping secret tears of joy
for connection to dreams within
that you at once shun
and hold against your soul,
for the seed
that may ripen on the vine or
follow the rocks downstream,
absolved of all pretense
to be encased in the next life
or waking dream
Recently I dreamed that I was with a woman who was giving birth. I and the other women present were encouraging her as she worked when suddenly the thought came to me “just a head”. Next, I looked at the birthing woman lying naked on her side, bearing down one last time as the baby crowned. With one final push, the baby’s head emerged–and dropped to the floor. Silence befell the room. And there, in the stillness, a miracle occurred. The baby’s body appeared, united with its discontinuous head. Then I awoke.
I knew the dream was symbolic. I’ve been hearing a voice sometimes while dreaming that says “This is important! Remember this!” However, I don’t usually wake up enough to write down my dreams and they’re lost by morning. But this dream happened just before I woke for the day, and I knew instantly that it had deep meaning. I pondered it for about a week, analyzing the possible symbolism. What does birthing represent? What can a headless baby possibly mean? What about the body appearing?
I started thinking about my life for the past few years, especially this whirlwind year: my growth, my soul expansion, my dreams, my goals, my blocks. And suddenly it came to me. The birthing woman was ME, laboring to bring forth my own truth, my authentic existence to the world. and just when I get to the moment of truth, the final moment when my labor of love is born into the world, it’s decapitated, lopped off by my fears, insecurities, distractions from the goal, feelings of unworthiness. Despite all my hard work, there my dream rolls around, lifeless on the floor. But in this dream, the body materializes and reconnects with its head. The dream is made whole again, the labor complete, the need for mourning averted. This is my message — the time is here for me to throw off fear, to reconnect my head to my body (which contains my heart), to go forth and do that which I am called to do.
A fair maiden
Travels through an enchanted forest
Purple trees & pink grass
Green flowers & lavender skies
Psychedelic beauty abounds
Still inebriated from the color bounty
The maiden approaches a castle
Intrigued by the orange door
The door opens
And she is greeted
By a Wise Woman
Flowing robes of white
Flowing hair of grey
She takes her hand
As they enter
“I will show you what you need to see”
What do you see?
What do you feel?
Where do you feel pain, sadness?
Where do you feel nothing?
That is where you begin.
Relish in the good
Gain strength from it
But use the pain & nothingness
To start over
A fresh beginning,
I had the most awe-inspiring dream recently. In it, I and several others were walking on a residential street at night. The street sloped downward, where it dead-ended at an open field which was flanked by trees. We were at the top of the slope. Suddenly, I saw a large egg-shaped ball of light, taller than the trees, in the middle of the field. The ball was lavender in color, with a ring of shimmering white around it, and lavender rays shining out from it. I started shouting to everyone around me “Do you see that?! Do you see that?!” but no one could see it except me. I was filled with awareness that this was just for me.
Inside the ball were hundreds of translucent white light beings. They did not have features (eyes, mouths, arms, etc.) but they were clearly beings. I could make out heads & shoulders. Next, the ball was gone and the beings were scattered about in the field. And then I woke up.
For days after that dream, I was excited and yet peaceful, and have since had an overwhelming desire to tell everyone about it. I want to commission an artist to depict this for me so that I can revisit it whenever I want, it resonated with me that strongly. I can still clearly see the vision, the exact shade of lavender, the peaceful beings that were there just for me.