Threshold

The Wind has blown harshly for many a day now.  At night, however, it leaves, likely to quarrel with some other foe, I imagine.

I’ve been camping at the edge of this place for days.  Staring blankly at the fire I’ve built and seeming immobilized.  I walk the length of the sand where it meets moist soil, grass…freedom.  I’ve been watching the birds.  I’ve been absorbing the crisp scent of water somewhere near.  I swear I can hear it. 

The owl has followed me the complete way.  It has flown beyond this desert and is watching me from a thick branch, low and in plain sight of me on the other side.  It has said nothing for weeks.  It’s been as though it never spoke.  Have I imagined all its words, its secret language, its truth?   I don’t know.  I’m certain of death and life, that one surely follows the other, but which is Master for they both beget each other?   They're lovers of some sort.

There is a lioness by my owl.  She comes only at night to rest near him as friendly farm animals might do.  She’s moved near to me several times, always slow yet unafraid in her movements.  Her energy is calm.  Wisdom graces her face with snowy white hair.  I have seen her on occasion behave like a kitten, she seems most happiest then.  She’s watching me now.

Last night I dreamt of Eden.  Residual cells from another life I lived a year ago.  What does my sleep mind want with her?  Her energy is a figment like that of Aries.  They even feel the same in my dream world.  I couldn’t remember at first of whom I dreamt, slowly the image revealed itself.   What good is it now to recall her energy - now that I am dead in that past?  For what betrayal of Self is this that I should remember her at all?  Ego; perhaps it is Ego keeping me at bay here, stuck in this place, pacing.  Perhaps it is Ego reminding me, pulling me into that past where there is only pain.  Perhaps it fights harder now that I’ve reached the threshold to freedom, and it threatens to lose not a battle, but the war.

A violent wind has blown, snuffing out my fire. 

I’m left to sit and wonder about the owl; the lioness; if any will move near me here in the dark.



I remain,

Lesley

Hallelujah Heartist