Friday, 14 November 2008

And Me, And We


Coming home from work in the driving drizzle; the white bumper of the outlandishly huge 4X4 in front of me began to take on a washed-out, dreamy cast.

I'm finding it ever easier to slip into an altered state of consciousness - and there, at the foot of the Tree by the bridge across the little river, wait my two Ancestor Representatives. They each take one of my hands and lead off across the bridge: Pied Crow flutters to a perch upon my right shoulder, and Panther stalks before us, swaying ferally. I feel the presence of my two Guardian Deities at my back.

Here, before us, a mighty ocean, whose edges melt into the endless sea of night.

Rising from the water, a hundred thousand - no, a dozen billion - differentiated Souls who dance upon the surface to the all-pervading music of Life.

Some rise a little higher than others, but all, eventually, subside once more into the Water from which they arose, taking back down with them a myriad experiences, lessons, ways of being and of creating. And memories. They do not forget in the ocean.
Rather they remember what it was like to be spirit incarnate upon four dimensions, and this is shared.

I know this with deep certainty - we are never wasted. Each life contributes something to the multitude which is One, in the end.

Will I, when I return to the natal sea from which I came, remember being Terri Moore, born Anderson, who thought she could know something of how the universe held together and tried to follow those clues wherever they led?

Yes. And I will also remember being that Indian Minah which rushed past the windscreen at dusk, stirring the air with her cries in search of food. And I will remember being that little girl who died so young, trapped for days waist-deep in waste mine water, her body slowly freezing to death before the ice reached her brain. And that old man who thought the world was built on money , and power, and tried to enliven his days playing games of wealth. And that cockroach! And that trembling rye-grass! And those moles who lived their entire lives beneath the soil!

And those who saw only through to the next day, and those who saw the future, and tried to preserve the Life within it.

For all we have been shall never pass away. That Thou Art, and Me,and We.

2 comments:

  1. What, no gold harps? I endure all this shit and no gold harp? NOT FAIR!

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  2. and the dust motes dancing in the rays of the sun, the rainbow trout glimmering in the light mottled depths, the faun suckling at her mother's breast

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