In the Spirit of Listening

In the depths of darkness, from somewhere inside the belly, a roaring fire pushed and shoved underneath the mountains.  There was no air to speak of.  The burning embers stole every tiny piece of nothingness from damp mud between the rocks.  The rumbling noise propelled itself to a position of greatness until the skin could no longer hold it inside.  From the bowels of the earth it rose, broke through the mountain top and began to eat everything in sight.  The fuming liquid raged and slaughtered thousand year old trees, houses and roads.  It devoured everything in its path.  Sensational temperatures of over 2,000 degrees Fahrenheit smothered the land.

Years go by before the last dying flames began to cool.  Wind traveled from the heavens with vibrational wisdom from the stars.  Stars have held themselves in mid-air for eternity watching over our planet.  Their brilliant sageness was gifted to the millions of lava rocks frozen in time under long snow covered ground.  They waited for someone to listen.

Many winters have passed and what remains along the mountain slopes are black, glass-like rock we call obsidian.  I named the piece gifted to me several years ago “Black Moon”.  Her majesty Black Moon graces my garden with magical transformative powers.  Her throne is amidst a patch of Pelargonium.  Pela, I call them, possess a delicate pink flower.  They captivate her majesty with their singing.  Their soprano voices sing women’s honoring songs for her majesty every evening while the Sun is fading behind the mountains.  The rhythm of Pela’s pink flowers keep time to Mother Earth’s heartbeat.  They lift their voices to the goddess Venus and hold their secrets all the way down to the roots and patiently wait for the gifting blessing of the morning light.

Early before Grandfather Sun peaks his bright haze in the eastern sky, we are in our pajamas with our hot coffee in hand.  We perch on our purple chairs and listen to Black Moon’s memories of the ancient ones before the birds begin their chatter and while the Pelargonium’s pink flowers are fast asleep.

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  1. You are laughter and sparkle!!! Thank you for sharing.

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