put mind at ease
along the forest floor,
as I bend down
to see this town
beyond the mundane door.
A little forest of tightly clustered tiny mushrooms grow to the side of the path I walk. Their inner reaches beyond mine to grasp, yet I knew them, the dark inner sanctum where secrets to the universe lay in waiting. The fragile forest could not be breached by might or force because that would cause the secrets t sink back into the ground more quickly than the eye could see or senses feel. There is only one way to learn the secrets of the mushroom forest ... to sit on the rim, to open and allow the nature elementals and the fairies and gnomes to whisper in a still ear, to brush mushroom dust along eyelashes of closed eyes, to gently inhale the ash blown off the palm of a tiny hand. I try to sneak a peek, cheek against the ground, eyes narrowed and soft, blurring the view, willing, waiting ... What was that?! A white shadow, misty, deep within the mushroom trunks, she wraps thin wispy arms around a solid brown trunk, becoming almost invisible as she merges with the mushroom, she giving love and Prana from the Light in which she has been playing, the mushroom sharing secrets of the beautiful creativity that lies within all beings, sharing the building blocks of minerals to create solidity to manifest in form. Yellow sparkles twinkle around the two in their loving embrace, dancing and drifting, like miniscule puffs of a dandelion a hundred times smaller and less substantial than those I see in my own larger world. My eyes close and I sleep while the mushrooms send out tendrils beneath the earth to touch my no-thing -- the part of me that cannot be seen but is a more vital part than what is visible. To share secrets that we all know. All we have to do is wake up then, awaken.
When Ron and I take the walks together on the weekend, he's amazed at how every blade of grass is like brand new to the dogs, but then, learning to see through the dogs' view, is unsurprised when I show him two tiny, red pearl-sized fungi growing next to a root; bright and waxy, they appear on their own, just these two.
What beautiful writing. You really have a way with words. :-)
ReplyDeleteThank you so much, Kerry.
ReplyDelete