of myth and legend

Ancient Minoan Olive Tree at Kavousi (3250 years old)

Among the twigs and branches of the mythic forest, I find my way forward, eyes wide open in awe, gazing at the unfamiliar green giants towering above, and at fuchsia toadstools that hide upon the edge of the narrow path where flower petals have fallen and given themselves to guide my way softly with loving encouragement. 

The mythic forest is strong and lush, filled with the truth that I seek. Each footstep is hushed by the layer of leaves and blossoms while a rainbow guides my reaching hands into the next moment of surprise and welcome. The energy changes constantly as desires of millions fly in and out of these woods and clearings upon the wings of fairies who smile with delight to know the change is happening. They’ve been patient and encouraging for thousands of years, and are eager to help in the shift.

I raise my hands and see them tattooed with henna peace symbols, tracings of the veins of leaves that welcome me by tapping on my shoulder and caressing my cheek before drifting to the forest path to leave a secret message in the earth as their own change begins.

A new day is dawning and here where all possibility and potential lives, the inhabitants are rising, pulling on their moccasins of community and their cloaks of imagination, washing their faces in the dew of the rushing waters held a while in suspension but now released, a misty wisdom hurling itself into the morning with the joyous giggling of droplets that can fall freely now back to the ocean and rivers of flowing Vital Force within which lies creativity and freedom. Here in the mythic forest, a change is happening and I am witness to it all.

The walls around the forest have been pulled down by hobbits and rabbits and all those who continued to dig under or climb over in the dark of the night knowing the sacred core was still glowing within, though hidden away at one time for safety and protection, but then was hoarded, and finally forgotten and buried by the overgrowth of inactivity within its depths. Come into the mythic forest where all who love are welcome, where all can play in peace together under the GaiaTree. 

No longer divided or kept away, no longer hidden from self or others, pure freedom flies in this mythic forest upon the wings of the white doves and the wise owl while the eagle takes its cue from them, descending onto its ledge to rest and nurture its neglected young in peace and plenty. The vulture picks clean the bones outside the forest so that they are ready for transformation and renewal, and I help to carry the bones into the mythic forest where the bleached remnants are honored and then burned upon the altar of change, the spirits within rising to kiss the sky, and the ashes fall to nourish the earth. 

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Stream of consciousness writing from today's ClarityWorks writing prompt "mythic forest"