In a dream this morning things were spilling, overflowing, things were breaking -
all my doing in a way, for not stopping the flows of mind in time to avoid collisions
with material reality.....
But it was all so new to me.
Manifesting thought energy zooming out a little too far a little too fast.
Breathing in the spicy June fragrance of honeysuckle, wet earth, blooming prairie,
I'll go into a walking me-as-countryside-breathing meditation:
I'll be a field of curing hay soaked in sunshine.
I'll be the call of the owl in the old sugar maple down the road.
I'll be the sound of the stream running over rocks...
These ways of being will re-mind me of the Slowness and the Quiet,
and all will be welll.
rate
email
print
link to this page
Comments: 14
This dream is too real. Wonderful, just wonderful poetry.
The curious crows
Wonderful, Carol, just wonderful...
Featured on
Poet's Weekly Muse
Dreams point the way to the dawning day
typo: all will be well...or was it on purpose?
Oh, it is a typo - I'll correct it - and thanks.
And many thanks for the feature!
Oh yes. Just lovely. Isn't it wonderful to be able to catch our dreams and send them flowing in a positive direction?
Wilhelmine - sort of like gardening the mind, isn't it. Gosh, I sure have a lot of weeds! (c:*
I could feel the transition from the fast and multifaced flow to the calming and more focused meditation. I felt there Carolion. Beautiful and such a great gift to start my day. I'll be the snow gently melting on Mt. Rainier, trickliing down to the meadows below, ready to drink for the sake of their flowers.
Oh, magic! Have you ever read some of the old REAL fairy tales where a character shapeshifts into this and that in order to escape a bad witch? What you've written reminds me of that.
Perhaps we are a part of that history, no one to escape just a magic moment.
I never knew how much one could enjoy the slow and quiet until the universe wisked me out of the faster paced midwest into the stillness of the mountains. I've decided I like the solitude and will just go with the flow.
This poem is reminds me of my own transition period. I love these gentle reminders showing up and adding to my gratitude list. I am so grateful for Montana's wide open spaces, the clean freah air, a little less material colliding, spilling, overflowing and breakage.
You make your mountain solitude sound so wonderful, you're going to end up attracting a bunch of gatherites to do a writers' workshop at your place. (c:*
Poddar and Jean, thank you!
How well you captured the frenetic, everything-slightly-out-of-control pace of your dream, and how well you shared with the reader your calming of the waters.
Excellent Carolion! An absolutely lovely poem. I believe you are all those things.