Children of morrows;
their cries ringing everywhere
soaking Earth purple
Foggy landscapes met
teary eye saturated
with pains of fledglings
Stormy weather formed
flower of life in my chest
that drenched my heart red
Pouring rain renewed
hope in another Earth’s rise
The bud of my thoughts
Petals bloomed in mind
blossoms of tomorrow’s world
that dewy drops spelt
Misty skies breathed soft
whispers of promises kept
Wet grass tickled feet
The rhythm is that of the wind against the fallen leaves like a banshee wailing. Her mind syntonises with it finally as she picks up pieces of the shattered glass in front of her. There is no saying how much time the wind will continue to blow relentless. Her mind blows with the wind, flying high in the sky gathering momentum. At the same time her body continues to mechanically operate on its own. She carefully stacks the pieces of shattered glass in front of her and starts her daily work of repairing the window pane again.
She must have repaired it a hundred times yet every sunrise, the storm strikes at the same place again with the tree breaking through the window instantly killing her husband yet another time. Every day she wakes up again with the agony of knowing that she will again witness the scene of her husband’s death. The torture of knowing that initially numbed by the pain of his horrific death all she will be able to do is pick up the pieces of the shattered glass and start repairing the window as if to negate that it happened at all pursues her daily. She lives dreading the moment of initial sunshine which once made both her husband and her so happy.
She realises that she will never be able to grieve the loss of her husband as by the time she has finished repairing the window it is night time again and she falls asleep, exhausted. The first days that it happens, she does not remember exactly what has occurred but is only left with a sense of foreboding. Upon waking up that sense of foreboding slowly grows throughout the first week although it remains quite hazy. As time goes by , however, memories of the day before play back with excruciating precision.
She usually wakes up already knowing what will happen and totally helpless as she watches the events unfold. All she can do is repair the window in a wild and desperate hope that the next time, maybe at least once, it will not give way as the tree comes crashing through. Some days she would work her fingers sore until the nails almost peel and her fingers bleed and yet the next morning she would wake up to perfectly manicured fingers, her stomach tense with the knowledge of the oncoming onslaught.
Her mind soars higher as her fingers work swiftly repairing the window pane. She feels the moment when the night descends softly around her body that falls back on the bed. She watches as she lies almost lifeless her breath ragged as she struggles to overcome the sleepiness. Yet the slumber slowly overcomes her and her breath becomes more peaceful. It is the darkest point of the night now. Soon the killer dawn will strike again. She watches the body of her husband turn around and embrace her body.
Something inside her chest expands and she feels it stirring her body as she looks onward. The sun is about to rise and the winds are still howling. Her mind continues its wild jig with the winds. She knows that as the sun rises the storm will pick up strength and the tree will fall over breaking through the window pane. Her mind stills itself as the winds continue howling. The first rays of the sun pierce the horizon.
She opens wide her mouth and as it slowly rises she finally swallows the sun and the storm slowly loses its strength. Darkness falls all around as heat scorches her mind. She can feel the light exploding throughout her skull. She clenches her jaws as her mind maintains its stranglehold on the sun. The tree never moves again. She rolls her tongue softly over the blisters on her tongue. In the darkness beside her she can hear the soft breath of her husband. She utters a soft sigh and turns toward him holding him tight.
She looked at the Mother squarely and could see that there was something the Mother wanted to say but was refraining from saying it. Softly she told the Mother that she had decided to bring the rains upon the land once again. The Mother told her that she was aware of it as this had already embodied into rain in the future that the Mother could see. She turned and looked at herself in the mirror and then turned back to the Mother again. She told her that she had hesitated a lot but then decided to do so because there were so many people who could be adversely affected by the growing heat if she let things go as they had started off with the fires of the phoenix. The Mother merely smiled at her.
She turned back again from the Mother and like in a self confession she whispered almost to herself that she had decided to use the techniques of the shamans of old. She knew from the Mother that first came the word that was used to invoke the right frame of Magic for the intent to manifest. She had therefore decided that she would use a couple of poems for the transition from the drought-like state to a state of rainy weather. She knew that the world of the physical had its own rules so it would not be possible to go straight from one to the other and therefore decided that she would first gather some white clouds and then darken them in order to bring the rain upon the land.
As instructed in earlier stages by the Mother she first released the worded embodiment of the manifestation she wished to create into the collective consciousness and then sought to manifest it by entering into a meditative state using the music that the Mother indicated to her as appropriate. The first step of gathering the clouds was successful and she looked happily at the fluffy white clouds in the sky that had only minutes earlier been blue and free of any type of clouds. As the clouds gathered in the sky, she smiled to herself thinking that this was indeed a step in the good direction.
She waited a couple of days for the situation to stabilise and then released the worded embodiment of a storm into the collective consciousness. This last wording however was released into a smaller number of individual components of the collective consciousness and she could therefore feel that it would be less successful. She decided nevertheless to pursue the intention of causing rain to fall upon the land and armed with her headphones and her mobile, she sat in the park where she could connect directly to Gaia. Once the headphones secured on her head, she started breathing slowly and regularly and drifted into the meditation.
The drums of thunder that accompanied the music of the flute lulled her to sleep and she felt herself sink slowly into an altered state of consciousness. As with each time she entered such a state she could see ravens all around her and hear them cawing to her. The ravens pointed to the middle of the sky where an eye revealed itself before tears started flowing from it. She realised that the tears were flowing in the form of rain and she could hear the sound of the thunderstorm in the music accompany aptly the sound of the falling rain. She opened her eyes and could see the rain falling from a dark brooding sky all around her onto the landscaped gardens of the park. She looked around her pleased with this achievement and smiled.