Thursday, October 26, 2006
Another sacred place inside my Rivendell....
Far within
the depths of the forest,
were the sounds of
violins.
the very angels of heaven
were among
the trees.
Soothingly,
the music would immediately
draw ones soul
into a spirit
of solitude.
Draping.................
over that solitude
was reflective movement.
A swaying ..........
in synchronization
........like the very
wind itself;
where a slow sifting
wind moved among leaves of the trees.
Beckoning ...to her soul,
was intense emotion.
down the trunk
herself into the cove
of the long,
thick strong surfacing
roots.
of the very delicate spiritual sounds
amidst her.
the sacred
was intense emotion.
She
down the trunk
of a large tree, slowly sitting
herself into the cove
of the long,
thick strong surfacing
roots.
her shoulder.
Just enough to mingle
a bit with the bark of
the tall trunk.
a bit with the bark of
the tall trunk.
Looking up in reflection,
she remembered her sadness
when she was just a
she remembered her sadness
when she was just a
little girl....
her eyes gracefully closed at the
tranquil violins floating
over the breeze.
over the breeze.
Holding in deep thought,
of the very delicate spiritual sounds
amidst her.
The silence.......
within her....................
lingered.
lingered.
There was healing
surrounding it.
surrounding it.
She held that healing,
closely.
as she began to sense The Spirit
that lived within her.
that lived within her.
Like a woven silk flower, the presence
of the Holy Spirit opens her
spirit
of the Holy Spirit opens her
spirit
slowly to angelic
sounds moving among her.
Violins, oboes, and voices
of sweet nectar
of sweet nectar
webbing
a silken healing
gently, loosely, one silky strand at a time,
yet in such a way that she
was enveloped
was enveloped
completely.
This became her solitary place of refuge....
for at least
in that solitary place,
she felt untouchable
to such
further
tormenting.
Over time
she began to understand
she began to understand
more clearly,
the intriguing way
the intriguing way
the silken web
would envelope
her.
would envelope
her.
Her voice stayed still...
where she used to be able to sing in
a way of deep healing.
These angelic voices, and strings on the violins,
were the very strands, one by one,
strength inside
her voice.
That which she
otherwise would have expressed,
herself, was being sung over
her, expressing that which was
unexpressable.
This is where the tears of
cleansing
begin.
Where they began,
to drip ever so slightly,
little by little......until
they flooded forth
with powerful release.
The voices, and strings
came even closer once the tears began to
flow.
It was as though a new song,
in both
It was as though a new song,
in both
harmony of sound, but in unison
of meaning and healing,
intertwined together in a
sacred dance.
A dance for the first time since
since she lived in the
forest.
forest.
She began to embrace.......
embrace the sounds
of healing voices
like in a hot tub
soaking in everything.
of healing voices
like in a hot tub
soaking in everything.
She comes often....
to this place, now.
Where in fact, no one has ever
really seen her go.
Where even when she
attempts to share,
she stops, knowing
too few, can understand.
too few, can understand.
And this song
heard in that moment
still makes her speechless.
heard in that moment
still makes her speechless.
When she cannot
be among the trees that
be among the trees that
shelter her in this
forrest of life......
she finds it in
her soul......again,
her soul......again,
where few
can go with her.
She's worn a place in the ground of
her heart........
where she's lingered for long, moments
at a time.
And it's with this ever risking of
getting alone
with the Holy Spirit... The Spirit
inside her,
the sacred
finds her...
weeping a healing
that is replaced slowly,
with a dripping joy.
EmbraceTheDance
Publishing
copywrite 2006
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