Through the tree?

Saturday November 10-, 2007:

Carolyn Hillier’s dreamy music mingled with the incense and the drifting muslin of the veil through which we moved to enter the main room of the temple. I arranged myself on a sheepskin, leaning against the wall and allowed the ambience of the place to sink in.

Nearby, a small child whispered with it’s mother and another infant suckled contentedly. Beyond the veil, voices whispered explanations and instructions. Outside, the hubbub of the Glastonbury Experience and the customers of the Blue Note Café came to me in a fluctuating wave of disconcerting babble. I breathed deeply the incense and let myself float away on Carolyn’s voice.

I was a baby, suckling needily, desperately hungry. Small and vulnerable, I clutched the warm breast, lest I be torn from it.

I was the mother of the babe, tenderly cradling her, feeling her need with a fierce and protective love.

She was an adult, a wild and demanding lover, body pressed close, hungry lips seeking mine, drinking me in.

Old beyond old now, she breathed her last breath, her body frail and brittle. Tenderly, I closed her eyes.

All was still, all was dark. The earth cradled me and I was rocked to sleep for the last time.

Alone now, I walked on the grassy hill. In front of me, an old tree, three trunks growing from a bulbous root stood waiting, the sky beyond it blue and inviting. Kneeling before it, I gave thanks for it’s beauty before climbing through.

“Where do I go from here”, I thought to myself as I stretched and shifted. “What awaits me in the land through the tree?”

This pilgrimage is ended, but I move forward in the world beyond the tree. Blackbird Owl will sing again, but that is all I know right now.

I got up and crawled over to the alter to light a candle, sending my prayer on the tip of a flame to be transformed, as I have been transformed through this journey.

Blessings to all who have read this blog.

Blackbird Owl