Asamee Blog

My bridegroom beckoned,
He has informed me of what to wear.
Feathers and beads like veils within my hair.
“Prepare a cape of woolen brown,” says he.
“Warm suede boots to touch the ground.
Have a ritual with Storm.

Your bridegroom awaits you.”

And he spoke of where he would find me.
Beside crystal flowing streams.
Where stone and water meet.
And little fish dance,
Upon our feet.

“Travel by mule over rocky glen, said he,
To find the way within.
Ride with wolf, hawk and bear.
Polar Bear White, she is the mother,
In the cold dark night.
Hawk, he is the one who sees far.
Wolf why, he is your brother.

Prepare three weeks, cleanse with fruit and labor.
The time will come to go,
Three days on sturdy mules, beside moss, riding with kin.
Pausing near flowing sparkling water,
In person,
Crystal aspersion
With no stains.


It is there we will meet again.

Feathers will drift in, from near and far.
They will speak of who you really are.
Gold, bronze, black, brown,
And white.
Look for them, you will see them.
They each hold a piece of the vision.

Wear your hair like in a crown,
The music of the earth will guide you,
The air of the portals sustain you


The path will be laid out, prepare and follow.”
And then he whisperd back to me before he temporarily parted.
“Whatever you do, don’t start Thinking,
That you are dreaming.
Thinking isn’t Real.
Feeling is.

I will wait for you there.”


Copyright © 2004, by Trendle Ellwood. All Rights Reserved.

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