Awake

There is no secret in the world that cannot be discovered if the recipient is ready to listen to it, since the very Air itself carries memory and knowledge." - Robert Cochrane

‘Awake’!

A voice calls in from the velvety depths of the hours of darkness pulling me out of the oneric realms where the world makes sense.

‘Awake’!

Once more I am being torn from the beautiful warmth of my lover.

‘Awake’!

The Lady is calling and demands me to watch her bathe in the dew as the Light rises in the eastern sky .

As I sit alone in the darkness of the kitchen gently rocked by the humming purr of the cat my senses are wakening one by one by the odorific familiarity of my daily caffeinated delight.  I cannot help but reflect on the glimpses of last night …one by one they walked through the door, the friend, the wife, the joker, the fisherman, the butcher, the blacksmith, the painter, the dog lover and man hater..All to sit in their respective corners or places in the warmth of the Queen Bee’s den. What brings them all here …the beer and the sweet influence it has on their moods …certainly...or maybe it is the calling of family, this nagging desire to connect, to talk, to feel the embrace and warmth of her bosom. The landlady is charming and her smile is soft, behind her eyes, only seen by those who really know how to Look, sadness resides of a life sacrificed for others and that her bed shall remain cold and empty of the warmth of a loved one; nevertheless she does her duty well and feeds her children the ambrosia which will bring them the sleep, the forgetfulness they desire. As the conversation enflames I suddenly find myself floating above the crowd...oh here we go again...I just drift off from the soft embrace of the communal joviality to heed a familiar voice …’remember where you come from’ she whispers …I do not know the answer to this, French by blood, Irish by heart I always felt apart, aside from my peers, a wanderer who craves for Home and who is still searching. This land has tried to claim me, sovereignty reigns high in this parts and her grip is firm. She called me 20 years ago and I came, IN FATE  I was, and I recognised the pattern of wyrd to follow, however the winds whisper and sometimes howl  of an-Other, a calling  felt on a cellular level…as my brothers and sisters of the Arte  rejoice in the circular dance and the seasonal tides and changes, my eyes, my gaze, my core, my blood spirals to the stars …another attempt to recover the keys to unlock my soul to a deeper understanding of itself... A lone pilgrim I have become preferring the company of the winds over the opiatic reassurance of those who brought joy but also distraction to the work …

‘Are you aright love?’

The sad eyes and the gentle smile brought me back to the teasing company of my chosen family and friends; I shall come back to the Dance and enjoy Creation engendered BY and THROUGH life … always mindful of a part of me that listens to the winds howling outside inviting me to the depths of the wintery darkness

‘I am waiting’ He murmurs …

In Fate I am

fff

Isabelle

“May your trails be crooked, winding, lonesome, dangerous, leading to the most amazing view. May your mountains rise into and above the clouds.”

Edward Abbey