Swan: 'Melissa'

he serenity in the snowy moonlit orchard felt complete, so much so that it was moments before I realized I was in a dream. Happily, my Crow was there and he seemed eager to lead me hop by hop, branch by branch, through the orchard. I tried not to disturb the silence, but once or twice I happened to kick some withered apples on the path (Rome Beauties, perhaps?).

We hadn't gone far when I began to see fleeting movement among the trees. I thought it mist at first, but when I stopped and focused on the movement I realized the 'mist' was a woman's filmy gown floating around her as she danced a winding path beneath the branches.

I heard neither birdsong nor human music accompanying her dance, only silence, sylvan silence. She appeared so ethereal I was surprised to see snow sift over her satin slippers when once she passed nearly close enough to touch. I resisted my urge to touch the hem of her rose-sprigged gown and followed my Crow out of the orchard and beyond, until he bade me climb upon his back. We flew.

We flew to a place that reminded me of "The Faraway Nearby" - majestic mountains, sovereign in the landscape. I saw a lake or pool lit by the moon, and I saw two parallel strips of light, almost like a landing strip in the mountains.

When we drew closer I saw that the lights were actually discarded pie tins affixed to sticks. I also saw that the landing strip was still under construction, so to speak, and that the 'technician' was the little girl who'd played music for the King of Faery, who'd fashioned wings for leprechauns in the labyrinth.

Too soon we landed and I had to walk on land once again. My Crow was hushed and watchful, as if awaiting someone or something. I waited with him. In the deepest darkness before dawn a magnificent swan flew in to land on the lake. The ripples of the swan's landing had barely ceased when, without warning, Cupid darted from a blind and shot a fatal arrow into the swan's heart.

She (the swan seemed to me to be female) struggled to reach us and collapsed, successful, at the Crow's feet. He ministered to her with sweet and exquisite care. When it was evident that she was gone he hopped a short distance away, then returned with a steel dagger fashioned as the letter 'J'. After he dropped the dagger into my lap he held up one of the swan's wings.

Horrified, I realized he wished me to cut off her wings, to mutilate that magnificent creature! I could not bring myself to do it - until I remembered that logic and cause and effect in dreams do not follow the rules of material life.

That is the only way to explain how I was then able to gird my shoulders with those wings and fly off with my Crow, dagger in hand. Only with a dreaming mind can I credit that the swan herself flew off with us.

Musings.3: Barbara

Who can tell what an experience it can be to try something so simple as walking in a circle?

The appearance of a labyrinth in "Melissa's" dream and its deepening importance reminded me of a story I read a couple of years ago about a labyrinth installed at a local church. After an internet search and a phone call I decided to take some time to see this design for myself, perhaps take some pictures. The only expectation I had was to take pictures. I had no idea what I would think or feel as I walked the labyrinth, if anything.

Standing barefoot at the entrance to the labyrinth I had the sensation, seriously, that I was looking at a representation of a womb and umbilical cord - perhaps walking the labyrinth is a representation of connection with the 'universal womb'? I also noted the thought that the design reminded me of a human brain, its corded texture repeatedly folding back on itself.

Then it seemed that my brain relaxed because I felt that I wanted to dance there in that silent hall and weave my way along the path. It was simply a feeling of buoyancy. Buoyancy. It is the only word that fits. I realize as I write this that I was so focused on the path, on savoring that buoyancy, that I wasn't even looking at the rose in the center. I was more interested in flowing into the next step!

When I arrived at the center I was happy to touch each 'petal' of the rose in turn and then retrace my steps back to the beginning. At some point in the return trip I stopped in my tracks at the thought of all the steps and breaths and moments caught up in that circle. Soon the image took hold in my mind of the path as representative of the ripples a heart can make in this world.

It is a creative path into and among the heart-mysteries there for us in that universal womb. It is a creative path back out into the world. It is a path ready and waiting whenever we may choose. I have every intention of returning to walk the labyrinth, but I have no idea what mystery or mysteries will open in my heart when I do. That is just the way I like it!

After my experience today I am especially curious to discover what sort of experience or experiences my character "Melissa" will have with the labyrinth. So far the design has provided entrance to the warehouse and, building on my discussion of it as a web of sorts in Musings.2:Barbara, it has provided the motivation to break away from the restraining mind games in her life. She's been pinned to the wall, so to speak, for a very long time.

"And I have known the eyes already, known them all -
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out the butt-ends of my days and ways?
And how should I presume?"

"The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock"
T. S. Eliot