Who is Dreaming Me?

Who is dreaming me?

that I’m tossing around on this black raging Sea?

and I am journeying the Wastelands

instead of home safe and warm,

buffeted by gales and devoured by Storm,

travelling the inner ways under dark-shadowed Sky,

        Whose dream am I?

This notion of Fate being woven by the Three,

do we not have any say over our Destiny?

who is singing my so-called reality?

       Who is dreaming Me?

Are they objective, subjective, loving, stern?

is the pain and the suffering the lessons we must learn?

and who are the combatants of this war raging within?

        Am I an Angel or Original Sin?

March 2017

This quest to know Truth,

these glimmers that tease me,

through this Dark Night,

this Long Night,

       Who is dreaming Me?

For surely we are the dream and Source is the Dreamer,

We are the tapestry and Spirit is the Weaver,

We are the Smile She laughs when we play,

We are the Tears He cries when we stray,

And the Path home,

the long road that we all walk alone,

is the Quest of the Seeker

as we reap what we’ve sown

Thus Earth is the school and Life is the stage,

where we act out the Mystery through each passing Age,

when we’ve learnt all our lessons and passed all our tests,

tripped up and messed up, and given it our best,

        do we get to wake up and dream our own dream?

        perhaps answer the question 

            Who is dreaming me?

If the Sphinx is the image of the God at the time

represented by the Sun, 

and Heart spells Earth,

is it the Quest of the Grail to rebirth ourselves,

so our Souls can descend and the Lion-God return?

Thus the long road, the dark road,

upon which our Spirit is grown

is through the Heart of the Son (Sun) 

           when we love All as One!

Christine Jordaan 06 May 2016

© 2017

Credit:  Kriss Kringle

The Mirror

I look in the mirror and see…
a child with a gun
staring at me,
a body lying in the sand
killed by lies,
and swarming with dirty, black flies
and I know that part of me pulled the trigger;

I look in the mirror and see…
a starving dog bleeding in chains,
and my hand is still holding the stone
as I kneel in the dirt all alone;

I look in the mirror and see…
a woman bound, hurt, and enslaved,
and I know that I have the key
tucked away safely,
I could set her free;

I look in my mind and see
all the anger, the doubts, and the fears

I look in my heart and hear
the whispers of a million dreams,
secret hopes and unshed tears

I turn back to the mirror
and reach through the glass to the child,
I have to love him better to have a fairer world,
and I have to love him better
because he is me.

Christine Jordaan

05 May 2014

© 2017

WE NEED TO TAKE RESPONSIBILITY FOR THIS WORLD WE ARE CO-CREATING, WHETHER WE ARE DOING SO CONSCIOUSLY OR UNCONSCIOUSLY!