Bushbabies and Bananas

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...

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!