frog as she sat contemplating ecological issues on the
shore of an unpolluted pond in a verdant meadow near
her castle. A frog hopped into the princess' lap and
said, "Elegant lady, I was once a handsome prince,
until an evil witch cast a spell upon me. One kiss
from you, however, and I will turn back into the
dapper, young prince that I am. Then my sweet, we can
marry and set up housekeeping in your castle with my
mother, where you can prepare my meals, clean my
clothes, bear my children, and forever feel grateful
and happy doing so." That night, as the princess
dined sumptuously on a repast of lightly sauted frog
legs, seasoned in white wine and onion cream sauce.
She chuckled to herself and thought: "I don't frigging
think so." Author unknown
The eagle said, "Give it to me, I will take it to the moon."
The Creator said,"No. One day they will go there and find it."
The salmon said,"I will bury it on the bottom of the ocean."
"No. They will go there too."
The buffalo said,"I will bury it on the Great Plains."
The Creator said, "They will cut into the skin of the Earth and find it even there."
Grandmother Mole, who lives in the breast of Mother Earth, and who has no physical eyes but sees with spiritual eyes, said, "Put it inside of them."
And the Creator said, "It is done."
Author unknown
It hadn't always been this way, and while Time had not taken his memories away, neither had it brought him understanding as to why the humans had come to fear the Celebrations, or why that fear had turned into hate. It was the memories of what that hate had done, could still DO, that kept the Elders in check.
"Mother!" he called out.
"I am here," she whispered. "Always."
"It's the Celebrations, Mother...they're beginning to grow stronger. We have felt the rise in Energy."
"Yes," she sighed, "The Circle is turning." and he felt her smile.
"But the fear remains strong!" he cried out.
"In most, yes..."
"Mother, while the Celebrations may be growing slightly stronger elsewhere, around here I can sense only fear."
"Ahhh, but answer me this, my child. Is it the fear OF Celebration that you sense, or is it the fear TO Celebrate?"
"I-well, that is..."
"The fear OF and TO have surrounded us for many years, and fear can do strange things to one's senses. Reach out and search deeply, then tell me what you find."
And so he did. It was hard at first, in an attempt to protect their beloved Celebrators, Time had run the two fears together, leaving them almost indistinguishable. Almost. After a time, he began to notice the differences, subtle at first though they became more apparant the deeper he probed.
He quickly called out to the brothers and sisters within his range and relayed his findings to both them and the Mother of All. "What should we do now? " "Should we try to communicate?" "But what of the other fear? Will it turn into hate if it senses our Energy?" The questions were endless, and while consern remained, their excitement grew.
"Please guide us, Mother!" they cried out in unison.
She sighed deeply from within, "Do you remember how it was before the great fear came?" she directed this question to the elders. " The dancing? The songs? The dedications? Back then, our Celebrations were paramount"
The Elders shared in her memories while the younger ones listened with longing.
"I too agree with your concerns for they are well justified, but still," she continued,"we must try. Some of them are seeking us out to begin the Celebrations again, we must be ready to greet them. Yes, try to communicate to them...but excersise caution as well, for while the fear of the other can only hide our exsistanse or twist our purpouse, it's effects can be more devistating to those humans who wish to join in our Celebration." The elders shuddered at this shared memory, and the excitement of the young was blanched at the thought...but recovered.
And so they set forth and branched out their awareness' to seek and greet those who searched. They called out softly to the seekers that passed by them, and while they could tell that many sensed them, their calls remained unanswered.
He could tell that the others, the ones who feared Celebration, could sense them also and he watched them closely.
"I don't know what it is, but there's something about that place that sets my hair on end!" He heard them say. But still, the seekers remained silent. Disturbed by this he again sought guidense.
"Mother, I don't understand! We have found the seekers and have called out to greet them, yet while I can sense they are aware of us they do not answer! Is it that they are to afraid?"
"No," she sighed sadly "while they are still afraid, that is not the reason for their silence. They have forgotten how to hear and how to communicate. While all can sense us, only 1 out of many thousands of Seekers can truely hear and understand." Then her tone became hopefull, "But they still seek! They want to hear! To understand and to Celebrate!"
Confused he asked, "but what good does it do them to WANT to understand when they CAN'T?"
She laughed at this and replied, "my child, while one will NEVER understand that which they choose to not WANT to understand, the ones that strive to understand will always find success. In short, you have to WANT to see before you will open your eyes."
With that said, she left him to contemplate this new information. In the weeks that followed, he continued his attempts to communicate. Then one day, his awareness sensed the presense of strong seeking and reached forth, in search of its sorce. It came to rest on a young couple sitting in the grass holding hands.
"Can you feel it?" he heard the young man ask his companion.
"Oh yes! The vibrations are strong here!" came her excited reply.
He probed the area surounding them to see if any of the fearful ones sensed their presense. He found them but sensed they were unaware so he called out a little louder to the young couple on the grass.
"It's getting stronger!" The young woman exclaimed.
"Yes...it's time" and they began to sing softly, rythmicly. He remembered the song and joined in their Celebration. After they had finished, he called out to them again to thank them for the great joy they had shared with he and those surrounding them. But still, they could not hear and sadly he watched as they walked away. He was just about to call out to the Mother of All when suddenly he noticed a small child standing not far away. She was staring intensly at him. "Did this child seek or fear" he wondered, and he reached forth gently to see. Lightly he played his awareness over her, probing to see when all of a sudden, she laughed! "That tickles!"she giggled. Startled, he watched as she began to dance all around him, singing a song he had never heard before yet was compelled to join. His leaves whispered in rythme to this new song and when she finished singing she surprized him once again when this time she ran to him and threw her arms around his massive trunk and...hugged him!
"This child is so young, yet her awareness is stronger than any I have encountered in the past!" he joyfully thought allowed. "She might be able to hear me someday!" To his further amazement he saw her wink at him then declare "I already can!"
The Beginning!
Rebecca Jo Porter
copyright 3/00
not knowing what to do
Watching the flag being lowered to half-staff in a parking lot
sitting in my car listening to the news
My watering eye
a small tribute to the brave souls we lost
A hopeful heart
We must keep reaching no matter what the cost
Their shiny halos
Vapor trails in the air
We're still learning how to fly
Going where only the brave dare
Heros to us all
We need more like this
To send out and explore
Or it's our humanity we'll miss
In memory of the fallen Astronauts
Jason R. Davis
Remembered in word or song, often praised through rhyme.
They die living free, always doing what they love.
Whether on the ground and moving forward, or floating with grace high above.
They are no longer with us, yet they live on inside.
Not with our eyes do we look upon them, but in our hearts
and our memories is where they'll always reside.
They knew the consequences, yet they continued on.
We can never forget what they mean to us, or else they'll truely be gone.
In memory of the Astronauts, past and present, lost...but not forgotten.
Jason R. Davis
a short story of astral projection
by Jason R. Davis
