I am drawn to water. Really. Drawn. Every time I pass by a body of water I am mesmerized by its depth, its mystery, the ease with which it can be moved. Water flows with the wind, but left unpressed it can also stand still and be content with where it lands. Water can be a blanket to hide something and water will accept your tears and adopt them as its own. No questions asked. There is beauty in a body of water. It changes constantly and yet remains the same.
I once had someone tell me that my element was water, which was why I felt so at home in its company. Water, to me, has a dangerous power that is frightening and yet embodies a serene essence which is beautiful and un-duplicated. It speaks to me in untold stories and whispers as it moves along the rocks and makes glorious smooth glass from a broken bottle. It can carry a love letter, a huge vessel, the tiniest of leaves. Water treats everything it carries within it the same, no prejudice and no judgment. It captivates me, and I often find myself wandering there looking for answers as if it can speak a language I can hear and understand.
Abandoned building are another thing I am pulled by. It is quite odd for me when I think of it because actually I feel rather intimidated by them. I feel this somehow relates to growing up and spending so much time on my grandparent's farm. A quarter mile down the road from their house was an abandoned house that belonged to my great-grandparents that long stood empty. Vandalism had taken most of the windows out and much of the inside woodwork had been, unfortunately, stolen by people with little to no respect for others. The doors on the rooms had been taken down by my own grandfather for fear they would be stolen too. I would never go in there alone. Ever. Even if I went in with a family member or a friend it seemed I would hear a strange noise and get completely terrified of that unknown. It was a love/hate relationship. I was so drawn to that house and all the stories it could tell if only it could speak.
So, water and abandoned things. Two things I have recently discovered I am pulled by. I am still figuring out why, but I am beginning to see why I relate to this from my own explorations inside myself.
Recently I had a very odd and significant dream that involved a church, and a person from my family who is no longer living. I dreamed that I was in a church with my family and saw my aunt's mother there, only she was a spirit. Nobody else could see her but me and when she got close enough to me I reached out to see if I could grab her and I did. In a dream I can not ever remember a time when I grabbed ahold of someone so distinctly as I did in this dream I tell about. Oh for certain I know I have dreamed of a physical closeness that would involve levels of touch but none that I can remember as clearly as this time. I grabbed ahold of this spirit's hands and she grabbed mine back. It was the kind of tight clench where one holds on so tight as if in fear of the other person slipping away. We didn't speak in my dream.
I later told my aunt of my dream and she related to me that the day I had that dream was the anniversary of her mother's death. I didn't have any part of that on my mind that day. Though I have photos of this person, I do not have them sitting around where I would see them on a regular basis. A few days after that dream I stumbled upon this church in the middle of nowhere practically. Abandoned. And of course I was taken by it. The symbolism of church seems to be showing up often for me recently. Such has been the case for horses and fences. There have been some very distinct occurrences of these things in my life lately and I am paying attention. The symbolism of church, horse, and fence isn't necessarily as obvious as why you would think but it makes sense and it is really right along the track of where my thoughts are at this point. It is all very significant.
As I was walking around with my camera and looking at this church, a huge flock of birds cam from the top and circled around my head, 2 or 3 times I think. As I got closer to one window, a big single bird flew out from a broken portion and then later another bird flew from the same broken window piece and joined the rest in the sky. Symbols and signs everywhere. In every little thing....and I am listening. I am here. I am open.
And I am remembering words I tenderly wrote so many months ago that still hold just as much light and just as deep of love as they did when they came to life from within my own soul...
the longing
You peer out at me, an illuminated transparency of a memory borne unto myself from beneath a scattered invisible canopy of starving devotions and a silver pearl ribbon.
I dreamed of the rescuing promises dripped in amber honey and the swollen surge of wandering gaze, breath quivers, presumptuous touch and new found corridors of exclusive, circling skin.
It was time captured in an understanding, sun kissed white light. It was forgetting prevailing winds of distance and a lantern of riddles that elude clarity. It was a pregnant flood of unfolding heartbeats and strings that cannot be broken.
Carry me back to that forget-me-not earth where we can while away the hours under an avocado green twilight and the constant sadness of letting go. I will create a lone, dream-laden boat starving for three hundred half awake voyages and a pleading festival of kisses where we shall sail out into the ambrosia sunrise and drink in the light of dew dropped skin and a reflection of radiant togetherness.
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