Dreamwalker

Contemporary Microfiction

It was the thunder that caught his attention that day. He was sitting on the 32^nd floor, of the company’s office building in Manhattan, in a board meeting, watching the storm lashing at the ceiling to floor windows. But when the thunder shook the building it got everyone’s attention.

The CEO stopped his presentation, they all looked, momentarily concerned, and then they started the meeting again. The storm was only mildly interesting to them, a temporary interruption. James Dreamwalker thought about it differently though.

This storm was an affirmation. As he listened now to the company president, talk about the numbers, the strength of the company, the exploding market in Singapore, it all became background noise to the much more important event going on outside. He was having yet another vision. In the vision, he was dancing at an event, with his cousins, his feet were pounding, his heart beating with the drums, his body moving, as he felt the presence of the Creator. He continued to see in the vision, people moving, colors in a blur, and for some reason a horse. He was riding bareback, in a place with red rocks. It was all moving and spinning, but he could see the horse sweat. The horse was pounding away, flying over the ground at top speed. It took his breath away.

The vision ended with his mother’s voice in what appeared to be a cave, with smoke. Was she in the afterlife? He could not see her, but there was a light, and she repeated what she had said, seconds before she died, “You were not made, to chase after money”. He stood up now, in the middle of the board meeting, and walked towards the ceiling to floor windows. With his face against the glass, he could hear the wind howling. It was saying to him, to get out of there, and to not come back. It all confirmed what he had been sensing for weeks. He was to go back to his people.

“Standing Bear”, he said out loud. The board members stopped talking, and turned to him. “James?” “What are you talking about?”, one of them asked. James, turned to the group of men, now realizing what he had said. He went with it anyway. “I need to talk to Joseph Standing Bear”, he said. “Excuse me”, he mumbled as he left the room.

As he left the group of men (there were no women) they mumbled about James’ mother passing away recently, and he was taking it badly. Then the president of the company began quoting numbers again, and the meeting recommenced, with the strength of the company in Hong Kong, and Taipei.

In the elevator, James Dreamwalker pushed the down button, realizing he wouldn’t be seeing this place again.

Note: To be continued tomorrow!

 

  Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

Return

When I return to the mountains,

wholeness returns to me,

the windows of my soul,

can be opened, curtains,

pushed aside,

clouds dispersed, by the wind,

His breath of life.

I don’t even need my recurve bow,

or an Appaloosa,

all I need is my heart,

and two feet to carry me,

far above the clouds,

walking,

getting the big picture,

once again, truth happening.

The reality of deer,

shuffling quietly, the owl,

says, “Who?”

“Who is near to you?”

an eagle soaring, close by,

giving me his wings,

of strength,

infusing,

receiving the muscles of faith,

I walk it out,

as the seasons pass by,

in an instant, a cardinal sings,

a love song I remember,

reminding me, of My Love,

so as I sit on a rock, surrounded,

by the pine trees, I realize,

there is more to life,

than contemplation.

I will return to the mountains,

again,

but in the meantime,

in the valley,

I will let the creation,

flow through me,

and inspire me,

like wild horses running.

Thanks God.

 Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

Contemplation

Closing my eyes to see,

there is more,

watching my breathing,

listening,

remembering the oneness,

of silence,

aloneness of light,

serenity though, dividing me,

a double edge, two at once,

of seeker and writer,

seeing, feeling, writing,

write it down.

Is it always this way?

Peaceful paintings,

an eagle glides,

through my mind,

paintbrushes,

a vision,

a stream waiting,

a mountain calling.

Sun.

Am I alone again?

And then He said,

“My son,”

“…you are never alone”

 

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

Weeping Fire

The earth had been grieving for centuries,

it was not just one thing,

that caused the fire,

it was everything,

combined.

Slavery,

of Africans, of children,

oppression,

of the poor, of women,

the extermination,

of culture, of people,

the earth,

was broken hearted,

and grieving,

deeply,

volcanoes sobbed,

and erupted,

with grief, all over the world,

the earth could not hold back,

any longer,

brokenness was felt,

from China,

to Canada,

pieces of earth,

fell,

and the grieving fire spread,

unstoppable anguish,

the earth had lost too many,

of her children,

the fire burned for weeks,

it was not vengeance,

it was weeping,

and some did survive,

by jumping in water,

to start again,

this time without violence.

The earth had been grieving for centuries.

 Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Poetry © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

Journey to Broken Sky

Contemporary Microfiction

Note: The Appaloosa is a breed of horse in the US, Canada, and in other parts of the world. The Nakota, and Inuit, are First Nations people groups.

The Appaloosa had changed his life, he was certain of that. He had been driving for four days, and the horse had come to him in a dream, as he was sleeping, by the side of the road. It was the same spotted horse he had as a teenager, and it spoke to him in the dream, in his tribal language. He loved his first language, but he had not heard it in years. One thing was for sure – after the dream he had stopped thinking about going back home after the trip. It was as if there was something…….something he was supposed to do out here, in the middle of nowhere. His heart was filled with his first language now, and as he drove he sometimes spoke it out loud.

He had come to the Yukon to find the most remote place possible, and to hike. He was looking for something – but what? The Appaloosa, had told him he was on a journey, and that this journey was not over yet. He had “further to go”, in more ways than one. So he kept driving.

It was late afternoon when he pulled into Mapleton. It was a small town with one hotel. There was no one at the front desk, but there was a sign that said, “Check Yourself In.” Strange how small towns trusted people, he thought. Once he was in the room, he fell asleep quickly, on top of the bed. He had been driving for fourteen hours straight.

That night he dreamt of his parents, and growing up on the reservation. He was also riding his horse in the dream, galloping as fast as they could through miles of open fields. At one point he was riding with his arms out to the side, barely holding on with his legs, and in that moment of intense freedom, he heard the words, “Never forget who you are.” Whose voice was that? He could not tell. He also saw a school, he had never seen before. Children he did not know, were playing outside, and he began speaking to them in their language. Yet he had no idea what the language was!

When he woke up, or at least he thought he was awake, he saw his mother’s face. She spoke very clearly in Nakota, “Never forget who you are.” Then she repeated the words, in the Inuit language. His mother had been half Nakota, and half Inuit, and she had always encouraged him with these words as he was growing up, making him feel proud of his heritage.

He spent the day in Mapleton, walking around, getting to know the people. He was amazed at how friendly they were. Many were Inuit, or had some Inuit connection. At the restaurant an older couple at the next table struck up a conversation, asking him where he was from. When they asked him why he was in town, he said, “I have no idea.” They smiled.

After his meal, he got up to leave, when the older man he had been talking to, asked him a strange question. He said, “Do you need a job?” The man explained he had a lumber yard, not far from here, and he was looking for help. He stumbled with his words, and was not sure what to say, but he did turn down the job.

The couple had told him about a historical site he should visit, on the edge of town. He decided to walk there, and he loved feeling of the northern sun on his face. As he got closer, chill bumps ran through his body. Could it be??? He started running towards the building. It was! It was older now, and crumbling, but it was the same school – exactly the same school – he had dreamt about last night. Was that the sound of children playing? No one was there, but he thought he could hear them.

The name of the school had been, “The Broken Sky School”, and it had been closed in 1970. When he saw the writing engraved, over the top of the front door, he sank to his knees and began weeping. The words over the door said, “Never Forget Who You Are”. All he could say through the tears was, “Thanks Mom……..I won’t forget……” He covered his face with his hands.

Later that day, he drove out to the lumber yard, and took the job.

 

 

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Writing © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

images from google

First Nations Art and Music

The artwork is by Frank Howell, and is stunning. Music is by Mary Youngblood.

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Commentary © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

video from youtube

Reach for the Sky

When I watch this video I do reach for the sky. My heart sends up prayers, and I am refreshed. There is some beautiful living nature here, with the sounds of the water flowing. Nature does bring healing and peace. There is also the beautiful flute playing by Mary Youngblood accompanied by a piano. Enjoy and have a blessed day. Be at peace.

Blessings to everyone and PEACE!

Commentary © Copyright 2015, nicodemasplusthree

video from youtube