write with the light

this morning i gave birth to knowledge of the spirit of myself
after i was guided to lie down     while in vision
while praying for what i am to do next in this life
a ball of purple-red-orange light inside my pelvis
easily slid through the birth canal and i held up my future:
inside a very old large white skull which i held up in my two hands
i saw a living light --millions of tiny particles of white



















and i honored the spirit light of the ancestor/myself
i saw myself rise up through the roof of this house and look down on it
then fly amazingly fast southeast and i saw a gray pyramid
surrounded by beautiful green with Lynx on the pinnacle
there was pink all around her
then i flew over more emerald green vegetation farther south,
i saw the spirit of Goat in my belly
and the words-given to me in a poem a year and a half ago--
“the path is possible through you”

The next morning’s meditation held for me more gifts:
A man with long black shiny hair and dark red skin in a long robe
was putting a hammered gold concave circular pieced necklace around my neck
as an honor. Then ahead to my right was a shaman, small with scraggly long
black/gray hair, thin shoulders and unusual eyes-they were bluish white and could
move in all directions independent of each other--
























he was a seer I knew he knew
forwards and backwards in time, and he knew of me.
He was sitting with his legs pulled up, knees upward,
and the robe was open towards the base of his body-
when I looked in, all there was, was blackness-a deep blackness.
I asked him if he had knowledge for me of what my next steps were.
The image of corn and then a recipe started coming into my head.
I asked him why a recipe--
and it occurred to me to ask if he wanted me to cook for him.
He immediately started laughing and rocking back and forth
and shook his head yes.
So I agreed and then did cook the
corn and green chili turnovers with roast red
pepper sauce for him that night. When I made the dough it was like a small lightning
bolt shot through my hands into it. When I washed the cilantro
a series of images flew quickly through my head of
outdoors with colorfully dressed people and green plants.
I made a plate for him, and also ate some myself. I felt surrounded by a magical,
playful energy which made me smile very much.
I write this book with that same spirit. With thanks.


Nest Page ~ Pachamama (Mother Earth) Song