The Spirit of Gossamer Wings
djbeaulieu
They float like dandelion puffs wisping through the sunlight air. Oh so beautiful, so powerful, so intense are these miracles of color and design. The wings that hold them aloft belong to one of the loveliest and most fragile of God’s creatures, even more fragile than a Tolkien fairy. Ah, but its spirit is beyond reproach in the caverns of the “universal matrix of man’s consciousness.”(djb) Perhaps, its predominance is even as powerful as the angels. Oh! Did you notice how gently it holds the human soul in unison with its psyche or how tender it couches our dreams into the cocoon of transformation? And, it is there, in the gentleness of sleep or the torment of a nightmare that it evolves trying to seek its pure potential. Like the wisdom of the great “Pa Kua” it katas through our mind until it is lifted into the air on the tender gossamer wings of a pretty Blue Morpho. The karma waits, abjectly silent, for an illusion to materialize in the abstractness of a single thought, or to float away on the diffracted powder of the Morpho’s wings in hopes that it will return another day.
But, if we are lucky, we get to weave a dream that resides in our psyche, one that we found in the prophetic pillow of the mind. And, as we dream it we must let the butterflies of our mind rush to meet the angels who have protected us throughout this day. And, so it is that their katas refine and enlighten. The angels are the guides that point us to our strength and protect us while we sleep. However, it is in the spirit of the butterfly and in the gentleness of its metamorphosis that pure love and its power come to expresses itself. And, we, like them, will find our metamorphosis which will allow us to scream or to float through the purest of dreams as we glide to the top of our visionary intuitiveness as our heart explodes with joy and our mind transcends it all. Oh! What we have felt in one glorious moment of pure unadulterated power, that sensual explosion that materialized so deep in the mind and then every so softly and gently filled the sarcophagus in which it lies. Yes, for that outlandish moment we are one with each other, our spirits; our God as our dreams diffuse across the great “universal matrix of consciousness.”(djb)
The gossamer wings then entwined, fill our minds and tenderly touch us with the power of pure color and thought and as the tongue speaks the unthinkable lust of the moment in the words: I love you, I need you; I care. Then the gentleness of that gorgeous moment drifts into the peacefulness of a brook that spills into the oceans, so indigo blue; so crystal clear -- in an instant it is lost in its own beauty. How grand, that “universal matrix of man” for lost it is not. It will be given back, or get passed on to another more ready, more able, more in tune, more passionate, more fully intimate.
You and your beauty are way beyond the gossamer wings of my butterfly creation and equal to God’s angels. I ask no questions; I pass no judgment -- I’ll simply open my heart, my mind, my spirit and welcome you in to my intimate being.
(Extracted/paraphrased form the “Universal Matrix of Man,” a work in progresses, by Dream Weaver aka, me).
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in any form without written permission from the author. Printed by Author’s Den 2007
