Last night, a spiraled light
it caught and submerged me--
carrying far off
all my fears.
My drum-pulsed heart was flying.
I rose and weaved my airy way
among jagged mountain rock--
my path opening, opening
until a high-arched gate appeared,
laced with colored flags
and I moved through it and beyond.
In a while I saw among distant shadows of villagers
and wisps of smoke a child there, sitting,
her back to me.
Are you my teacher?
Yes, she said, though not with words.
What do you have to teach me?
Be simple.
Jul 14, 2018
Jul 14, 2018 at 6:44 AM UTC
Last night, a spiraled light
it caught and submerged me--
carrying far off
all my fears.
My drum-pulsed heart was flying.
I rose and weaved my airy way
among jagged mountain rock--
my path opening, opening
until a high-arched gate appeared,
laced with colored flags
and I moved through it and beyond.
In a while I saw among distant shadows of villagers
and wisps of smoke a child there, sitting,
her back to me.
Are you my teacher?
Yes, she said, though not with words.
What do you have to teach me?
Be simple.
this is a generalization account of an "upper world journey" I took the night before. this is what happened. shamanic journeying with a drum pulse as "vehicle" is a technology. Seek out a highly trained practioner as a guide...if you wish to travel. Anyone who studied with Michael Harner (now transitioned) is a ringer! I am not permitted to be a guide for others.
