Poetry Competition

Today I received notification that one of my poems is to be included in a hard back compilation, entitled "Immortal Voices," some what ironic with all the journeys I've been recalling of late.

I don't know if it's a bit of a con, to get you to buy the book, but I'm chuffed just the same. I'm also listed as a semi-finalist in the competition that they're running, so I have my fingers crossed for the huge cash prize!

Baby and the Snake

I can only have been about seven or eight when I had this dream but I can remember the physical sensations as though it was yesterday.

In the dream there was a snake trapped in the divan base of my bed... as I lay there I could feel the snake moving, exploring, searching for a route out... I waited, breath baited. To my extreme surprise and horror I felt the snake slam hard into my lower back, throwing me into the air, as though forcing it's way up through the mattress.

Afterwards my back felt sore, bruised and tender and I was conscious of where I'd been hit. Just recalling the memory triggers the feelings it created, though bizarrely there isn't any fear.


The Snake is an archetypal symbol of resurrection and rebirth, the epitome of transformation and the cycle of life. It embodies the transition, of shedding the old, rebirth. During this process the eyes of the snake appear to cloud over as though in trance, implying the ability to move between the realms of the living and the dead. It reflects the possibility of opening to these abilities and awakening contact with Spirit. Snake teaches us to trust in our instincts, the vibrations that we feel from those around us. It symbolises change and healing, the release of fear and reminds us that in resisting we create a state of limbo.

Wild Mother Lightning?

I was eight or nine the first time I was struck by lightning...

My Dad and I were down the field collecting a dead Ewe in the pick-up.The sky was grey and somber, the clouds engorged with rain. We'd just put the sheep in the back, as the skies opened and the rain came thundering down. "Jump out then Nat's," my father said as we pulled up before the gate and he nosed the truck further under the trees...

Boom!!

The wretched stench of sulphur engulfed me as light exploded before my eyes. I was lucky it wasn't a direct hit. Even so the force was enough to lift me three foot in the air and slam me five foot backwards into the side of the truck.

I was stunned...

My Dad made little of it at the time, trying to keep things calm as the storm raged around us. He later admitted that he'd never been so close, or quite so scared.

Some time later, around puberty, I noticed that when I was angry the clouds would start to gather and during times of sorrow, the skies would share my grief. I passed this of as a fluky coincidence, a strange or quirky thing. Another ten years came and went and while the weather matched my moods, the seasons drifted by. At twenty eight or there abouts, I experienced a Shamanic awakening during which my body twitched as it went through a series of convulsions. I felt as though I'd been hit again...

I didn't have much joy with light bulbs after that and Tesco's returns team got mighty sick of me, as I systematically blew up all my electrical goods. The engineers at B.T. renamed my home Thunder Road during the four years of my residence; damage causing lightning strikes increased at least threefold, they were out to me five times in just one week. I still have problems with the stereo, give people electric shocks and set off car alarms just by walking by but I can live with that, for now.

I only became aware that I might have some element of control over it when I fell out with my man... We weren't living together at the time and we'd had a blazing row.

I was enraged!!!

I picked up my drum and began to play, faster and faster, the beater drove me on, as my arms grew stiff and heavy and my motions just a blur. My intention was to release the tension, the energy build up inside, to let go of my fury and my pain. The drum thundered on, carrying me with it, swept up in my rage and my wrath...

Suddenly it stopped, the pent up feeling was gone...

Silence...

Peace...

I text my partner and told him I felt better, that I was calm now, "...could we talk?" He rang me laughing, "just before you text me, a huge thunderbolt hit the empty house across the road, the power's down for five blocks in each direction! I'm glad that you feel better though," he told me with great glee. I was horrified, thunderstruck; had I done it or was it just another fluke and what would have happened if, God forbid, my aim had been much better? It really had me worried.

I learnt to control my temper...(ish)...

The next time I was hit was a year or so later, I was driving up to school to collect Zach...

I could feel it in the air, it had rumbled on all day and I forced myself to get behind the wheel. I kept reminding myself that the car has rubber tires but it wouldn't stop the churning of my gut. As I pulled into the last turning, some excruciating four minutes later, I began to heave a sigh of relief...

...to soon...

Crash! Bang!

The lightning exploded beside me as I turned the final bend. I saw the air crackle and caught the toxic fumes, as the car tilted up onto two wheels. I leaned into the corner and tried to shift my weight, I felt the car recover with relief. It scared the life out of me.

A Shaman once told me that the third hit will come with my final awakening, I can't say that I'm looking forward to that day...although she says that lightning will not harm me...

I am searching for information, or anyone who has any experience of what it means to be a "Lightning Weaver" or a "Follower of the Lightning Path." These are the only Shamanic references that I have for what has occurred but I cannot find any details in print. I'd really like some insight if it's out there.

Zach and the Lion

He awoke crying, distressed and confused. Running from room to room, it was clear that he was unaware of where he was or mine and my partners presence. "No, no...I can't, I can't," he moaned and sobbed, shaking with fear. When he finally came back to us, he told us what he saw...

He was in a shop, buying some sweets and things for the weekend. Some other boys which he didn't know were also there, but, "the things they were buying were weird," and he chuckles with amusement in the telling. With glee he describes how a man walked into the store and started to buy, "everything thats there," piling his basket high with goods; it is clear from his expression that this pleases him. Suddenly a huge Lion enters and begins to chase those within, in particular it chases Zach, both his terror and tears are real. "I can't get away," he tells me, "I'm running and running but I just cant...I can't..."

The Lion is Zach's birth Totem, revealed to me before I even knew that I carried him, and in his creation I sacrificed my freedom, the horse.

The Lion has long been symbolised as both strength and the sun; the patience we require as we reach towards our personal pots of gold. It suggests the need for cooperation and a gentle approach; although strong, brute force is not always neccesary, is the message of this Totem. They avoid confrontation but will not back down if forced to defend themselves and suggest the need to integrate the feminine within. The beast may be tamed by the gentle strength of love. It is a symbol of new birth and of power emerging, that of creative experession, intuition and the imagination. If these gifts are use then this power will grow.
In reverse the Lion offers an implication of pride, being to rigid, to inflexible, willful or domineering, creating problems within life. Goals cannot be accomplished in this way. This Totem tells us not to lose our nerve or to surrender, to roar if we feel threatened and defend the path we walk.

For Zach it's a case of walking a fine line, he wants to be king of the jungle but his youth holds him back. He is fearful of his own power and tries to use control dramas to compensate. Since entering the age of reason, at seven, has moved away from creative and imaginative pursuits; he is no longer bound to his Mother's side and is developing more masculine traits. The dream implies that he is not afraid to stand alone and that it is male company which he seeks; despite the fact that they may seem strange or weird to him at times, he appears to revel in the unusual. He is without doubt able to stand his ground, if he is willing to confront his fears and utilise the power which he currently holds within.

Medicine Man

I have been one of those unfortunate women who has suffered from recurrent miscarriage. Some ten years ago now after the loss of my sixth child, the medical profession finally began some investigations. They ran blood tests for illnesses, infections and DNA based hereditary conditions...they found nothing. The unborn child, a boy, was sent to the lab for dissection, he was perfect...they could not help me.

One doctor suggested that I may be suffering from a condition called P.C.O.S. which causes small cysts to develop on the ovaries, blocking the follicles from which the eggs are released and referred me for a new procedure under experimental trial at the time. It seemed drastic to me even then, they wanted to remove a third of each ovary, forcing new growth to occur which they hoped would prove cyst free... there were no guarantees.

I later found that this treatment was recommended for women who had never produced eggs and didn't therefore have an ovulation cycle or period during which to conceive. I had demonstrated no difficulties in this area. I had already tried various healers, spiritualists, psychics and clairvoyants, to no avail and so I patiently waited for my operation date to arrive.

It was late Autumn, the leaves had already lost their golden glow and fallen, creating a thick mulch covering the land. Winter's chill had begun to creep into my bones and on the long walk home that evening I promised myself a long soak in the bath. I lay in the warm cocoon of the bath tub, allowing my mind to wander and drift, following the steam with my gaze as it wafted upwards in moist warm clouds. My focus was drawn to my right the steam there was not moving, it seemed to be settling and growing thicker, I held my breath as a shape began to emerge. Standing beside me was a six foot, powerfully built Medicine Man in full ceremonial dress, "give me your womb," he demanded, his voice reverberating around the small room. Stunned I nodded, unable to question or think...I began to tremble and a wave rushed through my body, forcing my muscles to spasm and contract. The sensation was similar to that of an orgasm, though definitely not as pleasurable.

The Medicine Man was gone.

Some days later he appeared within a dream...he took me to visit the children I had lost, to see them in Spirit and see how they had grown. I felt a sense of peace settle around me and awoke feeling tranquil and at one. As I left home that morning a spiral of leaves began to swirl and rise before me, "it's time to let them go," the Medicine Man's voice echoed on the wind. I felt a strange sensation, as though I was lifted, held. I felt safe, forgiven, accepted, I felt loved. I watched the leaves rise higher until I could see them no more, my sense of loss was gone. Later in another dream I watched as my power animal, a horse which I had been working with, was attacked and killed by a huge lion, at the time I didn't understand what this meant.

Two months later I was pregnant again, to mine and my partner's surprise...my surgery date had been set and doctors were baffled when I refused. Yes the operation would mean losing the child but my chances of the pregnancy coming to term were slim. They pressurised me to continue as planned, my instincts screamed NO!

I saw the Medicine Man regularly after that, he told me that my child was the first of seven souls which he had been called upon to bring through. My son was finally born healthy and whole on the seventh of December, despite him arriving some three weeks early. The Medicine Man checked in with us often over the next two years or so and I wasn't alone in being able to see him, Zach, my son, could to.

He left unexpectedly one night with a close friend of mine and despite having earlier difficulties with conception, her daughter was born some nine months later, she too had noticed the Medicine Mans presence. I haven't seen him since, except in journey space but before he left he told me his true name and to call if he was needed.

I don't know why I was chosen or what Zach's destiny will be but I know that some day the Medicine Man will return. His work is not complete yet, his missions just begun.

I eventually lost touch with the friend that followed in my footsteps, whose child was another of those brought through. By now all seven may have arrived!

I would be interested to hear from anyone who feels that this Medicine Man has made a connection with them or holds any insight into his purpose.