In the woods you meet yourself coming and going, don’t you? Trees sing in wind. Leaves flutter. Magic happens.
If you dream with the aspen and maple and oak.
Sometimes a flute tree reveals itself. Surely the Native American flute players learned to design their lyrical instruments from the whispering of a flute tree.
Play me, it says.
It can lead you down roads where dream and reality intersect. Where true healing can happen. Where we can remember our purpose in this earth life.
Further down the path you notice rain drops suspended in a spider web. Some people simply see web and rain. Are you one of those seers? (I have been some foggy mornings when life’s stories seem so perplexing and thunderclouds rumble overhead.)
Or do you notice how sometimes you’re a spinner of webs and sometimes you’re a dew drop and sometimes you’re caught and sometimes you’re free?
Do you see how things appear for a moment and then disappear?
Are you awake to how this intersects in your life, or are you sleeping with the next thought? (I am often sleeping with the next thought and miss what the spider whispers.)
We’re all walking a road through life. A dirt road perhaps. It seems to stretch endlessly in front of us, but it’s really quite short. It’s so very very short. Just around the bend we may realize we’ve missed actually noticing the wild asters, the waving goldenrod, the first hints of autumn.
Our souls pound dirt and gravel without really realizing the love that stretches all around. Flute tree, rain web, road of life.
May we wake up fully to our heart’s knowing. That is the spider’s prayer as she pauses weaving in the rain. Do you hear the silent music from the flute tree?