“Once upon a time, When women were birds, There was the simple understanding That to sing at dawn And to sing at dusk Was to heal the world through joy. The birds still remember what we have forgotten, That the world is meant to be celebrated.”
Terry Tempest Williams
Those who know the power of visions and of dreams will tell you that our dreams and our visions come from the deep mysterious space that houses and connects us all to the first flame. That every vision from this sacred space, unobstructed by the conditioned mind, is a gift and a guide towards healing for the individual and for the people. This is why every single Earthwise culture held dream circles as vital for healing the tribe and providing oracular guidance.
I am a visionary. There is no way around this, although much of my life it was buried under trauma and lies, yet I am now allowing my dreams and visions to come forth in service to the sacred flame of life. When I embody them, share them and give them wings, a synchronistic alliance of support enters my life that cannot be explained by “rational” dissection, questioning, scrutiny. I am fortified in a knowing that guides my life in the direction of holistic evolution that considers the heartbeat of every living thing.
This dream is a simple share. So simple that it may feel threatening to you. So familiar, so nostalgic, that you may squirm as your heart cracks just a little to a memory of your knowing buried long ago. It is a dream vision that has been seen by others in their own way throughout time. The ladybirds live in the Quantum field as the stories of bird tribes and women’s mysteries have been found cross culturally. They rise out of the first flame. This dream is a prophecy. It is a healing balm if you choose to take it into your being.
The wisdoms that sustain life also sustain time’s transfigurations. They may shapeshift subtly to meet the day and age of humanity, but their essential message is never corrupted as it is woven into the fabric of Sacred Law. I believe similar visions are retold through those with eyes to see and ears to hear until the message becomes more clear, potent. And because through each telling there is a rebirth from the mouthed womb of the teller allowing it to reach into places and have resonance where it may have not reached through prior telling- the prophecies, the visions and the dreams must be repeated. Enjoy…
I was walking through the end of a dream and there was a bike and a path ahead. Actually there were two paths ahead and the one I chose was more narrow, a little more rugged. I get on the bike, red and rounded like it was left from my Grandmother’s childhood. I head down the path and I hear the voice of an elder woman I know in the background of the dream. She loves birds, or so I gathered when I lived in her home and saw her bird books and love of nature.
She says “Shira, look ahead in that tree”. I knew it must be something spectacular, but as I looked I could only see the faint image of an ‘ordinary bird’. I got closer, understanding that I could not yet see what she was pointing me towards, and besides, all birds are anything but ordinary.
When I approached the tree there was a shimmering blue essence and I realized that all of the birds in the tree were women. I was looking behind the veil into the land of ladybirds. It was silent all around me as I witnessed them, soft lips pierced, eyes closed and making little chirping movements to the sky. I understood they were speaking to Heaven, receiving song.
They then saw me and the veil between us vanished. I was told the secrets of how every single bird on land and sky, who sings the Earth alive every day, a constant chorus spiraling around the world, is a woman reincarnated. They showed me how every woman has little, lace like silver wings at her back, so subtle. And that she only comes to know them by allowing the changing winds of the four directions and the ever changing tides of life to guide her. Then she will fly, she will sing and become bird again- to awaken Life to the light of day.
But our birds are dying and our trees that hold them because our women have given away their song to that which does not teach us all how to rise according to Life’s glory. When all women remember their song, in unison with Life, the Earth will restore Herself to balance again.
Keepers of the song, birth givers into the light- rise and shine. Please. Thank you.
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