A New Ceremony for the Old Skin

I awoke to the sobriety of the morning.

As the pale light was offering new life, I came into a vision.

Dreams have a way, a quality to them that is distinguished from our surface hours, as do these visions. Dreams feel and look like paintings, sloshed, imperfect, brushed and often enigmatic. These visions are exact, razor sharp, cold; cold in the way we know Death to be. They are of course, highly interpretive, however they are precise in what they show us.

Vision i

As I started walking, I came upon a morning beach, not the red & orange but the blue. That dark, heavy blue morning we find walking shore side, alone, with the grains of sand that still dream of being rocks. As I walked crooked, toward the everlasting horizon, I came upon a beached log, dilapidated, swollen with years of water, and broken; broken in the way we still are, longing for connection.

As I walked closer I found a pelt, brown and thick with the morning water. I began to pick the unbound skin up and realized as I was doing so, my own skin was that which I was examining; as I continued to remove the skin from the log, so did my own come off the bone. In the speed we see ants relieve flesh from the Dead, before long, I too was bare, free of the nerves & cartilage that so tightly bind me to this world. And as I examined what has always been but just under the surface, I stood for the first time, truly being kissed by the wind.

...cold in the way we know Death to be.

Vision ii

Just as I felt the coarse sea air call this new child deeper into Her bosom, I blinked, and as my vision cleared I awoke to the tall grass.

That tall grass we see in our oldest memories when all we had was the Moon to Light the dark.

As I walked into the dense and murky green, a large Gray Wolf appeared, not in the way we see them but know them, a large head and indistinguishable eyes.

As I got closer, the Wolf and I embraced, kissed, kissed in the way Wolves do. A kiss that brings one inches from laceration. A kiss that surely must be brought deep from within the Animus. A kiss that tells the other, “I will protect you with my life, but take yours if you go too far.” This deep embrace lasted for only seconds but felt as tomorrow often does, a place where we are promised the hope we often only find in yesterday.

....kissed in the way Wolves do.

Image is composited media of two unsourced images, I do not own nor am I the originator of them.