Thursday, February 7, 2013

Mountain Lion, part 2

In the darkness last night and early this morning, Mountain Lion wandered. Her large paws and languorous steps padded softly in the background of my dreams.

In one I wandered through a vast cloister. No one was there. The vaulted ceiling was sage green; the cupolas and archways were saffron; the pillars were light with long shadows crossing them and playing across a wide open floor. A fresh breeze stirred long gauzy curtains that covered the arches leading to the yard beyond the cloister. I felt at peace and at home. This was my sanctuary. Through the billowing curtains, I saw forest and beyond that, hills. In the moment, all was still and silent.

I stopped beneath one of the domes, breathed deeply and felt my arms rise from my sides to an upraised position. My sleeves were fastened in cuffs around my wrists; the rest of my garment flowed nearly to the floor; I was bare-footed on cold marble. My garment, sleeves and a shawl or scarf I wore blew in the gentle breeze.

I have no idea how long I stood that way; it seemed only a moment, yet when I lowered my arms and opened my eyes, the shadows had deepened and I could no longer tell what color things were within the enclosure. It was through these shadows that Mountain Lion came. She padded noiselessly, yet I knew precisely where she was. She walked into the cloister grounds from behind me and gave wide berth to where I stood. She wove in and out and in and out through the pillars, never getting too close. Finally, she was just to my left in front of me, facing me. Had she come closer, I could have easily rested my hand on her back. Her head, erect, could easily rest on my belly. I felt the rumble of her purr.

No other sounds passed between us. She stood solemnly a dozen feet from me. I had no fear, just a deep sense of deference and awe. My sense was that she bore a parallel feeling: no fear and total confidence.

Then I awoke with that sensation permeating my rising. What a way to greet the day!

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