Totem Talk

Working With The Animal Totems

Art- Sharonlee 2013

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Video- Sharonlee 2013

For this I had taken a walk through the park, to the far side where a fallen log offered a prefect seat in the wilder part of the park. Here I sank myself into a silence that echoed softly with murmuring tree branches.

 

Zen & the Art of Visualization #1

 

closing eyes

a scene unfolds on mind-dark panorama

over-grown with weeds & fragrant wildflowers

a path opens up before me…

the intrusive drone of distant traffic

fades in forest echoes

fades… softer…fades… fainter…. fainter –

whisperings of cool wind ripple treetops gently

caressingly fingering blushing green

as pools of sunlight stream

through filigree branches…

 

soft mosses glisten with sweet pure moisture

‘neath trees of regal poise

I step onto the beckoning path

no fear to where it goes

just yearning within my heart & soul

to walk a little ways

to sooth my flagging spirit

in incandescent haze…

 

closed eyes miss not a single sight

such profound tranquillity wrapped in an echo of sound

I let my feet slowly wander

not caring where I was bound…

willows brushed the path-edge….a delicate gentle tune

and between the lace-like branches

I glimpsed both sun and moon

star-jasmine grew in trailing vine

… and as I paused to breath the perfumed threads

tendrils wove a garland

which was placed upon my head….

 

on I walked with measured pace

through fragrant air that was soft & light

the haunting notes of an ancient flute

spoke of the balance of day & night

emerald shadows beckoned me

to leave the overgrown path

beckoned me to follow

the hollow echo of a distant laugh…

 

the way opened up before me

and closed as I passed through

no fear nor phobia plagued me…

no negativity trailed my step

I felt so strange yet oh so calm

as if I was returning home

to a place

…. I could neither remember nor forget…

and still I walked… quite boldly

the way the forest showed

lost in surreal tranquillity

enchanted by an ethereal glow…

 

 

a clearing opened around me

and in amongst tumbled stone

a waterfall danced merrily

singing for me and me alone

and in this place of whispered echoes

I knew had come home…

*

Sharonlee Goodhand 2013

 

 

For this I sat outside, focusing only on my sense of Smell; after a time of quiet sitting, eyes closed, one fragrance above all others drifted in and out with my breathing, that of the lemon myrtle tree.

 

Zen and the Art of Visualization #2

 

closing eyes

a scene unfolds

full coloured shades on mind-dark canvas…

peripheral sounds fade… softer… softer

until all that remains is a supple soughing wind…

 

a gentle breeze tenderly offers

a fragrance rich in earthy memories

my mind follows the scented trail

of humus & wild wattle… heady drifts of native flowers

hang heavy in the air…

 

… mind steps forward with familiar confidence

so memorable is this essence

that I am drawn willingly along a twisting track

that wends its way past tea-tree, acacia & mimosa

… winds its way to a giggling creek tickling

over water-pounded pebbles

that speak of eons past…

so swept up am I in recollections of this scent

soothed and coddled by nuances

of younger freer days…

 

… birds sing herehere herehere…

and following their guiding call

I stumble into a cloud of lemon myrtle

fresh lemony-sharp citrus perfume

funnels down the tunnels of memory

to such a carefree day, a lemon-scented day

when trees were meant for climbing

and creeks for freshwater swims that cleanse

both spirit & skin…

 

… closing eyes…breathing in

fresh air… wild myrtle… and…. and something softer

sweeter…. more delicate in both scent & recollection…

bouquets of love fill my mind

… a smile, soft and reminiscent, blushes my lips…

closed eyes see all…

like pages of an autobiography

mind images flip

to another day

another me…

 

eagerly the images show

paper-bark-trees by swampy stillwater

quivering fragrance of wild orchid

growing in delicate array

lifts my feet off solid earth

as once upon a long time ago

love lifted me so, when strong arms

held that younger woman me

up in the fragrant branches of a paper-bark-tree;

 

… eyes closed …breathing in …. out…

fresh air… wild myrtle… and…. and something softer

sweeter…. more delicate in both scent & recollection-

- bouquets of love filled my mind and restored my balance.

*

Sharonlee Goodhand 2013

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