{There appears to be a dream world}

{Or is it just flickering illusions of shifting brain chemistry?} 

{During a typical lifespan, a person spends a total of about six years dreaming}

{About two hours each night}

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​"That we come to this earth to live is untrue. We come but to sleep, to dream." - Aztec poem

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Curandera

{Mover of Dreams}

by Dionysos Maskaleris

{For Xequina my curandera who guided me into the dream world}

You are... powerful.

Yes you are the woman of rainbow eyes.

When I first saw you in these rooms I did not know you 

for my pain blinded me

but my soul saw the power of your soul.

A part of me is afraid - afraid of the truth you will reveal of me - 

my weaknesses and my yet hesitant powers.

A part of me wants to give you of myself because I want to heal and be free

and because I want to reward you - give back to you a little of what you have given -

for the beauty and goodness you have brought to the world and because of the pain

you have healed in others and the pain of your own you still endure.

Out of your nostrils and ears and eyes fly your dreams and you enter me -

not as lovers but in a way more intimate as you see places in me I have never known or loved.

I open my arms and my solar plexus to your power and my dreams are yours.

Out of my dreams come my poems and my own power and this power 

is the receptive power and it is free for anyone to take.

My tears flow from my poems and they are yours to taste.

I am proud of my tears.

Out of my tears is the power to shift pain to joy.

I am also shy of my tears.

I cry tears for everyone in the world and for the Earth 

and my tears turn into dreams again that join with yours.

Out of your eyes your rainbows of healing dreams find hearts of mountains

and you free the crying souls.

Yes I love your dreams and my dreams fly as poems to you to thank you and to touch

your soul with the songs of my soul and of all souls.
***

{All Dionysos Maskaleris writings copyright or copyright pending}

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Walk on a rainbow trail, walk on a trail of song, and all about you will be beauty.

There is a way out of every dark mist, over a rainbow trail."

-Navajo Song 

 

I am the woman who holds up the sky.

My feet are planted in all generations.

My feet are deep in melted rock.

I walk through darkest night wearing starlight in my hair.

I am the woman that holds up the sky.

The rainbow runs through my eyes.

The sun makes a path to my womb.

My thoughts are in the shape of clouds, but my words are yet to come.

-Ute 

Curandera - American Spanish, feminine of curandero, healer; see curandero 
A woman who practices folk medicine; an herb doctor.

A Mexican woman who practices healing techniques inherited from the Mayans.

A healer, therapist - a person skilled in a particular type of therapy

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