silence tickles awake the sleepy mind
whispers from behind the veil
like the laughter of so many fey folk
everything is heard if you know how to listen

the echo within the echo
when does time begin
does it end if it begins
and yes truly
everytime I think I am awake
I find I am asleep

Once upon the mists of time I came upon the wooded burrow, a sleepy place not yet touched… once upon a day the stars fell like the rain and touched upon this place of dreams not yet born….

And once upon the dreams of high, I danced upon the enigma’s grace… trembling pine and weeping willow, whispers of a sleepy place, a dream not yet broken, a dream not yet born, a dream within souls…

there are so many stories within this place
so many voices within a chaotic mind
and what if all the stories were true
what are you going to do?

You couldn’t see the shiny lights without the night… there’s a gathering and a calling, I hear the cawing… trees whisper messages known but not spoken... the time is now…

In dreaming...
Once upon the mists of time, we wandered off the beaten path. The trees shivered with a gentle light; a kindred to a flame in the night. We listened to the stories that Gaia {Earth} when the River sang to the Moon.
She told us once of a time in the long ago, which direction, she did not know. By the four corners she said they would come, one to meet the other, brothers and sisters, meeting for the first time again and again; brothers sisters who always knew without knowing. One day, brothers and sisters; they fight and Gaia cries from the confines of her dreams. Worlds change and swirl and one day we come into a time new and familiar both; a time when the trees, you can barely hear their dreams and their gentle light has gone out.
The ancients are asleep and the land is tearing up; Gaia whispers in our dreams… change, I feel a change in the winds; the directions are coming together… for the dreams speak; speak of a chance to change the world… let’s tell our stories, stories of the ever in the in between of the long ago… so the stars do dance with the spirit lights, while raven follows the moon’s daughter down to the waterside… awake awake… so they followed the sound… the wild ones danced and played… the muses woke the Sphinx, while Luna’s children whispered and sang into the wind… by mountain and river; the calling on, the calling out… Come, Come one, Come all; come join us at the Bardic Fires…GreenWoodWildFire....