10 May The Owl’s Breath
The leaves rustled as the branch did its rhythmic tap dance against the stained glass of the open bedroom window.
The owl blinked slowly, turned its head in that disturbing way that these cats with wings do, and cast its fixed gaze to rest upon the small vulnerable form laying amidst a tumble of bed linen.
Sweat glistened upon the young forehead, arms flung out on top of the tangled blankets, twitching fingers curled and uncurled as the eyes moved rapidly behind eyelids laced with long dark lashes wet and sticky with tears.
The owl watched unperturbed as the light of the full moon sought and found the face of this young child caught in the unrelenting and cruel embrace of the nightmare she struggled to escape from.
The child’s mouth opened in a soundless scream to which only the owl was witness, just as it had been every night over the past three months.
The owl blinked once more, gave a low long mournful hoot and closed its eyes. Its claws firmly gripping the branch, it launched its Spirit body straight through the window and into the child’s dream.
Here the owl had a voice that could shape the words of humans.
“Asha” he called.
This was his first foray into her dream and he did not know where to go, nor what to do.
“Asha” he sought his Spirit wings only to find he did not have any, nor did he need them.
He sensed a deeper darkness in the empty space of the void and plummeted.
“Asha” he screamed and fell into her terror.
It writhed around and through him, cloying at his awareness, seeking life to shred and destroy.
Fear was its banquet and it was hungry for more.
The owl opened itself
and into that ravenous maw
he breathed his silent stillness,
the blessing of the moon,
the scent of of jasmine,
the healing of green,
the velvet of moss,
the colours of the rainbow,
the laughter of children,
the song of the dawn,
the warmth of the sun,
the embrace of a mother,
the magic of life,
and the love of his heart,
and with that deep offering the child was free.
Posted by Sa Silvano on 10th May 2019