Sunday, 7 August 2016

Story of the Wind and the Water

"The lulling cradle"

When the waters were divided it called the wind along and the whole became a movement which spread to all depths and all heights as one.

The Great Maestro called Earth and she became. A great clump with precious veins of life, sprouting a new growth.

The expanse was filled with lights that ruled days and nights.

The moon was chosen to light the path of waters as it ebbed and flowed, allowing wind to follow.

The soothing became a cradle, receiving Earth’s firstborn.

They filled the waters and the skies.

Song was born….

I perched on the high branches, seeing my new world of beauty, I heard the messages in the wind as it moved over me and I felt the urge to know where she comes from.

As my wings opened I almost fell but wind was there to hold me, aligning me with my path. My feet lifted off my branch when wind raised me and I tumbled into the strangeness of nothing to hold on. But suddenly, a solid stream from wind caught my wings and I became part of the skies.

Above the streams I followed, gliding up high over mountains, seeing wide. Down into valleys I dived, beholding the fragrances and colours.

The silver thread was there, always, with many more. I became one with the wind and our flight made my wings ever stronger as we flew on forever until we reached the great silver pool.

My journey ended and yet began anew. From the highest rock I saw how my beautiful world unfolded. The spring of my lulling cradle from where I was born….

The gliding waters are hauling the wind along and the breeze touches my wings, summoning me to join. I take flight over the glistening crystal, riding on waves of wind. I taste the salty foam as wind plays over the smooth backs of flowing silver.

I see my other siblings as I fly across - I see them in shallow puddles, I see them in the dark blue, some with wings as mine come up into the sky to meet me, and others without wings dive back into the silver pool.

We become as we were formed, forever flowing with water and wind. And as the silver turned gold and then copper, we fly to our new homes on the last rays of a setting sun, while water and wind continues to gently sway our cradle.

The love of LORD GOD is my blue sky.
The birds teach me my freedom….

Listen to part of this composition here
To be continued

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Thursday, 1 January 2015

He who fed the birds


(Over the plains where I dwell I see the fireworks of the Almighty as He replies to those of man of yesternight yet the birds have taken rest, they know Him and His voice)

The greater noise of Him is my music, my song.
Oh blessed is the Name I call upon.

The greater light He casts is my light
as it vibrates on the paths of the night.

I feel the trembling under my bare feet,
my soul is rising as I meet
each sight, each sound.

Electrified skies as His power runs,
cutting that of man to none.

I breathe the pure air washed by Heaven’s tears,
knowing all yesternight’s fears.


(A crumb in the pocket of he who fed the birds was on my hand today
And that moment, this mighty music began to play
and as I wrote this sound, I found...)

Papa, I miss you. Do you hear my music?


(Prelude from "God's Fire")


First Revelation, Petals Vol.1, 6th Movement

(I remembered the child I was as the spirit came back to me. I was happy but terribly confused and scared to face the memories that came with and I cried out)

The child’s spirit becomes saddened and I feel the pain. Strength comes from more spirits who know the sad songs and I become lighter, yet tired of carrying the burden again.

The child’s spirit cries and I cry.

Rest my child, take solitude, my Grand Maestro says.

(The Great Voice spoke and all the voices became a force of many that I have to listen to our Grand Maestro)

And as the skies and Earth is filled with every spirit supporting me, I eventually come to rest.

Monday, 22 December 2014

We Played, We Cried (incomplete)

We played, We cried – song by Dawn Els
For my childhood friend Mmahidi, Daughter of Sophie
Farm Alsace of Tom J Wheeler, District Trichardtsdal, South Africa early 1960’s
I still remember, I still hurt…..

(oh where are you)

Our lives ripped apart when we were so young
My heart, bleeding for you.
run child run,
we must live
to grow up
we must hide
to survive
my Sister
let us grow old
our story be told
our children can play
together one day
in freedom under our sun
in our fields
the danger is there
to take, to devour
my little Sister
we have to run
Our hearts were beating as one
when we ran along
My Sister, they did us wrong.
Can you hear me
Do you hear the drums
Calling, will they call again
I play them now for you my Sister
Let the wind carry the sound
Until you are found.

My voice, as we played
Arm in arm we’d run
To the river
Through the orchards
The tall elephant grass
Your voice, one voice.

We must play together again
Laugh and cry before we die

Who saw us – they were blind.
Who heard us – they were deaf
Who cared – they had no hearts.
And never saw, never listened
That heartless pest of politics
Regarded none
We would never have won.