Seeds

Hi dear friends and followers. Today I have another poem composed by me. Much of this poem consists of my own perceptions on reality and fantasy

Seeds

What do my dreams truly mean to me?

They are made of my fantasies, of dragons and fairies,

with enough reality between fantasy's flights

to keep me earthbound, like it or not.

The interwoven product is what I offer you,

compiled as stories, short and serial.

Sometimes a poem comes out of the mix,

all of it mine, in words, for you.

There are many short stories and poems in my blog.

If you visit it with and open mind and heart

you can find detailed beauty that most others miss.

I don't write just lines on a typewritten page;

the substance of the stories is through our own experience,

projected into my writer's make-believe world

whose few constraints are left at the door.

Can you imagine each dream sharing its unique

theme, experience, scenes, and lessons?

Some I feel best said in the form of a poem;

others you may think are just silly stories.

But each story is deeply rooted in reality.

Does it matter whether poem or story it be

as long both are woven into the same cloth?

You might just get to pick your own color thread

if you read what I write and a critic you would be!

One may ask, "You dream dreams of things

so long ago, and some long yet to come.

But have you ever dreamed of a land with no time?"

"Dreaming of things that were and never were,

but might be, and those that could have been."

The potentialities! They are a powerful tool

that make the impossible real by removing the odds

of any given reality to be.

Thus is the finite and infinite all at once,

and time and space become completely irrelevant.

Lady Time - Once she was young and had her fantasies.

Today she builds bridges; now some fantasies are real.

She has done as time must

and she is in my older years now.

She lives alone now with her sole mate,

all that is left to her in this reality.

But at one time she had been loved,

by family and friends, but all that were have passed now;

others are too far away and caught-up daily in their own,

keeping dreams alive and reality at bay,

living their own lives with precious time for little else.

She looked at her image in the mirror of the dresser;

the reality of the years had made a furrow or two

but the reality of fantasy helped her to go back

and do a slow pirouette with her gentleman partner

as the belle of the ball relived her dream.

Composed by Cynthia©

Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. have a great Week.

✿ ڰۣ❤In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿

THE MAN WHO AVENGED THE WIDOWS

Hi dear friends and followers. Today we continue our visit among the Inuit 

The Inuit are sometimes referred to as Eskimos by everyone - except themselves. They find this term offensive and never use it. The exact origin of this word is not known, but some attribute it to their neighbors in the northland, the Cree. In the Cree lexicon the term means "one who eats raw meat." That's a trait not highly esteemed by the Cree.

I mention this because I have borrowed tonight's tale from the book whose title is shown below. It seems that the Inuit had a lot of stories and there were enough people around to record them in some language that was translated into English.

Enjoy a brief tale of an Inuit magician who outfoxes his envious neighbors. Your feedback on this story, or any others, is genuinely appreciated. Did you like it? Shall I find more to share?
Here's the story. Please don't ask me how to pronounce the main character's name!

From ESKIMO FOLK-TALES, by Knud Rasmussen, [1921]


THE MAN WHO AVENGED THE WIDOWS

THIS was in the old days, in those times when men were yet skilful rowers in kayaks. You know that there once came a great sickness which carried off all the older men, and the young men who were left alive did not know how to build kayaks, and thus it came about that the manner of hunting in kayaks was long forgotten.

But our forefathers were so skilful, that they would cross seas which we no longer dare to venture over. The weather also was in those times less violent than now; the winds came less suddenly, and it is said that the sea was never so rough.

In those times, there lived a man at Kangârssuk whose name was Angusinãnguaq, and he had a very beautiful wife, wherefore all men envied him. And one day, when they were setting out to hunt eider duck on the islands, the other men took counsel, and agreed to leave Angusinãnguaq behind on a little lonely island there.

And so they sailed out to those islands, which lie far out at sea, and there they caught eider duck in snares, and gathered eggs, and were soon ready to turn homeward again. Then they pushed out from the land, without waiting for Angusinãnguaq, who was up looking to his snares, and they took his kayak in tow, that he might never more be able to leave that island.

And now they hastened over towards the mainland. And the way was long.

But when they came in sight of the tents, they saw a man going from one tent to another, visiting the women whom they left behind at that place. They rowed faster, and came nearer. All the men of that place had gone out together for that hunting, and they could not guess who it might be that was now visiting among the tents.

Then an old man who was steering the boat shaded his eyes with his hand and looked over towards land.
"The man is Angusinãnguaq," he said.

And now it was revealed that Angusinãnguaq was a great wizard.

When the umiaks had left, and he could not find his kayak, he had wound his body about with strips of hide, bending it into a curve, and then, as is the way of wizards, gathered magic power wherewith to move through the air. And thus he had come back to that place, long before those who had sought his death.

And from that day onwards, none ever planned again to take his wife. And it was well for them that they left him in peace.
For at that time, people were many, and there were people in all the lands round about. Out on the islands also there were people, and these were a fierce folk whom none might come near. Moreover when a kayak from the mainland came near their village, they would call down a fog upon him, so that he could not see, and in this manner cause him to perish.

But now one day Angusinãnguaq planned to avenge his fellow-villagers. He rowed out to those unapproachable ones, and took them by surprise, being a great wizard, and killed many of the men, and cut off their heads and piled them up on the side bench. And having completed his revenge, he rowed away.

There was great joy among the widows of all those dead hunters when they learned that Angusinãnguaq had avenged their husbands. And they went into his hut one by one and thanked him.

Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. have a great Week.

✿ ڰۣ❤In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿

The Friends

Hi dear friends and followers, today we visit the Inuit People.

The Inuit People (also known as Inupiat) make their lives in some of the most hostile environments that I can imagine: in North America around the Arctic Circle, and as far east as Greenland. As this territory is almost always frozen they subsist by hunting seals, bears, whales, fur-bearing animals, birds, and, to an extent, fishing, especially for larger fish. It is indeed a harsh life and they are sturdy, resourceful people.

The story shared here is from a collection of stories found in the book, TALES AND TRADITIONS OF THE ESKIMO, WITH A SKETCH OF THEIR HABITS, RELIGION, LANGUAGE AND OTHER PECULIARITIES BY DR HENRY RINK, KNIGHT OF DANNEBROG, DIRECTOR OF THE ROYAL GREENLAND BOARD OF TRADE, AND FORMERLY ROYAL INSPECTOR OF SOUTH GREENLAND, AUTHOR OF 'GRÖNLAND GEOGRAPHISK OG STATISTISK BESKREVET,' ETC. TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH BY THE AUTHOR, EDITED BY DR. ROBERT BROWN, F.L.S., F.R.G.S. AUTHOR OF 'THE RACES OF MANKIND,' ETC. [London, 1875]

The story has a moral, a lesson for the reader. It's about two men who were great friends, emphasis on the past tense.

THE FRIENDS.

[This is a very famous Greenland story, and is, in its present form, compiled from three copies.]

TWO friends loved each other very dearly. From childhood they had been constant companions. One lived at one of the outermost islands, and the other had his abode far up, at the head of a fiord. They very often visited each other, and when they had been parted for some days, they felt a mutual longing to meet again. 

In the summer the man from the fiord used to go out reindeer-hunting in the interior; but before he went back to the place where he lived, he always took a whole reindeer, choosing one of those with velvety horns and leaving all the tallow in it, to regale his friend with. 

The islander, on his part, saved and laid by large quantities of seals: and when the reindeer-hunter returned, he immediately visited his friend and was regaled with nicely-dried seal-flesh; but in the evening, when the room grew heated, the frozen meat was produced and set before his friend as a cold dish. The guest then praised it very much, and they gossiped till late in the evening. The next day the reindeer-hunter usually had a visit from his friend, but now they only ate reindeer-flesh, and especially the tallow. The friend found it extremely delicious, and ate till he was ready to burst; and at his departure next day he was presented with some dried meat and tallow.

One autumn the hunter lingered in the interior longer than usual. At length the earth was quite frozen over, and still he did not return. At first the friend longed very much for him, but after a while he grew angry with him; and when the first of the preserved seals began to spoil, they commenced to eat away at the whole lot. Later on, when he heard that the hunter had returned, he went out to a grave and cut a bit of fat from a dead body, and with this he rubbed certain parts of a seal he intended to treat his friend with, in order to do him an evil turn on his arrival.

Shortly afterwards he came to pay his visit. The meeting was very pleasant, and as usual he was regaled with various delicacies; and the hunter now told that he had had small luck in getting the reindeer with velvety horns, and this was the reason why he had stayed away so long; and his friend answered, "I was expecting thee very anxiously for some time, but when my first preserved seals began to rot, we ate them all up;" and he added, "let us have the one that was last put by; we will have it for a cold dish." It was accordingly brought in and nicely served up, and the host laid the piece that had been rubbed over with the bit of fat uppermost, and set it before his friend, at the same time begging him to partake of it; but just as the visitor was in the act of helping himself to a piece, something from beneath the ledge gave a pull at his leg. This somewhat puzzled him; however, he was going to commence a second time when he got another pull, on which he said, "I must go outside a little," and rose up at the same time and went.

Being an angakok, the voice of his tornak (guardian-spirit) now warned him, saying, "Thy friend regales thee with a base design; turn the piece over when thou goest back and eat of the opposite part; if thou eatest of the part that is now uppermost thou wilt be sure to go mad." Having again seated himself, be turned the meat over; but his host thought it might be a mere accident. When the guest had eaten sufficiently, be felt a pain in his stomach—he had probably touched some of the poisoned flesh; but he soon recovered, and on taking leave, he asked his friend to return the visit soon. 

When he came home he took a reindeer with velvety horns and treated it in the same manner as his friend had done the seal—rubbing it well with some fat from a dead body; and when his guest came, be instantly regaled him with dried meat and tallow, and never before had the visitor found it so much to his taste. At night the reindeer was set before them with the poisoned side turned up, and putting the knife into it, be said, "There, we have got some cold meat; I have kept it for thee this long while." The friend ate away at it, and several times exclaimed, "This is really delicious!" and the host answered, "Yes, that is because it is so very fat." When the meal was over, the guest felt a pain in his stomach, and, looking hard at every one present, be got up and went outside, but the pains were not relieved. 

Next day be took his leave, and it was a long time before his friend saw him again; when he went out kayaking he never met him as he had done formerly. At length, when the ice began to cover the waters, a boat was seen to put into the firth from the sea, and was recognised as being the boat of the friend; but finding that he himself was not of the party, he asked, "Where is your master?" "He is ill, and has turned raving mad; he wanted to eat us, and therefore we all took flight." 

On the very next day the huntsman went out to visit his friend. Nobody was to be seen about the house; but, creeping through the entry and looking over the threshold, he beheld his friend lying on his back, with eyes staring wildly, and his head hanging over the edge of the couch. He went up to him and asked him how he did, but no answer was given. After a short silence he suddenly started up and shouted with all his might, "Because thou hast feasted me basely, I have eaten up all the inmates of my house, and I will now devour thee too"—and he bounded towards him; but the other escaped through the entry, and quickly made for his kayak.

He only succeeded in pushing off as his pursuer was in the very act of seizing hold of him. The madman now continued running along the shore and crying, "I feel much better now; do come back. When I have not seen thee for a day or two, I am longing dreadfully for thee." On hearing him speak quite sensibly the friend believed him, and put back again.

As soon as he reached the shore, however, the former made a rush at him; but, happily observing this, he pushed off in time. At home he never spoke nor ate from grief for his friend, and his housemates thought him much altered. Towards night he commenced talking to them of his own accord, and told them how he had fared; but the others advised him never to return any more, being sure the madman would eat him too, if he had the chance.

Nevertheless, he paddled away the very next morning as if compelled to do so. Then it all happened just as on the former day. The madman pursued him right into the house, and fastened the door, so that he was obliged to get out through the window, and he barely escaped to his kayak.

The day after, they again tried to detain him; but he was bent upon going. He entered his friend's house and found him worse than before: this time he was lying with his head on the floor and his heels resting on the edge of the bench; his eyes were far protruded and staring wildly, and the bone of his nose as sharp as a knife's edge. On approaching him he started up and pursued his former friend round the room, always crying, "I am starving; I must have thee for food." 

At last the friend succeeded in jumping out of the window, and reached his kayak; but no sooner had he got clear of the shore than he saw the madman walking on the surface of the water, ready to seize hold of the prow of his kayak. He now began swinging to and fro in his kayak, and by this means ripples were formed, so that the madman could not steady himself, but was very nearly falling. Thus he once more escaped him. 

The day after, his housemates again wanted to detain him, but he answered them, "When I have not seen my friend for a whole day, I am ready to die with longing, and cannot desist from going to him." Having arrived at the house of his friend, he found it to be deserted; he searched about everywhere, but did not find him. Outside he observed some footprints winding up hills, and following them, he stopped at a cave in the rock. Here his friend was sitting bent together and much shrunk. As he did not move his friend went up to him, and on trying to lift him up, found him to be quite dead, and his eyelids filled with blood. He now carefully covered and closed up the entrance of the cave, and was henceforth friendless.

Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. have a great Week.

✿ ڰۣ❤In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿

The Woodworker and the Dwarf

Hi dear friends and followers. Today I have a poem for you, I hope you enjoy the read.

The Woodworker and the Dwarf

One day, a very long time ago,

before dwarfs, and fairies, and elves, and gnomes

vanished from the sight and the world of man,

a woodworker took her cart past a huge, old oak tree.

She guided her donkey while pulling the load,

of poles and planks and nails and tools,

when it suddenly stopped and would not budge.

She cajoled the donkey but to no avail;

loudly it brayed and defiantly stood

as though frozen to the ground in its own dusty tracks.

The woodworker stood there in front of the cart,

rather dumbfounded at the donkey's halt.

She removed her wide-brimmed peasant's straw hat

and her long, unruly red tresses tumbled out

as she scratched her head over what next to do.

Tired she was, maybe the donkey was, too.

She then sat on a rock near the side of the road

in the hope that the donkey would soon change its mind.

No sooner had she found scarce comfort

perched on a rock near the road's wagon ruts

than she heard a rustling from within the bushes.

A sound had come from somewhere, she thought,

not far away from the huge, old oak.

The woodworker readied to protect herself

from whatever danger in the bushes there be.

She sprang to her feet and on the wagon's bed

she found a wooden pole, now a knightly lance!

In her right hand she grasped it with a warrior's grip,

prepared for combat on the noble field of battle

in the bushes, by the rock, near the huge, old oak tree.

Dreams, as they are, come to life as they will.

And the woodworker, Remina, dreamed often and big.

Sometimes her dreams were like chasing clouds

but once or twice they came close, so she caught them.

Instead of a chore girl or some farmer's wife,

a skilled artisan, a carpenter, she sought to be.

The carpenter's guild shared the trade with men;

so the red-haired girl learned to work in wood on her own

and journeyed in search of a carpenter's wages.

Now again came her dream, to serve king a knight,

without first serving knight as a page or a squire!

Only men are knights and no woman dare try it.

Again like the knight, so bold in her dream,

she entered the bush at the side of the trail,

her wooden pole-lance high above her head.

Warily forward Remina's steps went

while the donkey stood swatting flies with its tail.

The woman-knight's lance was prepared for its mark

as she rustled the bushes in search of the noise.

Nothing moved so she darted 'round the tree,

prepared to confront the danger that lay beyond.

Pictures of valor flashed through her mind's eye

until broken by the appearance of a dark, stocky form

that jumped out of the bushes, almost in her path!

Dropping her lance-pole, she tried to draw back

but the hem of her skirt caught her heel and she fell

backwards, onto the grass, with red hair

covering her eyes and hiding her blushing face.

The dwarf that she met made a run towards the forest,

then he stopped, looked back, and was rightly surprised.

There Remina laid, in a heap, screaming,

arms and legs flailing in a vain effort to get back up.

The dwarf realized it was not a knight with a lance,

but a young woman with long, red hair,

and, from what he could see from there,

a rather pretty face as well.

"My dear, let me give you a hand, if I may"

he said in a gentle, pleasant voice,

extending his hand out to help her stand up.

Remina took his hand and clambered to her feet.

Sheepishly she brushed the leaves and pine needles

from her clothing and picked the sticks from her hair.

The dwarf spoke further: "I am called McFee."

"Please, let us sit and collect our wits.

What is it that they call you, red-haired one?"

"Remina," she said, shyly, while biting on her knuckle.

"Do not worry, my lady. I will do you no harm.

I need to be certain that you are well and whole

before I leave you and return to my kingdom.

Remina stopped chewing on her right-hand's first knuckle

and dropping it to her side she turned,

and looked directly at the dwarf for the first time.

A small and perfect man was he,

no taller than her waist in height.

Home spun were his clothes,

well-fitting yet coarse and

colorful for a creature of the forest.

But then, not even the hawk or fox

could ever hope to catch this dwarf,

for fleet of foot were the forest dwarfs.

If not wanting to get caught they vanished,

like a shadow from light into the darkness.

But right then and there this red haired girl

had captured his heart more effectively

than the hawk or fox ever could hope to do.

This dwarf, the lords and ladies in his kingdom,

had never beheld such a diamond in the rough

as had MeFee when he beheld the woodworker woman.

Surely if he were to return with this prize

all would cheer him and fete him

and slap his back at what he had found.

The minutes flew as they grew more acquainted,

and the dwarf learned of her dreams and aspirations.

Swiftly he drew his bow with arrow placed.

Remina winced and closed here eyes tightly,

expecting the arrow to pierce her at any second.

But when no arrow came she opened them again, slowly.

She was overwhelmed by emotion because with his arrow true,

McFee had opened a doorway to a place she had never seen,

a place between worlds, without donkey or cart

or woodwork or wages or yearning for knighthood.

By the dazzling scene that lay before her she knew

that she was no longer standing where she had just seconds ago.

She saw a world like none she had ever seen before,

A world of beauty and light it was, and she could see it!

She beheld and marveled at yet another wonder before her.

A spiraled city floated in the clouds.

This was the kingdom of the dwarfs,

A world where she was free to live her dreams,

and to be all that she could ever possibly be.

This story is open for a sequel if you wish

Composed by Cynthia©

Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. have a great Week.

✿ ڰۣ❤In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿

Keeping It Real by Frizzy Lizzy

Hi dear friends and followers, welcome to Frizzy Lizzy

Keeping It Real by Frizzy Lizzy

Hi, Everyone! I was going to write about a really nice, romantic Valentine's Day that I had at some point in the past but I just couldn't find one. Lord knows that I have a fair number of Valentine's Days in my past, but none stand out as worth remembering as being good or bad.

I don't know for sure, but maybe I was the cause of it. I never insisted on making a great, big fuss over Valentine's Day. Oh, sure, I always bought my sweetheart a card and found some sort of gift, be it a trinket ,or the latest gadget, or a special meal that I prepared but once a year, and I enjoyed doing it, but I just never made a big deal of Valentine's Day.

Why set aside a day for expressing your love when you have love for someone close to you every day of the year? Am I totally inept or disabled at expressing my love that I can do it but once a year, or maybe on Christmas, birthdays, anniversaries, and Valentine's Day?

Why not express that love in some way every day of the year in all that you say, do, feel, believe, and desire? I find this much more comfortable than expressing love just a few times a year.

Let me be the first to tell you that this takes two to make it work on a daily basis. It takes someone who believes that they are blessed by a love so wonderful that it transcends human understanding to return that love to someone who does not become conceited or jaded by such omnipresent love. There are easier things to do, like make fine whiskey in your living room without the neighbors suspecting, or design and fabricate a truly left-handed screwdriver, or lose 40 pounds because you wore a "miracle" fat-burning patch on your ass for six weeks and continued to eat as you pleased. You can always get your virginity and sanity back more quickly if you try.

The way that I approached Valentine's Day was possibly because of when I was coming of age. I am a child of the 1960s and I can see no reason for why love cannot be lived all year long and not restricted to expressions on certain days, and in expected ways.

Now for those of you who think that I am a wet blanket for not jumping on the Valentine's Day bandwagon, you might want to ask yourself a few questions. Which would you prefer: Flowers and chocolates once a year and a blah rest of the year or a love that keeps you warm and secure, filled with little gestures of affection as expressed by your partner all through the year and not a big fuss on Valentine's Day?

Please do not get me wrong here. I am all for observing Valentine's Day. I just like it better when it goes on for 365 days a year, in sickness and in health, for better or for worse... you get the picture.

Thank you for hearing me out and have a Happy Valentine's Day.

Here's a song to keep in your heart all year long. I hope that you enjoy it.

Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. have a great Week. 

✿ ڰۣ❤In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿

Haida Mother Bear Story

Hi dear friend and followers

The Haida People traditionally occupied an area in the extreme south of the Alaska Panhandle. They still occupy that area today. Their influence extends south to British Columbia, including the settlement of Haida Gwaii on Graham Island, one of the Queen Charlotte Islands.

Aside from being skillful mariners, Haida men hunted small game, took fish and sea mamals, and were part of a culture known to be fierce warriors on the water as well as on land.

Haida women wove baskets and filled them with berries, roots, and medicinal herbs.

They were master carpenters who built canoes that held as many as 60 rowers out of a single red cedar tree. The same type of tree was made into planks to form their homes.


Today we have a legend from the Haida about a meeting between some girls and some bears.

Haida Mother Bear Story

Long ago, a group of girls were out gathering huckleberries. One among them was a bit of a chatterbox, who should have been singing to tell the bears of her presence instead of laughing and talking. The bears, who could hear her even though some distance away, wondered if she was mocking them in her babbling. By the time the berry-pickers started home, the bears were watching.

As she followed at the end of the group, the girl's foot slipped in some bear dung and her forehead strap, which held the pack filled with berries to her back, broke. She let out an angry laugh. The others went on. Again she should have sung, but she only complained. The bears noted this and said, "Does she speak of us?" It was growing dark. Near her appeared two young men who looked like brothers. One said, "Come with us and we will help you with your berries". As the aristocratic young lady followed them, she saw that they wore bear robes.

It was dark when they arrived at a large house near a rock slide high on the mountain slope. All the people inside, sitting around a small fire, were wearing bearskins also. Grandmother Mouse ran up to the girl and squeaked to her that she had been taken into the bear den and was to become one of them. The hair on her robe was already longer and more like a bear's. She was frightened. One of the young bears, the son of a chief, came up to her and said, "You will live if you become my wife. Otherwise you will die."

She lived on as the wife of the bear, tending the fire in the dark house. She noticed that whenever the Bear People went outside they put on their bear coats and became like the animal. In thewinter she was pregnant, and her husband took her to a cliff cave near the old home, where she gave birth to twins, which were half human and half bear.

One day her brothers came searching for her, and the Bear Wife knew she must reveal her presence. She rolled a snowball down the mountainside to draw their attention, and they climbed up the rock slide. The Bear Husband knew that he must die, but before he was killed by the woman's brothers, he taught her and the Bear Sons the songs that the hunters must use over his dead body to ensure their good luck. He willed his skin to her father, who was a chief. The young men then killed the bear, smoking him out of the cave and spearing him. They spared the two children, taking them with the Bear Wife back to her People.

The Bear Sons removed their bear coats and became great hunters. They guided their kinsmen to bear dens in the mountains and showed them how to set snares, and they instructed the people in singing the ritual songs. Many years later, when their mother died, they put on their coats again and went back to live with the Bear People, but the tribe continued to have good fortune with their hunting.

Thank you very much again, dear friends, for visiting my blog. Please share your thoughts with us, if you will. have a great Week.

✿ ڰۣ❤In Loving Light from the Fairy Lady❤ڰۣ✿