I thought today I would like to take a vow of silence. Bow out gracefully from actually speaking to others. Spend some time with this bobcat in my dreams and let him show me the way. That’s what he’s there for right? That’s why he has come? Dream after dream, night after night, sitting there watching me. Waiting. Like any minute I’m gonna either follow him or run the other way. He makes it seems so easy, peering into the hidden things. Yet I never seem to know my ass from a hole in the ground. His gaze is steady even as the wind touches his whiskers. One dream he’s screaming at me, the other he’s gently watching. Either way I’m being haunted, hunted and it’s not for his dinner but his path. Just speak already and let me sleep. When you came running wildly at me screaming like you were gonna rip me to shreds, appearing in my face every detail and then jumping past me on the path and disappearing up the mountain; were you angry? Did my feet go the wrong way, down the path in fear instead of up the mountain to follow you? You are the patient medicine but somehow I feel even you grow impatient with me. Yet here I am, pulling at others in great faith of facing fears; forgetting that my own debilitate my walk. What have you to teach me since you keep intruding my dream space? What hidden message, what fear are you persistently pleading for me to dispel with those yellow eyes? Today, my heart skipped many beats and for a moment I couldn’t breathe. I saw your face, this other-wordly wisdom that I think it scares the living hell out of me but calms the course of my blood flow at the same time.
I look out my stained small window that only shows a part of the sky. I remember Juvenile detention and tip toeing to reach a tiny bit of sun. It feels much the same. The only thing different is now I comply. Now I sit here waiting for the clouds to part in my little window but they never do, day after day. Once I was made to hold up in a certain space because others said my spirit was too wild and I wasn’t old enough to taste freedom or to know my own way. What do I really know now, when truth is, the door isn’t locked this time and still here I sit waiting for someones permission to chase the light. Yes, Mr. Bobcat, I’d be pissed at me too!
I would like to blame my plight and my irregular heartbeat on some mixed blood that didn’t/ couldn’t adhere in the same blood cell. DNA that refused to splice or be consumed properly. One side hears the native drum and the other far away places on majestic hillsides, bagpipes in the wind. The native drum gets louder and louder and so loud on somedays, it splits my head into. Somedays I feel like I can change the world and this tainted blood spilled land here everyone seems so eager to grab. Then other days come where I step outside my car and I can smell the stench of fear and pain, apathy and material hell that we’ve all created to make ourselves ok with now. Then the drum beat slows and like an IV stuck in my vein, I’m paralyzed, diseased and bare. All that I need is a little dream.
I read that the bobcat path infuriates others. Oh they smile and pat your head and say…”wow, that’s good medicine”. When all the while not understanding what they hate the most about it. Can you please just understand I’m not the bobcat. He’s just chasing me. If my stride and his meet in the wilderness on the other side of sleep, it will keep me. Love is the answer for everything in between. peace.
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