song

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Earth & Space, 14th of December, Door 14

Photo: Pintrest/Samsung

“So many cues, yet it seems you don’t know how to start. Pretty silly actually as how you start is not important. Nothing could matter less. The only thing that matters is that you start”, she says in her matter of fact way,  Do-ris the deer

“It is important to experience joy”, the radio speaks in between.

“And now you jump in to fear and pressure, realizing that no, you probably have not allowed yourself to experience joy the past months, you have filled it all up with the so called important things and joy was not on that list. The only thing you feel now is that you are not even living up to allowing yourself to feel joy. Down in the basement the elevator goes. Oh, was it already in the basement? Hmmmmm…. can it maybe move sideways down there? Bog itself deeper in the mud of pressure and anxiety? No? Not possible? Well, that’s at least awesome!”

Up head the ravens and crows are having their usual dusk discussions. Who is sitting where, in what tree, why, why not, goodnight and all that.

Do-ris is looking out at me from across  the snow filled glen.

“Let your wings unfold, shake them, let them drop around you like a cape filled with the warm holding of all the angelic light beings surrounding you. The entire choir of Sacred Fierceness. It is time to see that only darkness can hold the light, the stars in the sky. And the closer to the light, the lighter the darkness. The darker the darkness, the more intense the light.”

I stand up, reach my arms out and up, swirl, turn, bow.

“Angel wings of open fire. Fill me with my heart’s desire. Numbness leaves this heart of mine. Song of Joy, thy will be done.”

Snowflakes.

Author: Cecilia Götherström / Pejuta Wakinyazi

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Transmissons of Starlight / 12

Monday.
12-12-22.

Let me sing you
the song
of 
Mondays

of new beginnings,
of moon,
of new,
and beginnings

I mean,
have there ever been
old beginnings?

Just saying…

You see,
for something
to begin
something 
else
must end

Yet

it’s all actually
one
long thread of 
now’s.

It’s all in how
you
see
it

Division?
or
Connection?

both in the
same
coin

Before
ends
Now
begins

yet

all is
Now

Every day,
every moment
has
its own
energy

Notice it,
you only can
when 
you hear
the
Now

Do you hear it?

Now
Now
Now

No dreaming,
just being

No pining,
just soaking

Now
Now
Now

All there is

Now

Starlight

Now

Let me sing to you
the song of
Mondays

Your beginnings
your endings
your now’s

Your Star-light.

This.
Is.
It.

Presence,
Power,
Stillness

Starlight.

This.





Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022
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Transmissions of Starlight / 7

 
 
The Starling crying out, 
singing, calling. 
A portrait of what is awakening, breaking. 
A call of the wild from deep within. 
Green moss embedded in the Earth. 
 
It was time to take a new name.  
 
She had been known as Wolf Woman, Fighter, Grand Symphony of Cacophony and many more names before. Now there was just presence. 
 
“I am a force of Nature. I am Power and Stillness in one.” 
 
The Trinity of Presence, Power and Stillness. 
 
The Trinity of the new era. 
The Trinity of Starlight. 
 
“I am a force of Nature. I am Power and Stillness in one”, had landed in her lap, via Starlight, some months ago. What it meant had not dawned on her gently. It had done so abruptly. Several times. Multiple abruptness one might say, if that’s a term. 
 
The Trinity of Presence, Power and Stillness. 
 
“It is needed now. It will be sorely needed in the months and years to come. Remember it like a storm within when the wrecking ball bashes outside. Stand in The Trinity of Presence, Power and Stillness. In it. Not outside it. Not around it. In it.” 
 
The Northern Lights were swooshing, speaking, singing to her again. Amazing how they seemed to pick up where Reindeer had left off. 
 
Trinity picked her pen up. Closed the book. It was time to write the new story. With every breath. With every step. With every backlash anew. 
 
 
The Trinity of  Power, Presence and Stillness. 
 
Moon and Star. Star and Moon. 
 
Starlight. 
 
 
Cecilia Götherström, Kringlans AdventsKalender 2022
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Elsa’s Song, Dec 2nd 2021

“ In a gentle way you can shake the world”

– Mahatma Gandhi

The darkness of the winter morning holds a cocoon. Nejla embraces the coolness of the bedroom air mixed with the warm welcoming of her worn out snowboard-socks.

Minutes later, cup of warm team with milk and honey in hand, her mother’s knitted scarf wrapped around her waist and another one around her shoulders, she is in the garden. Inhaling the new day. It is ceremony time.

The morning star is not alone in the sky this time of the year. You could say there’s a family, even a tribe of a truly interconnected web of morning stars. One shining brighter than the next, yet noone stealing the light from the other. Every single light source enhancing each other. Every breath a pulsation of light against the soft darkness of the multiverse.

“There are stars which are no stars, and there are skies which are no skies. There are no terms and conditions on creation. Just because we have named something from our perspective, looking in one direction, does not mean that is the way it is.”, Nejla spoke, pondering, to the winter air.

“What would it take to be a sadhu?” Nejla thought to herself. “What would it take to be a choice. A choice to just experience the here and now? To stop, to stay, to watch through the veils. Noticing that sometimes they are sturdy blinds and other times the velis dissipate in front of your eyes as you observe them? To be someone not going anywhere physically and ambitionally all the time, but expanding from within?”

“It would only take that. A choice. The choice. You see, magic is a choice too.” 

The voice seemed to come from the winter breeze. In the shifting light of the morning sun approaching from the east and the dense snow clouds moving in from the north a little sparkle started to manifest right in front of her eyes.

December 2nd 2021, Cecilia Götherström

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Elsa’s Song, Dec 1st 2021

“When the full moon dances in its own light. When its shadow pulls the breath of slivering starlight. When the omens and the signs are one and the same. When the exhalation of the pine trees is your sleep, your lingering moments of trust. That is when the moonstone speaks to you my child.”

The voice meanders through the dark morning like a hymn.  Dawn is approaching, yet it is not here.

The moment before dawn. The moment before birth.

The dark. The void. The nothingness.

The sense of being held in Nothing-ness, in Everything-ness. The space we have been taught to fear, but which is the most loving, enveloping space. The space where we can hear. Where we can listen. Where we can see through the eyes of our own inner light. 

I roll over in bed, ready to put my feet on the ground, placing them on the warm, fuzzy blanket. 

The entire bedroom floor is covered with blankets held in place by sticky yoga mats underneath.

She’s old, you see. Her paws sprawl out to the sides sometimes. Her grip on artificial surfaces has let go. Her grip in moss, mud, earth, soil and sand has strengthened.

As the dust of dawn foxtrots gently through the tightly pulled blinds, touching the floor, reflecting off her fur, I see her. Curled up. Her white furry legs crossed. Jaws totally relaxed, breathing, snoozing. Head resting gently on the edge of her orthopaedic bed.

Peace. Magic. Love. Stardust. Gentleness. Listening. Kindness. Holiness. All. Breathing in. Breathing out.

As I open the faucet to splash my hands and face in ice cold water, it drizzles like gemstones landing in the sink. The light is as if from another dimension.  Rich, gentle, blessed. This water. A gift.

 Day one. Every morning anew. A promise. A vow. A vow of presence.

I will give myself to the story being birthed in each breath. The one story springing forth from the song. The song of creation.

“Listen. Listen to the moon. Listen to the stone. Listen to the song. This is Elsa’s Song.”

She on the other side of the veil embrace us both in her magic stride of sacred fierceness. Blessing us.

“We are all blessings”. Elsa’s song begins.

December 1st 2021, Cecilia Götherström

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Rich

IMG_9556

I am rich.

Rich beyond belief,
beyond fathom, I am.

I am because I am rich.

Mother provides for me,
Father keeps me safe,
Brother nurtures me,
Sister sings to me.

Earth is what I am,
what I walk upon,
what lives inside my soul.

Sky is what breathes,
Soil is what bleeds,
Wind is what feels.

Rich I am.

All that I am,
is all that You are.

Star family, Earth family.

Rich I am.

Walk I do.

Forever and ever.
In the Richness of Plenty.

“Did you love today?” she asks before
she gently susses me to sleep.

“Were you grateful today?” he asks when
he closes the velvet around me.

“Did you live today? Live like life itself?”
they ask as they sing me away.

Dawn and dusk.
Dusk and dawn.

Creation.
Gratitude.
Breath.

Did you love today?

I did.

IMG_9343

Cecilia Götherström, June 21st 2015

by

The Song Of Me

Song of me1

The Song of Me,

flies over snow covered mountains,

sings a spring time creek to its cover.

The song of me,

crosses hearts and barriers,

opens, moves and births.

 

The song of me,

is for no one else to sing,

but to blend in to

the song of all of us.

 

The song of birth, of cry, of worship,

of destinations

time and again.

 

The song of me breaks open,

moves crystals and rocks

into blessings.

 

The song of me cracks open,

that which is to be said,

to be done,

to be laid down,

to be rendered,

reunited,

rewed,

regained, retwined, regranded.

 

The song of me,

sings to the eyes of the soul

to the song of the gods

the eyes of the stars.

 

The song of me is the soul,

the spare, the twining twister,

the ever splendid galaxy of tears,

of joy,

of magic,

of serenity,

of wisdom,

of class and doom.

 

The song of me

is mine to sing,

thine to hear,

ours to twine

and twine and twine.

 

The song of me,

is of me strong,

of me being creation,

of me being all.

 

The song of me,

is of All.

 

The song of me

is you,

the you that is not

as me is.

I am

the song of me

 

Divine

 

 

Song of me2
Cecilia Götherström, Gävle 13/3 2015