Thursday, April 30, 2020

Rabbit Hole Ramblings - The Earth Is Not My Home



My Dad used to say this to the UFO Abductees that he was about to interview. He would say: "What does this statement I'm about to say mean to you?....The Earth is  not my home."Some would nod sliently, some would cry, well most would cry and others would bow there heads. relived to finally be able to admit it to somebody." But everyone he asked answered "Yes" to his question.

The Earth is not my home.

I'm not from here...earth I mean...I'm okay with it, I mean its an insane place to hang out but still I like it. Most people a good, and kind, and care and respect one another. And oh the magic here is cracker jack full!! I do love this Earth and what she has to offer and thats why I came. Well not the only reason. I came to save the children. Sounds lofty, but really that's why I came. I came to dance. I came to grow the "White Raven" not what I'd call the dance but Elders of the Sechelt Salish whispered close so ears could hear it. No matter, what they call me, I am the Great White Bird, huge in the Skys. I was sent by my people ~The Children of The Sun. I volunteer for this insane quest and achieved my mission 24 years ago and now and now what? I just stick around for fun. Do you believe that? Hahaha. No, I have a family, I have children. I stick around because its a very lovely place.


More to come.

Duende Naddred 2020 (c)

Friday, April 10, 2020

Rabbit Hole Ramblings - Pink Moon




Pink Moon

The Frogs started singing, calling the Pink Moon, calling calling as she came over the coastal moutains. Big and huge, passing over the Coastal Mountains, high high above the rain forest, above the frogs, above the silence of the frantic pandemic. The beauty the beauty if we listened, we could see the magic, we could hear the magic, shit you can even smell the magic if you listen to the silence of the pink moon, the passing moon, the biggest in our time. The frogs, sing in multitudes, crushing all sound into a peaceful cacophony, wild free whispering of the magic, blue in nature, wild and true. Just frogs under the Pink Moon, huge to the frogs and most pandemics freaking out in hysteria, wild but they appear not to listen, they lost that a long time ago under the control.

The Frogs speak to me, I hear them as I let go and go to the quiet place, deep inside and far off into the universe, home to my people, through the electric blue rabbit hole, from the dance, from the Thunder Bird, the serpent, I let go now as I did then 10 minutes and a life time. The Pink Moon every 1000 years, comes as she did before, we good friends, seen eachother before, now and then. The Frogs, bull headed, wild in nature call my name cause they know me, that’s what she my elder said, I believe her, now as I did then. I let go, deep into the dream finding my way into the quiet place naturally, its in my nature, your nature, its there and here and in the land of crazy walls, cities and cars, its there singing your name, its in your nature, my nature to hear. Breath the air of change, take the leap, with my little friends, go inside and find the quiet space, the space the hole, black and dark, open and free, the light is easy to see, if you close those and open those eyes.

Flapping Wings, thunder skies, reaching past the mountains, past the stars, a million light years away, through the dark to my people but don’t stop listening listening to the singing the crazy little creatures, frogs who keep the secrets of change, living in all worlds, all elements, like me, like you, free to go were ever I you want, if we can only drop deep into the rabbit hole in the night sky.

The Pink Moon passing as the singing cry's quieter in the night and later silence, into the witches hour, the knowings of time when more unseen creatures stroll out to create fright to the simple with simple sight. Fear strikes the pandemic, they giggle with delight, its there time, I embrace them, I know them from company late moon pink at night. Its not hard if you dare to listen to close your eyes and see, the quiet inside. Oh how they delight close to the scared mountain, from tribes long past, so many secerts no one wants to hold onto, no one, alive and dead, dead is alive always as the frogs sings into the quietness they know not to go on all night.

Its later as the Pink Moon travels home, coyotes squealing with there joyous madness, one, two, three…more? Yes more a lot more, or less, I prefer more, the witches, the white shawled, the medicine of the land, dance the dance, coyote back to front, the giggles, the twirls, the spins around my bed, I go into the quiet, with my eyes closed shut wide open. God I love this world the world unknown by the fear of the pandemic feared to listen, to close the lids open sweating faces, anxiety dripping down there faces. They come, they come to eat us…hahaha we’re all going die…I’ve got a way, a door, a hole by a crazy rabbit in a psychedelic world, child’s play to dream the dream that will lead you me home. Are you listening? The sky Thunders the wings soar into and over the scared mountain under and above the Pink Moon, I’ve known before, we all have, have you forgot, it’s the coyote game to come and go, to die and live. It’s a birth right remember ancestors knowings keeping the secerts they want to give up. Back wards forwards, up but down deep inside. Late late into a night Pink Moon large and bright. The Coyote squeal the spirits joyously through into the dark. Yes its all dark, don’t look, don’t open close your eyes, that’s what they say, them, church religion, god, you don’t know, you’ll never know unless we tell you government god. They know the lie, but keep you in the dark, see, you don’t have to go to far…just a simple step into fear, no worries you will come out the other side, and I’ll be waiting in the pandemic of silence, to keep you safe.

Frogs Sings, Coyotes Squeal and the Pink Moon Passes, Passes in the night and the Spirits dances, ancestors, witches, the magic, unseen until you close our eyes.




Duende Naddred 2020