The earth feeds vitality as each fiber touches the powdered dirt. Music fuels motion. Joy invigorates the stride. I am full.
Without searching, Their face reaches through the surrounding foliage, a seemingly indiscernible shape reconfigure Their features for me to see. The broad nose, wide mouth and grandeur of presence radiates peace.
"Hello there," I stop my prancing. It is only through my connection to my own vitality that They make themselves known to me. Climbing through the plethora of undergrowth, I approach. We converse from an ancient memory. Intimacy is immediate.
"What happened to you?" I reach into the being's memory. The sky although currently clear, crisp blue turns torrentially stormy. The view darkens in hues of grey that predict tumult. T resonate with the era. Early in Earth's incarnation, we were here. A great battle has ensued. The Sentinel, reveals their commitment to securing the Love into the creation of Mother Gaia. At all cost to Their physical presence, They and those in Their family have anchored the Love by sacrificing Their body. The Sentinel declares that the mountains of the Black Hills in Custer, SD were formed in this battle.
The reverie breaks instantly. I stand again on the bank of the stream with warm sunlight playing with shadow on the Sentinel's features. My heart remembers. The memory of eons in service to Gaia. This is my family. There is much to process. I promise to return.
The Sentinel comes to me spontaneously. We create an etheric body to compliment Their enormous head. Strength and purpose, dormant for a many millennia ground into the iron core of Mother. The Black Hills ring/vibrate/tone the release of grief. The loss of Native life, the people, the animals, the interconnected wen of life altered into obscurity is severely mourned. Gaia begins to release sorrow and invite compassion to initiate the transformation through forgiveness for Herself and for her offspring.
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