Bora born
The butterfly room _
Sitting here at my desk
soft breeze through the window drifting
recalling the time there's a full moon tonight
three years ago to the moon this all happened.
And if that's not all in three days time
we will share the same date
the full moon shone on that fateful Sunday.
Why this is, for it never was planed
to write this tale in this way.
In the late afternoon light
burnt the soft orange glow
of a late setting sun reflecting.
Butterflies fluttered in the room that night
with the smell of a musky dry season about him.
She arrived there with grace
to stand before him
in an open weave of see through material.
In the soft fading light
with her golden blonde hair
in cascades of curls down her shoulders.
She stood there quite still
arms relaxed by her sides
her head just slightly tilted.
So demure was her look
her lips seemed to say
'Moontime is my time _ for so long you have waited.'
She had told him before
and would let him know
if in him she ever was interested.
He had asked, 'How would I know _ what were the signs?'
Her reply, 'You will know when I give of myself fully.'
And all this while were the words of the baker
whirling around and around in his head.
Words that would prove
to later impact
on the life of this young adept.
Perhaps it was the swimming that day
that gave her this feeling of sensual well being.
In her own time no less, lifted her own dress
then lay naked on the table before him.
The flutter of lost light
the smell of incense smouldering
with the melody from crickets echoing.
Enticing the sounds and smells of the bush
to the room, that balmy evening.
Soft golden light
on her firm olive skin.
In a soft slow spiral, he applied white flower oil
to open the pores
preparing her gently
then covering.
A balance through the feet
with a prayer of protection
in an atmosphere of raw washed emotion.
Inviting the unseen ones to attend
drawing near with hands of light healing.
The veil drifts down
eyes mist, felt breath now slowing.
Mind moves back, spirit within
drifts forward on the breath
the rhythm of life from source felt moving.
The body becomes the vessel
for this golden light flowing
to see her only as spirit
dressed in a body, in need of releasing.
He worked the back the full length
she rolled over, not asking for cover.
The thing is he needed some
for the massage to have
some chance of completion.
He covered her extraordinary body
with towels in appropriate places.
Then continued his work
with a full head and shoulders
only the ladies received.
The speed, pressure and direction you take
should entirely be guided by spirit.
Using fingers, palms, elbows and arms
with imagination
the tools to allow use of.
The over riding goal
of empathy for the soul
shields the person you are working with.
Integrity the key
where temptation may be
to just walk away, if you can't handle it.
He cracked her back while she sat
sitting sideways on the table.
Then finished off with tender touch to the neck
with temptation to rise in him.
The temptation that came
didn't last for that long
to recede as it had risen
as he recalled the teaching
in the native tradition
of the bird tribe' s
Buffalo Calf Woman.
It was nearing three hours
her open body now
so supple as could be.
His only wish was, to find someone
who would give
such a massage for free.
He almost suggested a sensual touch
to highlight an exotic night.
No doubt he wanted to be with her
to squeeze his soul with delight.
He finished with a balance and prayer
as she lay there fully covered.
A golden towell her full length
warmed by the light
to leave in a time of her own.
The cool night air
found its' way, to caress
her body and mind with feeling.
The symphony of spheres
tungsten angels ever near
on silent wings of
_ butterfly healing _
- O -
© 2004 _ Nhawrr yirrpa
soft breeze through the window drifting
recalling the time there's a full moon tonight
three years ago to the moon this all happened.
And if that's not all in three days time
we will share the same date
the full moon shone on that fateful Sunday.
Why this is, for it never was planed
to write this tale in this way.
In the late afternoon light
burnt the soft orange glow
of a late setting sun reflecting.
Butterflies fluttered in the room that night
with the smell of a musky dry season about him.
She arrived there with grace
to stand before him
in an open weave of see through material.
In the soft fading light
with her golden blonde hair
in cascades of curls down her shoulders.
She stood there quite still
arms relaxed by her sides
her head just slightly tilted.
So demure was her look
her lips seemed to say
'Moontime is my time _ for so long you have waited.'
She had told him before
and would let him know
if in him she ever was interested.
He had asked, 'How would I know _ what were the signs?'
Her reply, 'You will know when I give of myself fully.'
And all this while were the words of the baker
whirling around and around in his head.
Words that would prove
to later impact
on the life of this young adept.
Perhaps it was the swimming that day
that gave her this feeling of sensual well being.
In her own time no less, lifted her own dress
then lay naked on the table before him.
The flutter of lost light
the smell of incense smouldering
with the melody from crickets echoing.
Enticing the sounds and smells of the bush
to the room, that balmy evening.
Soft golden light
on her firm olive skin.
In a soft slow spiral, he applied white flower oil
to open the pores
preparing her gently
then covering.
A balance through the feet
with a prayer of protection
in an atmosphere of raw washed emotion.
Inviting the unseen ones to attend
drawing near with hands of light healing.
The veil drifts down
eyes mist, felt breath now slowing.
Mind moves back, spirit within
drifts forward on the breath
the rhythm of life from source felt moving.
The body becomes the vessel
for this golden light flowing
to see her only as spirit
dressed in a body, in need of releasing.
He worked the back the full length
she rolled over, not asking for cover.
The thing is he needed some
for the massage to have
some chance of completion.
He covered her extraordinary body
with towels in appropriate places.
Then continued his work
with a full head and shoulders
only the ladies received.
The speed, pressure and direction you take
should entirely be guided by spirit.
Using fingers, palms, elbows and arms
with imagination
the tools to allow use of.
The over riding goal
of empathy for the soul
shields the person you are working with.
Integrity the key
where temptation may be
to just walk away, if you can't handle it.
He cracked her back while she sat
sitting sideways on the table.
Then finished off with tender touch to the neck
with temptation to rise in him.
The temptation that came
didn't last for that long
to recede as it had risen
as he recalled the teaching
in the native tradition
of the bird tribe' s
Buffalo Calf Woman.
It was nearing three hours
her open body now
so supple as could be.
His only wish was, to find someone
who would give
such a massage for free.
He almost suggested a sensual touch
to highlight an exotic night.
No doubt he wanted to be with her
to squeeze his soul with delight.
He finished with a balance and prayer
as she lay there fully covered.
A golden towell her full length
warmed by the light
to leave in a time of her own.
The cool night air
found its' way, to caress
her body and mind with feeling.
The symphony of spheres
tungsten angels ever near
on silent wings of
_ butterfly healing _
- O -
© 2004 _ Nhawrr yirrpa
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The butterfly room _
The butterfly room _
