“Birds of a feather, flock together
under any sky or changing weather
for we are all sisters and brethren
a family of light that shares this treasure.”
All across the Quest, a theme has remained, that of the rising wings of our shared Awakening, a resurgence to the wilderness of our spirit in service to the Land. From the shamanic wildfringes of the deserts of the Spine of the Dragon, to the Centers of Light, the realms of Faerie to New Earth Temples and beyond, back to the garden of the Mother in the isles of Hawaii, I have witnessed the totems of the Hawk, the Eagle and the Condor, of the Owl and the Raven, of Peacocks and Crows, and their guardians in the incarnate.
Unfolding across the living dreamscape of the Akasha, the energies of the bird tribe rose to the surface in the Mythica.
It was a realm of shared wonder, of relationship to the feathered friends and the subtle messages felt from wind to skin and deeper still…
Like when during the events of “Resurrection” in 2017, when the hawk offered itself to the collective ceremony and rebirth, as Kim Doyle embodied her aspect of Avian Angel, holding space of unconditional love for the gathering of the tribe within the vestiges of the labyrinth on the day of Easter.
Such were precious affirmations, that our wingtips touch the sky, that the intelligence of nature comes through us…
They were different times on the Quest, with bird feathers in my hair and owl wings on my altar, with smoke from prayers by fire and dust from dancing cross dunes all over my attire. It was my shape for a time, to serve something larger, though I could not yet see it till the scope of time would widen.
It was as Jerry Strongheart once said to me, “See with Hawk’s sight. Rise above and all becomes clear.”
So what would I learn from the winged ones?
From the owl, stillness, patience and how to see through the darkness. From the hawk, how to widen perspective and let go of limitation, to trust my wings and soar. From the condor, how to bring together what seemed as opposites into Unity. And from the peacock, how to shine without shame. In the shimmering black feathers of the raven, how even in darkness one can find the rainbow.
It reminds me of driving through the vastness of the valley, listening to the music of Deya Dova.
“Are we not birds of the same feather?“Return of the Bird Tribe” By Deya Dova
Is this not prophecy?
I rise up for I remember
All of Creation
Is inside of me…
The bird tribes are rising.”
And with it, a great time of purification, of finding our tribe and coming back to the sacred Land. I reflect, to find that sacred bond between the four legged, the two, and the winged ones, that our ears may turn to the wind once again, descending from static backs to indigenous senses and the cunning that lay in our ancient reception of the goodness of the Garden of earthly delights.