Peace Thing

 

 

            There was a night. It was heavy, gleaming. The stars hung low in the sky. The forest was hushed, waiting. Myriad hearts beat in land and air and water.
            The mother was awake, drum in hand. She sang a night song. A song of rest and healing. Her soft rhythms were persistent, even beckoning. She had been singing for some time and was deep into her song. Her eyes were closed, and her voice had become mythic.
            Those she served were sleeping. The father, the young ones, the beloved lions, all slept on. Even the mighty bird knew nothing.
            She sighed, opened her eyes and looked around. Her mind was an open question. She was restless, feeling something terribly amiss. There was danger on the land. But where was it? Not here. Somewhere else. Maybe the old earth was in some kind of peril? She had never felt such heaviness.
            Ramona ceased her song. She laid the raven drum aside, she waited. She listened. She became acutely aware of the stars peeking through the canopy of the tree tops over her head. She needed to see them more clearly. There was something there, like a calling. “Yes, the stars,” she thought.
            “Walk,” the stars told her.
            “I will walk,” she said.
            Ramona cradled the raven drum in her left arm again and she began to walk. She almost didn’t feel the ground under her feet. Her feet found their own path. First a drumbeat, then a step, then a drumbeat. One after the other. Step, boom, step, boom, step, on and on, until she passed out of the hidden world of her home. Her feet brought her out into the starlit meadow, near to the world of mankind.
            There was the Gifting Stump. It seemed like a good enough stopping place. Ramona sat on the grass, waiting. She laid the raven drum on the ground before her crossed legs.
            “Sing,” said the stars.
            “I’ll sing,” said she, the mother, she who serves and who is served.
            She sang, and to strengthen her song, she beat her drum. It was a new song to Ramona. It was given to her as she sang. Word by word, it was given. It was the song of the open question. Love sang through the mother, word by word.
            The stars grew close. Their magnitude changed. Ramona’s eyes reflected their brightness as she gazed into the heavens above her. She saw that some of these mighty stars were moving, and she felt no fear, only the waiting.
            She sang, “I am listening.”
            The raven drum spoke its heartbeat song.
            Boom, soft, boom, soft, beating like a heart. It filled the meadow, representing the earth in whole.
            Ramona watched as one of the bright stars grew closer. Its size was hard for her to judge but it seemed to fill much of the sky. Nearer and nearer it came down. The other stars bowed to its appearing, stilled.
            She heard brilliant voices together singing praises of the Maker of heaven and earth.
            “Listen,” said the stars.
            “I’m listening,” said the mother.
            At last the brightest star came before her and filled the meadow with its brilliance. Its form was like a sun, but attenuated, so that she could bear its presence.
            “Peace, Mother, your heart has been heard,” said the voice.
            “I am no one, nothing, why?” said Ramona.
            “A willing vessel of Love will be heard,” said the voice.
            “I felt a weariness over the world,” said Ramona. “I couldn’t sleep.”
            “Fear not, Mother. Love is over all and prevails over all,” continued the voice. “You must hold that peace in your heart. Fear not!”
            “Give me that peace to hold,” said Ramona.
            “It is given, believe it, Mother,” said the voice.
            “I believe,” said Ramona. The light was reflected in her tears, for her heart was very soft.
            “Rejoice,” the light said.
            “I shall rejoice,” said Ramona.
            “Remember,” said the voice.
            Then the light was gone from her presence. She found herself alone in the meadow and she was feeling very drowsy. Dawn wasn’t far away.
            She didn’t want to finish the night out there in the meadow, so she picked up her drum and walked back into the hidden world of the Home Clearing. When she got there she sat for a while by the coals of her fire.
            Since morning was coming she decided to build up the fire even though it was early. She was very sleepy. She sat there yawning and remembering all that had just happened to her.
            Ralph must have noticed that she wasn't in bed, so he came out looking for her.
            “Were you up all night, Mona,” he said.
            “Yes, I guess I was,” she said. “I was singing and time slipped away from me, Baby.”
            “Why don’t you go to bed, Mona. I’ll take care of everything, so you can sleep,” said Ralph. He was already thinking of getting some fish to feed the kids and cats.
            “I will, Ralph. I’ll tell you about the singing later,” said Ramona.
            “It’s a deal,” said Ralph. “Go to bed, Mona!”
            So, she did!

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