Butterfly Language for Caterpillars – Soulmate Seeking with Alysse Aallyn

Dawn: Relief: “the Treehouse”

“Tense, Relax”

In Dawn we are between two worlds; our feet in night and our heads in the future yet to come. Sometimes we can’t wait to shake off the darkness; even pretend it never happened; other times we are sluggishly unwilling to give ourselves over to the cares of daylight hours. The ancients celebrated each “return” of the sun’s light as a religious and philosophical triumph; a sign that the mighty ones have forgiven us the past and will allow us to continue the grand experiment of life for another day.

There is a special quality of light to Dawn when ordinary objects look different; magical, even the air feels different, full of portent and excitement. Often we find ourselves wishing this transitional period would last forever. Dawn is the Future itself; perhaps more thrilling as we contemplate its possibilities than when we begin the hard slog of making them come true.

Dawn signals a freshening, a slackening of tension. We confronted Night alone; now we are going to get some company. We were all keyed up – now we are going to get a break. This can be interpreted as a Reward – finally! Some little crumb to keep us going. When we have been trying so hard and are allowed to relax, it’s almost as if a sense of shock sets in.

We’re so exhausted from all our effort we don’t even want to TRY to figure out what’s REALLY going on. We just want to roll with it, for now. Get our breath back. Recover our mojo. We are plunged into a new dream-like state of particular value to Skryers hoping to Discern their future: Day Dreaming. As our “night terrors” subside, we are flooded with images, ideas, memories, yearnings, disconnected at first. Go with it.

What do these visions say to you? How do you feel about it? It is in moments like these that we may get some unexpected insight. We may realize that the high-status Soulmate we THOUGHT we wanted (Financial bro! Super-model! Sports star!) is not what we want AT ALL. We feel new yearnings, for someone more in tune with our REAL lifestyle and our cherished, secret sense of self.

As dawn breaks, the game re-sets. We get to start again! Allow yourself to celebrate all the fresh possibilities suddenly poured so generously into your lap.

THE TREEHOUSE

Eager I was to initial your flesh
Mark it mine forever
A fairly short forever as I recall.
Trilling up my drainpipe

Your hot unvaried song –
“Who will know?”
We were the ones who did not know.
The treehouse was our yearbook –

 Memory’s coffin; there
 You swallowed me whole
A circus act, a disappearing act 
None saw

Insects feasted on our
Unwatched blood
Bursting to the rhythm
Of our bursting.

If I mistake your face these days
In a flower-field of faces
Shifting to moon pressure
Swaying to wind pressure

Listing according to laws unknown
Count me not along your abacus of traitors;
I am she. The blood still flows, still glows
In the treehouse.