Articles by Subject › Spirituality › El Ensueño del pajaro de la medianoche / The Dreaming of the Midnight Bird

El Ensueño del pajaro de la medianoche / The Dreaming of the Midnight Bird

"Light from a Sun Absolute, touching the waters of silent being way above the abyss, the darkness, the confusion, way above the shadows of the world, way above the concerns of consciousness. The light, unseen, unconceived touches the waters of immense presence, impregnating the waters with a reflection that hits the eye, the hair, the skin of those messengers descending in vehicles of light, vehicles of high pitched vibration of electricity, vehicles of lighting strikes that hit, that touch the highest point of my consciousness, way above the point where a thought begins to whisper itself into existence. This highest point is hit by the lighting of the lesser vehicles of the Angelic Host, burning everything in its path, changing life, molding, burning, destroying, dissolving, dissolving this dross that has accumulated in this mind, in this heart, in these bowels, leaving only a trail of wonderment, of ignorance, of doubt, of uncertainty, removing all the shadows, destroying all that is not real. Nothing there to touch anymore. I’ve already called the highest presence, I’ve already described the pathway it follows, I’ve already exposed my deepest shadow to the lighting strike. I’m burning inside my back, my brain; my skin boils and burns, every gland in my body—it’s been dissolved. Only through Silence, the intense quiet attention, can I withstand the rushing of heat that flows through. Only through the word that comes from the heart can I ever release a portion of what burns from above." – from "The Womb of My Mother," 2-4-10 Telling by Koyote the Blind

Existing in all corners, in all hallways, pathways. Taking the form of a Dragon, of a Man, of a fish, of a four legged, and its eyes, its hiss never changing, that hiss being the sound that carries it through. The Shaman, the bodhisattvas, the plumed worm, the Nahual. Passing by echoing with its loud screech, breaking the glass veil that was once called an eye.

The ancient ones having played this ancient ball game before. Aiming the ball at what stands as the ring of power, that ring causing heat in man. Aiming to put the ball into the center of the ring, only creating a lineage of ball players, and through this game create a vibrant field a force that wakes a pulling force that rises the heat in themselves and those who watch creating an out-of-body-being-like state. Each time being a mirror, brothers, twin brothers, that purposely give themselves up in the game only to give make a rise, a higher awareness in those who watch.

Where do I begin, if there is no end, for this bird, this winged Midnight bird, it is everywhere. This dark bat, its fangs and red eyes, it leaving a tale, tail, through every place it passes through. The Chupacabra, Dracula, the Thunderbird, Big Foot, the Beast, Horse Man, El Catrin, these names for this creature that roams through the dark night, and they tell that this bird with its claws takes creatures from the face of the earth, and that captured prey never to be seen again, and the bird rejuvenating itself through that bloody sacrifice.

Its home, shaped upward, pointed to the heavens. The city of Pyramids, the Volcano, the Cave, all the same, one triptych.

All the stories, the tales, talking about the same thing, talking about the hiss, the screech of the bird. Feeling only the presence of the Midnight Bird’s shadow immerse, rise, and only being able come close to see it through a mirror reflection. Being electrocuted only to serve as the source, as the heart of this Dark-haired, Red-eyed, pale skin bird. Its pale body see-through, with a painful and uncomfortable rush of thunderbolts burning inside its clear membrane body. This Bird, the Angel of Death, coming from the Sun Absolute voyaging as a bolt of electricity in the midnight sky bringing forth the clear white light that flashes before the dreaming begins and the moment before waking. The bird in its electric voyage causing radiations, shocking the spectators, and the passers-by that surround the courtyard of the ancient ball game.

 Luciernaga, Spirit Radio

www.tequihuafoundation.org