The First Frontier Days, Part 1

I’d like to try to tell a story about the prophecies thus far. In this strange country geography is of utmost importance. The power of a place tells the story for you, if you can speak beyond language. There is so much striving, vying to get out, that I cannot know where to begin. The beginning? At what point is the beginning? I’ve already told the story of my dream into being, of how my individual consciousness was brought forth into the universe. I’ve told some stories of my homeland, Neira, but we’re here. The title indicates that I should start here, in the days of the first frontier, when the celtic and galatcian blood came to the ‘new world’ to meet vast forests depopulated by disease brought by the invaders. Some of the people of this land tried to integrate themselves to harmonize with these new brothers.

I’ve already told the stories of the Osage and the Craith. Keepers, and how this dual sacred lineage came to my sister and I through our mother’s parents, so too to my cousins. Here I am at the Gates of Dawn. First they called me Guardian, in explanation to my inability to connect with others. I found my dreamer. He became my first love and my muse, a role he carried for 10 years, until this time, three years ago, when he handed my care over to my angel and replacement muse, the one I have called Raeven. He was the first to break the spell of my first love, in this life. I met my Rainbow Warrior, my love while in tryst with Raeven in the homeland along the Mississippi bluffs. Well, this reminds me of a thought I had last night, those moments when you look upon another, and suddenly, it’s as if the angels are singing. You two are the center of the universe in that moment. The message is, “Pay attention! This is important.” I remember when that happened with my creator. I remember the shirt he was wearing, the feeling, the place. I remember when this first happened with my luv, perhaps it was not the first time I saw him, or even the first he introduced himself, but some cold and cloudy November morning those sparkling blue eyes drew the vortex around us for a moment in time. The wind tossed everything but the light held in the space between us.

Do you have a fella?

This is later some sunny mid-morning as I am excavating a feature. Isn’t the tungsten ring on my finger apparent? It’s almost warm and my gloves are off for the delicate work.

Yes, of course.

And I’d just seen him for the last time that past Saturday. I was still aglow from it.

Or maybe it was at 11:11 on Halloween. I was standing smoking with Riverwest Adam. I had pulled out my phone to check the time.

It’s not quite witching hour.

My future Rainbow Warrior was standing just outside of our circle, hesitant, shy of the MKE vibe.

Jubal pulls out his phone, 11:11 February 27th, 2010. Setting the alarm is cheating.

1:01 a.m. October 1, 2009 I hug Zakary goodnight after writing creation. The Sirians sent me script. I keep it still with the rose petal I found in Mt. Shasta that was for him on my altar. Perhaps I think the rose petal was about One Love and all that transpired from the night on Panther Meadow as the milky way arched above us, a transition, a way point to spring, the gates of dawn. Antelope Girl – the morning star – Venus and Laughing Horse in Colorado with the Golden Aspen.

Last spring found me near Cater of Diamonds in Arkansas. After finding my first star children beside my creator and soul sister, at least the first who remembered who they were.

The dream I had at the Plieades meteor showers at Trout Creek in August. The dream that astounded me. It was real, so real. This was love. Real love. There was the meadow of Golden Aspen in Colorado. We were in the park in St. Louis in the fall and I had arrived early on my way to Chicago, nervous. Perhaps to find funds to purchase the Art House.

Teagan wants to stay here. He is in love with the black walnut tree. He likes to look out the window to the B.P. and peek through the oaks out front to wave at me on mornings in his mother’s room as I head to work for the last time at the Glen before going to California. He helped my soul sister, Ms. Emily, and I node Riverwest more strongly. Melissa, Eric, and Jesse added to it. Ness and Dorma on a magic night in October, after the transmission towers in Fenton, 1-2-20.

OMG! That’s 2012 backwards, well 12, and then 20. But you know what I mean?

I say unto you and unto me, only the truth shall set us free.

So the story goes, I sent my luv a shooting star by wishing he could be with me to experience the beauty and amazing wonder of Trout Creek.

These nights in Golden Pond as I shudder, cry, and vibrate with the new energies and renewing our link, I fly over Dunsmuir, the Sacramento headwaters, Elk Flat, Mt. Shasta city, Ask Creek, Trout Creek, Arcata, Eureka, Willow Creek, Horse Linto, the Trinity, Scott Mountain, Scott Flat, Wheeler Ranch, Jone’s Valley, Spenser Springs, Panther Meadow, the McCloud… checking… big leaf maple… cherry blossoms… ponderosa… white fir… doug fir… incense cedar… manzanita… bitterbrush… sage… and SUNSHINE divine. All of it in seconds. Good. We’re still good. I want to go home. Is it home?

What about Summit County? I return to the Aspen meadow. Surely, next fall we would be working together. I would fly out to Colorado.

Now I am here.

This fall. The mountain meadow ringed by Golden Aspen with Antelope Girl and Laughing Horse pulling down the sky and creating creation? A full mandala of the cycle?

Or St. Louis and the rushed expectancy of being at a breakthrough at the gates of dawn?

And whatever happened to the Hopi family that adopted me in Walapi after End Game? In another world I went to Albuquerque or Santa Fe to wait for the message, to go to my new teacher. 3 years ago we were frightened. Our phones were tapped. So my creator intervened and called on the covenant (the Emerald covenant?) for Raeven to finish my apprenticeship. He offered this to Taylor and Bob. He was desperate. We all were, to avert End Game. Later that spring, I played and called upon the nation of Gaia’s people to dispel the darkness that had taken me, the darkness of the demon spawn. The Meadow clan. I had mirrored the girl of that lineage, but she claimed to be bond in a cocoon.

I met with the Saphire dragon briefly at Lakehead. Threats of war were still tense. We await the jade dragon’s emergence without the declaration of war. The Mintakian council sealed their allegiance with the Federation when my luv helped me open the Orion/Horsehoe Nebula stargate at Mt. Shasta this summer.

Maybe it’s just another mask in the hallway.

I was scared of the seraphim, but when he told me this. I laughed and knew he was right.

And before the throne there was a sea of glass, like crystal, and in the center and around the throne, four living creatures full of eyes in front and behind. The first creature was like a lion, and the second creature like a calf, and the third creature had a face like that of a man, and the fourth creature was like a flying eagle. Each of the four living creatures had six wings and were full of eyes inside and out. Without stopping day or night they were saying, “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was, who is, and who is coming.

And so I laughed some more when I figured out the revelation and rapture. Which is still not quite translating. The machine elves of the plant consciousness were awakened in me by his sunshine and I borrow the aquamarine dragon to fly along the new earth pacific coast. He claimed it wasn’t his, and so I thought it must’ve been a present to the Guardian Alliance from the Federation, a gift after I had been to the cafe in the new Scaramento.

It grows late and he is calling me. I think he likes the ease of distance shortened. I find it more difficult to get to council so far away. I think that is what the maps are for. And the book. That book with the INCREDIBLE inks which I had a scanned copy of somewhere, somewhere. With the mysterious script. And he used it like an oracle and oriented the maps wrong, according to me. I told him how the book went. Upside down and from right to left. But it seems to be working out his way.

So strange.

So captain, we need to gather the compass, the maps, the book, the alidade, me and if you like the GPS, which will be horribly off when we need it, because the earthquakes and magnetic shift are still in non-aversion status. I just hope we get out of here before the Independence one rips again. And god knows I better hear it or have angel intervention and not be on that damn bridge if I am still here. How I became a piece of navigation equipment on the ship is another mystery and another story, that perhaps will be elucidated further by the solstice.

So is it the riverboat or the old saloon on the first frontier tonight?