Adrian McNamara
Jul 23, 2017 · 2 min read

Children of the Earth and Sun

1: Song of the dawn.

I wake with the earth under my body, clothed in its essence.

I hear the animals awake with me and know them intimately.

In the light of dawn I see my kin, kin to which I am imbued through skin who are one with me and one with the dust from which which we have all arisen.

We rise, the children of the earth and sun, naked but fully clothed in the essence of being.

Every stick, stone, sound, every breath of air, ray of light, shadow and prism entwined with us, within us, to sing breath into life.

We talk, talk of the day where not a word is wasted. A day unfurled through songs sung by ancestors for countless generations.

Bright smiles of collective joy around a morning fire as the lore is bought to light through the rhythm of language as old as the ground from where it originated.

We collectively venerate the unfolding of time in knowing, for all is known in the song of the dreaming.

I am in awe of the long dawn shadows as they show the elongated imprint of nocturnal visitors read through impressions left in the sand. I know each visitor intimately through totem, be it my own or those of kin in legend or of direct descent.

I know the passage we travel that day, and we leave behind our place of stay that night with only the dust disturbed and know that it will be moved by natural forces to leave no trace of our being.

So begins our journey.

Adrian McNamara

Written by

Sharing visions from the ley line of the twisting veil.