Day 156: Raven’s Call

Raven’s Call

Knight alone travels

Through crystalline snow mounds, high

Every step frozen

Sorrow’s songbird weeps

Sings sweet memories of days

Without branch or sky

Starlit amber eyes

Rest in slivered moonlight ray

Distant love divides


Limp maple leaves swept

Between piles of summer past

Where lost beauty rests


Vines linger and twist

Cedar choked in living green

Strong, tall and near dead


Stones cross river cold

Stuck and stagnant in iced blue

A hard fragile path


Raven bride dances

Dark veil swaying in harsh wind

Alone mourning wings


Clipped by hope of sun

As summer of fairy dreams

Hid behind shadows


Rose garden scent flows

Message to lost wanderer

Mistook for thrown thorns

The thunder loud roars

Lion in imprisoned den

Sky, dark blood stained paws

Fights this dark of knight

When about daylight beckons

Pure crystal turned black


Still she sings, raven

Her voice unmoved by winter

Calling sunlight home


by Samantha Craft

June 2012

Day 155: Rose-Petal Bride

source unknown

I broke up with normal sometime back. And today I marry the misfit. I am a misfit. I am a person who is not suited or is unable to adjust to the circumstances of his or her particular situation, that situation being a world in which there is manipulation, intentional harm, lies, judgment, ridicule and actions that cause hurt, rejection, and despair.

I like the misfit I am. I like that I stand for justice. I appreciate that I stand for transformation. I have pain in my interior and exterior, a fragile structure so it seems. But I am strong. I am intense. With an intensity and power to affect the world.

Rose-Petal Bride

Today I am bride to all misfits

I marry them all

I embrace their radiating beauty

I say I do

I vow eternity at their side

I wed those who strive for betterment and love

Who question the existing state of affairs

The bravest souls of all

The ones shaking in their boots with fear

Shaking so hard that they long to retreat and hide

But they don’t

They force themselves to stand upfront, straight and center and show their true colors

Oh, how I admire these misfits

My better half

And my equals

With their humbled hearts and humbled souls, and all the wounds they carry

How I admire their drive, their visions, and their limitless ability to pick themselves back up and carry on

The greatest of men are those that have the hugest of hearts, feel the knife of rejection and judgment, know they are different, but embrace this difference, this grand uniqueness to make a transformation in the world

I hold the misfits in the grandest of light today

Embrace their collective existence

Embrace their endeavors, humanity, and spirit

And offer my hand in comfort

May the misfits rise and know we do not need to adjust to the unjust

Rise now all misfits

I give you my promise of loyalty and admiration

I make you my own

You are the miracle of today

The bride and groom of tomorrow

How I marvel your veil of brilliance, creativity, and ability to continue onward in a place so often filled with trickery

How I love your tuxedo of light and gown of wisdom’s pearls

You are the answer: you and your dreams and desires

Follow them

Walk on the ocean

And I will follow you across our rose-petal path

Day 154: Forbidden Quake

Forbidden Quake

You are my cherished blanket from the youth of yesterdays

Soft and angelic, crushed in scent of celestial echoes

As stripped cherub, I curl placidly into the grooves of your cotton kisses

Locked in silence between the touch of poetic eyes

Yours and mine, blended in cradled rapid whirling angst

Able to touch only within the dreams of treasured midnight hours

Draped as wild virgin surging beneath your ocean mantle

Opal-aqua, evergreen, woodland thick and meadow wide

Water to water, shore to shore, oak roots to trickling gumdrops of soil’s moisture

Beneath me you rest, shadowed by this caller, sprawled out in innocence

Pillowed between bedazzled hunger and the starched sheets of reality

This gift made perfect for the beholder, a birthday suit tailored for one

And stretched through the fading image of fear into fountain tingles

Splashing, nibbles of magenta magic, intermingle with berry coated cake

Wear me, this mangled dress of charm, dancing beneath your cherry light

Wear me, upon your heart’s lips, a sensual memory of glossy bright

Your forbidden treat, the cream in the drink of life swirled round you

Taste what is before you, before the bell awakes, and the layers are worn thin

And waxy remnants scorch the naked bed where flamed burned through

Come hither, pulsing knight of mystery, I bid you unravel your threads

So you may weave again your rainbow colors into this quaking mettle of desire

Day 153: Call Me Sunshine

A song I wrote this morning to play on my guitar today. Inspired by my friends I have met through blogging. I love you all so much and am ever so thankful for your beauty. ~ Sam

Call Me Sunshine

Call me sunshine, call me darling

Call me river flowing through

Call me angel, call me heaven

Call me lovely stream of blue

Let me whisper in your morning

Let me tickle you at night

Let me rest outside your window

Let me garnish you in white

I am sister, I am brother

I am sunlight, I am sin

I am answer, I am question

I am silence on the wind

Watch me fly now, to the valley

Where the secrets never die

Watch me fly now, to the mountains

Where we both can touch the sky

Carry onward, through the grassland

Carry onward, through the brush

March in rhythm, to the seasons

Of our nature’s gentle touch

Of our mothers, of our fathers

Of our lovely beating hearts

Take my hand now, take my stories

Join together, what was apart

We are truth now, we are glory

We are beauty evermore

Fear no longer, fear no troubles

Call me sunshine you adore

I am sister, I am brother

I am sunlight, I am sin

I am answer, I am question

I am silence on the wind

Day 152: Sometimes When We Touch

 “I’m just another writer still trapped within my truth.” ~ Dan Hill

Sometimes when I dream, the honesty is too much.  Sometimes when I dream, I travel into the life and spirit of a friend. Sometimes strangers visit me. Always, always people come, in all forms, with all types of messages. And we touch.

Recently, I’ve had two friends visit in my dreams, just in this last six days. Both dreams were filled with extreme emotion, both dreams had anxiety, both involved an urgency. When I awake from dreams such as these, I am left with a residue, a film in my spirit, something that remains, the remnants of what was shared with me. A streak in the glass of my vision I can’t wipe clean.

If I am fortunate enough to confirm the happening in the dream, and make a connection, and find some validity in discovering what I sensed actually occurred in real life, I am able to discharge and remove some of the energy. If not, sometimes I take on the feelings of the other person, become overly concerned about something I do not understand and cannot even pinpoint. I may feel a rush of panic, fear, or injustice. I might weep. I might laugh. I might become hyper focused. I might hibernate; attempting to disrobe the feelings, only to emerge still weighed down and lost. I take on this energy, as much as I take on the dreams, without knowing how or why, and without knowing how to stop.

Sometimes I want to break down and cry. Sometimes I have to close my eyes and hide. The emotions are so overwhelming. I feel like I’ve been opened up and had another’s spirit poured into me. At times I become that person. At times I understand the person more than myself.

I dreamt once, years ago, of my long time friend. She was stretched out on a car and pointing to her kidneys and kept saying, “I need a bladder operation; the doctor told me I need a bladder operation.” I called my friend the next morning, and sure enough she had just found out she required surgery related to the tubing above her bladder.

Long ago, while I was napping my grandmother started wafting above my bed, a ghostly apparition draped in an aqua-colored dress. Swaying back and forth, an inch below the bedroom ceiling, she kept repeating the same phrase:  “Wake up.  Get off the phone.  I am waiting for a man from Egypt to call.” This made absolutely no sense to me, as I was sound asleep some two hundred miles away from Grandma, and I most certainly wasn’t on the telephone.  Still dreaming, and wanting desperately to get some rest, I looked up at Grandma and answered, “But I’m not on the phone.  I’m taking a nap.”

Grandma continued on, a stream of blue, weaving herself back and forth in my room, badgering me to get off the telephone.  Having found no luck, after I placed two pillows over my head to block out her voice, I sat up and screamed, “If you leave me alone, I’ll call you when I wake up.  Go away and let me sleep!”  On my words, Grandma vanished.

Within the hour I phoned my grandmother.  After a few minutes on the phone, I delicately described my dream to her, thinking at some point she’d say I wasn’t making any sense, and that would be the end of the discussion.  Surprisingly, Grandma responded, without pause for breath, “You’re a witch! I’ve been sitting by the phone waiting for a man from Egypt to call me about his interest in buying my house.  How did you know? Actually, I need to get off the phone now.  He might be trying to call.”

Years ago, I dreamt that two of my teaching colleagues would be going to Japan by the end of the year. They both came to my dream together and told me. That year both were surprised to learn they were traveling to Japan. One was accepted in an over-seas teaching program; the other unexpectedly was invited by a host family. Another time an old woman, a stranger,  came to me in my dream very upset. She said that my mother was going through her items and taking them, keeping them for herself. She showed me the room where the items were spread out. She showed me my mother holding her things. I told my mother the next day, and sure enough my mother had been to a friend’s house and had collected several items from her friend’s mom whom had just died.

There are so many visits, I could go on and on: a family drowned on the beach, my future house and the owners of the house, my future employer, my car accident, my grandfather’s car accident, my mother-in-law’s cancer, my friend house hunting, the person dying in the car off the highway, my husband’s co-worker getting married and denying it, my son’s karate teacher getting engaged, friends divorcing, friends weeping on couches … many various people visiting me to tell me about their lives.

When I was very little, animals visited me and showed me their death. Usually my pets, but once a friend’s bunny came in my dream. The animals usually died just like they showed me within seven days. Once my canary was slashed under the eye by a stray cat. Once my dog died on the Fourth of July after jumping a fence. The dreams came true, just as I had witnessed. Thank goodness I was able to tell my mother the night of the dreams, which then I called nightmares. She was at least able to validate my experience. To show me my dreams were coming true and I wasn’t insane.

Interestingly, it seems lately the more I share and write, and the more I am not afraid to be authentic and honest, the more these dreams and feelings are coming. And the more I’m visited.  I don’t mind the visits for the most part. I feel honored and know this gift or ability, or whatever one choses to call my visions, is a part of my journey. But there are definite times, like this week, when the emotions are so over powering that I don’t know what to say or do.

It’s times like these that sometimes when we touch, sometimes the honesty is too much. And then, all I want to do is to just hold my friend and cry, to hold on tight and not let go until the fear in us subsides.