OldwomanOld Woman in the Mesa
Sings the sun up
It spirals open
Like a large eye of flames
It penetrates her skin
And warms her soul -
Hundreds of times
She has performed
This Dance
But today her voice
Is rusty, slow
Today, her voice is quiet
Not ready to rise -
She surrenders to silence
Eh, it’s part of the song
OldwomanritualSoft-gazing the sky
She smiles
This is where she belongs -
The wind lifts
Catches her breath
Gives her a head start -
She raises her voice and plays
With the breeze -
Notes high in the sky
Deep in her heart
And low in her belly and feet -
OldwomanfirebirdShe plays
Zip, zip, zoo
A click, a whiz and a whirl
Of wings
Something huge
Is here, then gone
Unseen -
It lifts her voice
And frees it somehow -
She sings fire around the earth,
The type you find in home and hearth -
She sings compassion and freedom
To each individual and to the One -
She sings sunrise and sunset
Sweeping each corner of the world -
Her laughter falls on
Children chasing puppies
And puppies chasing squirrels -
Old woman who sings the
Fire into stones
Is alive in the earth
Because of her bones -
OldwomansunriseShe is hundreds of
Centuries old,
But in the Mesa,
Each day,
She rises at dawn -
And if you listen
You’ll hear her say,
May splashes of
New beginnings
Fill your forever day.

Copyright © 2014, Vlatka Herzberg, all rights reserved. You may not reproduce materials without permission from Vlatka Herzberg.

greenmandancerThe Singer woke up in the middle of the night. She could hear the coyotes howl. She got up to get a drink of water, Four am, bummer. I’ve already been up for a half hour. Well, I might as well make breakfast. The Singer put the kettle on, and went to the computer to play a workshop she downloaded. It was called, “Telling the Story You Are Destined To Tell”.

greenmandancespiralsThere was so much energy moving through the Singer, she couldn’t hold still. Breakfast would have to wait, she began to dance and move her body. She danced figure 8’s, she shook, and jumped and bounced around. She danced her arms in the air. Some belly dancing moves were thrown in for good measure. An hour went by when the first discussion of Telling the Story ended. It was time for the blending. A blending is like a guided meditation but usually shorter, and less involved.

The Singer still felt antsy. She couldn’t lie down for the blending. She had to move. Why not, no one said I can’t, she thought. She danced during the blending. Eventually she made it to the floor and surrendered to the peaceful energy, allowing it to wash over her and wrap her up in a blanket of white light.

She felt calmer, but now the day needed to get under way. Magik had to come up to eat and be walked. She had decided ahead of time to take Magik to the Red Rock and make it a big outing. He too was full of lots of energy, surprise, surprise. So they got a head start, early.

Red RockIt was already warm at 8:30am. It hadn’t rained much for several months. There was a light breeze and that was refreshing. The air was humid and the moisture in it was welcoming. The Singer followed Magik. He knew where he was headed. They climbed the hill with ease. All that energy was put to good use. They rounded the bend and entered the valley. Its rolling green hills were a welcome sight, and the endless blue sky was comforting. Singer and Magik trudged along until they got to the Red Rock.

greenmanmistwomanThe Singer sat in the Red Rock chair that cradled her hips. She closed her eyes to sing, and was surprised, Wow, the white light is still there! She opened her eyes, then closed them again, I’m enveloped by light. She could have said, “I’m enveloped by love,” and she would have been right.

She began singing. The song was soft; the melody lifted her hands into the air very subtly, ever so gently. She became very aware of the softness and tenderness of her touch. Joggers ran by, talking loud. The singer opened her eyes. Magik sat across from her in the shade of the bushes. His smile seemed soft and gentle. The Singer closed her eyes and sang into the light.

Sometimes the energy was so soft and gentle, so tender, that it embraced you until you became it. The Singer surrendered her sense of separateness and sang the softness, tenderness, and gentleness, dancing her arms in unison, allowing her movements to tell a story.

greenman.liminaltreeShe had slipped into the Liminal, that place between worlds. A lot of magic could happen in this place. A lot of understanding and insights and resolve could happen in this place. Sometimes just being in the Liminal was healing. But it is also a place where it is easy to connect with the Unseen World and the Worlds of Other. It is a place familiar to mystics and magicians, and to boundary dwellers like artists and writers. Sometimes unbeknownst to adventurers, they have stumbled into this realm between worlds.

The immense light was sometimes a giveaway, alerting the Singer that she had slipped into the Liminal. Other times she felt such utter oneness with nature and the elements that this also told her she was between worlds. But this day, was different, it was as though she entered this Liminal place during the blending and had remained there during the entire walk.

greenmanfaceShe felt a presence. She could see/sense an outline. He was very tall, had broad shoulders, maybe more bulky than broad. He was like a silhouette, but not hollow. If she opened her eyes, she imagined she would have seen plants, flowers, and ivies inside his body. He was white. No. He was green. He was a Green Man! She heard his voice. It was deep, masculine. He said, “We come here often to hear you sing.” The singer didn’t say anything. She figured it was her imagination running wild. The Green Man continued, “Some of us come here to listen to you sing because it is soothing, others are curious. Some humans don’t behave like you do. Some don’t believe gnomes; salamanders, sylphs and undines are real. You’re unique. You don’t tame your strangeness. This intrigues the nature spirits and draws them to you. Much in the same way that animals are drawn to you. You sing, they listen.”

greenmanbutterflyhead“Who are you?” she finally asked.

“You could say a friend, an Unseen friend,” he said.

“Why are you here?” she wondered.

“To share a wish I have for you.”

“What is it?”

“I wish that you could feel your own goodness, truth and beauty. I wish that you could receive your kindness, tenderness and gentleness from yourself. Could you imagine that?” asked the Green Man.

The Singer considered it, “I could.”

“That’s my wish for you.” He smiled, then he added, “Sing.”

greenmanbirdsThe Singer sang a sweet song, tender, and gentle. The song darted in the air like those tiny birds, flying this way and that, ever so quickly. The wind caressed her cheeks. She softened her tones and allowed them to lull her into silence. They sat in a sea of light; the Singer and the Green Man. The Singer felt Magik stir. It was time to come back. She thanked the Green Man.

“Fare well,” he said.

“Fare well,” she said.

This time Magik followed the Singer out of the valley towards home. All the way back, she reflected on the Green Man’s words, “My wish for you is that you could receive your kindness, tenderness and gentleness from yourself.” She imagined what that felt like, and played with it.

greenmanfaerieSinger and Magik took a turn in the trail and ended up on the sidewalk. Nothing like cars whizzing and crows squawking to bring you back to this reality quickly, she thought.

Singer and Magik walked towards the crosswalk. She noticed a jalopy putzing towards them. It was some kind of golf cart like jeep that had a bunch of rakes and hoes and garden stuff sticking out the back. The Singer noticed the driver. He had broad shoulders, or maybe they were more bulky. He wore a huge hat that partially concealed his face, but the Singer could still see his smile, a familiar smile. He waved. She waved back, and noticed that he had ivies growing on his cheeks. Could it be? Why not? It’s my imagination. She smiled a big smile and sang a happy tune all the way home.

Copyright © 2014, Vlatka Herzberg, all rights reserved. You may not reproduce materials without permission from Vlatka Herzberg.

For Photo References: http://www.pinterest.com/teachnstories/faerie/

Red Rock photo by Vlatka Herzberg

Telling the Story You Are Destined To Tell Reference: Lazaris.com

Global Healing

Global Healing, sad earthThe Singer sat in her car listening to the news. A reporter from Rafa was talking about the atrocities in Rafa and Gaza.The terror in his voice and the shock was alarming. Innocent people slain! Utter lack of humanity! How could this be happening at a time just before a cease-fire?!
Global Healing, Dancing TreesThe Singer felt a deep sadness. And a deep desire to respond. She ran to the woods seeking refuge from her emotions, but she knew she needed to feel those feelings that she wanted to shove down. This is grief. But instead of my own personal grief, it is a global grief.
The Singer ran to her oak tree. A place she came often to sing, ground and play, but today there was a different reason to be here. She didn’t waste any time. The Singer drew a circle of protection with an oak branch. She began to sing. It was a different song, with a very different intent. She was calling Faerie, an Ancient Faerie Woman, an ally and a friend. Her heart opened and a song of determination, a song of seeking help burst out of her.
Global Healing, Faerie AncientThe oak tree trembled, the ground shook slightly, enough to know that someone was coming. The Singer felt a presence. She smiled. It was the Faerie Ancient. In her world, one they share with the humans, people often express their truer nature with the way they look. Her face was green. She had leaves for hair. The kindness and gentleness and wisdom were in the folds of her cheeks, her bosom, and her hips. This one had known great pain in her world and the human world, and she had committed several lifetimes to healing that pain. And now her human friend, the Singer was asking for her help. She did not hesitate. She came instantly.
Global Healing, hand magicSinger and Faerie Ancient, melded brows, that way they could communicate without words, it was quicker and more elegant, especially at a time when haste was needed. The Faerie Ancient stepped back and nodded, “I know what must be done.” She moved her hands in the air swiftly with an artistry of many generations of working this kind of magic. Her hands flew, weaving symbols in the air. She motioned for the Singer to sing. The Singer sang her heart into action, she sang sorrow and grief for the violence and horror. She sang deep compassion. Ancient hands wove symbols intertwining with ancient sounds. Symbols and sounds moved faster, got louder until a vortex burst open with light.
Global Healing Portal of LightThe Faerie Ancient motioned for the Singer to move back slightly. The vortex of light was flowing out of the oak tree. It was like it had split in two. The Faerie Ancient pulled the tree apart and the light flooded the woods. The Singer caught her breath. Streets, cars, people, trees, everything disappeared. There was only light.
The Faerie Ancient moved her hands ever so slightly. To another it may seem like an innocent movement, an ordinary movement. But to one steeped in magic, and Faerie magic at that, it was a movement adept with great artistry and mastery, in such a movement, a new reality, and new possibilities could be born.
Global Healing, Mother Cradling EarthThe Singer watched the light aware of the magic being worked. But nothing could prepare her for what she saw. A woman was holding the earth, cradling it like a child. The woman changed from being a Mother to a Crone, and back again. The earth was shrouded in darkness. The woman was weeping. She cradled and rocked the earth like it was her dearest child.
The Faerie Ancient motioned for the singer to take her hand. She did, and the two stepped out of the forest, through the tree into the light and into the darkness shrouding the earth. The woman’s tears fell on the earth and the Faerie Ancient caught one. She gave it to the Singer. The Singer swallowed the teardrop of light. The Faerie Ancient drew a symbol on the Singer’s brow and the teardrop of light grew. It grew inside the Singer until she was glowing with light. Now she knew what to do. She walked towards the woman embracing the earth and she flowed the light into the earth. The earth absorbed the light, its thirst being quenched.
global healing, glowing earthThe woman cradling the earth thanked the Singer and the Faerie Ancient for their participation. This level of healing could not be done alone.
The Singer returned to her day and her routine. No-one would ever know what happened in the woods. But she knew. And she knew that there was a little more love and healing in the world because of it. She was grateful that in her way, she could respond to a world caught in a crisis of fear and hope, a world becoming new.

Copyright © 2014, Vlatka Herzberg, all rights reserved. You may not reproduce materials without permission from Vlatka Herzberg.

For Photo References: http://www.pinterest.com/storynanny/global-healing-story/

San Diego Sunset 1We just got back from a wedding celebration in San Diego. Whenever I visit or move to a new place I always adjust and ground through connecting with the nature in that place. In San Diego that grounding came through being by the ocean and watching the sun set. Reconnecting with the ocean is like a family reunion for me. You embrace in a hug that says “It’s so good to see you and be with you again.” There’s no holding emotions back. The ocean crashes on the shore and sprays you with laughter and an invitation to play.
San Diego Pelicans 1The sunset starts with hints of color then explodes into notes of joy and splendor that catch your breath and suspend time. The earth grounds, the wind teases, pelicans grace the sky with their presence. Such huge, majestic birds in flight suspend logic and reason. For a moment you can feel your oneness with all things – the ocean, the sky, the earth, the people, and the pelicans.
Healing, tree eye waterfallI believe this grounding, connecting with nature in San Diego helped anchor the rest of our trip so that we could move through the busy-ness and excitement and celebration with greater ease. San Diego is a big, busy city and there are a lot of tourists there this time of year. It’s easy to get lost in a whirlwind of energy. The nature is exalted. I was drawn to the palm trees and loved watching them move – a soft, slow gentle dance in the breeze. Every afternoon the wind kicks up. It tempers the heat, and helps the palm trees dance. If you watch them even for a minute your cares will wash away. It amazes me how they can stay tethered and yet move and bend with such ease and grace. They inspired me to do exactly that.
San Diego CaveShe stood at the railing overlooking the ocean, hundreds of tourists blurred past her. A seagull and her young one watched the singer stand in silence, listening to the ocean’s voice and the roar of people living life fully. No-one noticed the seagull. Perhaps to them it was just another bird. But if you looked really closely, camouflaged in the brush was her young one. Her brown feathers blended in with her surroundings creating safety in a strange world that whizzed by with color and noise. The seagull turned her head and subtly pointed to the south. Being observant, the singer noticed and walked in that direction. She became a blur of color and silence until she reached her destination and caught up with herself. There, a cave? A cavern? The curve of stone was carved by water through time – gentle curves, inviting curves, welcoming the ocean to explore its mystery.
When no-one was watching the singer slipped through the fence and climbed down into the cave. The water splashed and foamed around her feet. She walked in far enough so that she would not be seen. The rhythm of the ocean stirred her soul and moved her body like the wind moves the palm trees. Undulating in a figure 8, she rocked sounds out of her. She sang quiet at first, then the ocean pounded against the stone and coaxed her to open her heart and roar!
San Diego SeagullWild, wild ocean
Knocking at my door
Ease my angst
And let my soul soar
Wild, wild ocean
Chisel rough edges
Smooth splashes
Of laughter and joy
Wild, wild ocean
Bold and robust
I surrender
My roughness
Softening to your touch

Copyright © 2014, Vlatka Herzberg, all rights reserved. You may not reproduce materials without permission from Vlatka Herzberg.
San Diego photos by Vlatka and Theodore Herzberg
For eye Photo Reference: http://www.pinterest.com/storynanny/

Deer Song Story

Deer Woods, MagikMagik and I went into the woods before the day got hot and the workday got underway. Sometimes we play follow the leader, sometimes Magik follows me, today I followed Magik. He had a mission in mind, to find the crunchiest piece of bark in the forest to munch on.

We walked up one trail, down another. Earlier that morning I used a newly learned grounding technique. I ran cold water on my feet, then hot, then cold, then hot, then cold again. Walking, I felt much more connected to the earth, sure-footed.

Magik rounded the bend, I rounded the bend and to my delight I found a sleek black and white feather. A little further down the trail I found two owl feathers.

Magik hopped over and under fallen tree trunks. I followed until we got to Grandmother Oak tree with Bay Laurels for arms. I greeted Grandmother Oak, she greeted me. Magik took the opportunity to munch on bark, while I got settled. I took my crystals out and waved the feather over them and over me. I didn’t wave the feather over Magik in case he thought it was food.Deer Woods, feather I started to sing, checking in to my surroundings, finding my comfort. Mostly animals, not people visit this sacred place, so I felt comfortable to let go quickly.

When I sing, I can feel what emotions are hanging around in me, I can observe them and start to loosen them with sounds I make. Thoughts drop away and the raw feelings are exposed. I softened into sadness, a soulful sadness. When you sing sadness, you can stretch it and dive deep into it. You can be intimate with it, and you can witness it. You can sing on the outside of sadness and find joy there. You can sing sadness and joy, back and forth until you slip between into the liminal.


Red Rock Raven, Old Faerie WomanAn Old One came to watch her. Perhaps she was an old Faerie Queen, or maybe she was the crone, or a Shamaness who came to just sit and be with the singer. Folds of eyelids closed over bright, keen, hawk eyes. White wisps of hair feathered her face. Her nose was strong, and determined like her character. Her lips flat and used to smiling a lot. She held her head with a soft majesty. Her presence filled the liminal with peace. Together the Old One and the singer sat waiting, listening deeper. The singer wasn’t sure what she was waiting for or listening to, but that didn’t matter, she surrendered to the peace.Oak Tree Story, healing water headThe singer sang, and the Old One listened. The singer sang cascading waterfalls, and silent moments. The singer played hide-n-seek with notes that darted around the trees and back again. Somewhere in the play the Old One disappeared and the singer opened her eyes. A deer was watching her. The singer sang tender, tender gentleness to the earth. She caressed the trees with butterfly kisses. Her voice echoed through the forest, leaping and skipping, and eager to play. The deer was still, so very still for the whole song. Nary an eyelash moved. The singer lowered her voice, still circling notes, making them rise with the wind and fall with the leaves. The deer moved closer, each step purposeful, eyes focused on the singer.

Deer Woods, deerThe singer finished her song, honoring the tree, the earth, and the deer. The deer watched the singer. Their eyes held a long moment. Then the deer walked away, raising legs over brush, one leg, two leg, three leg, four. It was rhythmic, almost like a deer march. The deer made its own sounds, singing short bursts of air. One breath, two breath, three breath, four. They walked away, down the hill, leaving the singer and Magik alone, sitting before Grandmother Oak with Bay Laurel trees for arms.

Copyright © 2014, Vlatka Herzberg, all rights reserved. You may not reproduce materials without permission from Vlatka Herzberg.
For Photo References: http://www.pinterest.com/storynanny/

Air, swirling sunset
I welcome the wind,
It welcomes me.
I breathe it in,
It breathes me in.

Air, swirling rose Goddess
Surrendering to a passage of time,
Allowing -
The wind coaxes,
Plays me, pulls me
Away from thoughts that don’t serve me.
The wind blowssss.
Dead leaves drop away -
“Playyy,” it hisses,
“Danccce,” it wishes.
I laugh, I swirl, I sway!

Air, Grass Sky Goddess Golden grass sways freedom -
Freedom to think,
Freedom to feel,
Freedom to play with thoughts and feelings,
With dreams and ideas.

Air, Gilbert WilliamsHawk screeches,
Whooshes past me.
I grab it’s tail and soar!
Over golden fields we roar!
I grab my vision
With fierce majesty -
We somersault tumble on
Rolling thoughts and dreams.

I weave and bob,
Spiraling into turbulence,
Catching my breath.
The wind laughs,
Blowing circles around me.
I surrender -
“Here I am,” I exclaim.
Transcend me into possibilities eternally blooming!

Hours or days later,
Coming back to mySelf -
I think and feel new freedom,
Renewed and refreshed.

Copyright © 2014, Vlatka Herzberg, all rights reserved. You may not reproduce materials without permission from Vlatka Herzberg.

For Photo References: http://www.pinterest.com/storynanny/elements-nature-spirits/

Rainbow Story

SI ExifThe Red Rock dreams. The Red Rock calls. The Red Rock calls me from one dream into another. Deadlines, duties and obligations fall away like autumn leaves. I follow Magik on the path where the dust breathes. He marches forward like a corgi on a mission. We pass birdsong shrubs singing in the waft of breeze. We pass hawk screeching in the trees. The aquamarine sky pierces my vision and my body too. I walk that aquamarine water sky into my being until I am entirely blue with clumps of moss and oak leaves cladding my hips and shoulders. The aquamarine water sky fills Magik too. His body ripples as he marches forward towards the Red Rock. His hips and his eyes are covered with moss. I think his heart is too. Moss floats on rippling waves of Magik – closer and closer we come to the Red Rock.

Rainbow Story, Rainbow body womanHawk weaves hopes and dreams in and out of parched hills, oak and bay trees. I sit on the Red Rock and sing sylphs into the sky. The Red Rock grabs my hips and my soul blossoms. My soul sings caverns deep in the earth, and magnolias opening hearts. She sings movement in the forest. She sends scratching, jumping, darting, hopping hares across the valley.

Rainbow Story, Rainbow WomanThe hare stopped to listen. The singer’s eyes were closed. The hare’s body quivered and rippled. She changed form: Woman, Goddess, Hare – Hare, Goddess, Woman – undulating back and forth. The singer’s eyes opened and the hare ran away, but the hare was there long enough to open a door. In this world, the sky is the Goddess’ canvas. She whispers to sleeping dogs and tickles their ears, while sprites pet them tenderly with great care. In this world, the Goddess dreams rainbows of sylph curtains draping over oak and bay leaves. In this world, Gnomes keep watch as the Goddess breathes balls of light into plants. The moisture from Her breath nourishes them like newly fallen rain.

Rainbow Story, Fern water body Boundaries blurred. Two worlds overlapped. The Goddess breathed on the singer and filled her body with moisture that grew seeds into ferns. The singer’s body rippled rings of ferns – lipid, liquid, pools. The Muse captured the singer’s voice and filled the forest with its richness. Sylph faces smiling with approval floated in rainbow curtains. The forest became a lyrical voice, filled with laughing hills and spiraling trees. Voice, laughter, rainbow light all converged opening a gateway that flooded both worlds with hope. Out of that hope, a gateway was birthed. Fir trees lined either side. The sylphs danced the rainbow towards the gateway and a thousand angels sang its welcome. The singer floated towards the doorway, elated to finally arrive here.

Rainbow Story, doorThe door slammed shut! The singer’s voice stuck, a needle on the record, playing the same note over and over. Her voice cracked. Voices in the valley echoed, louder and louder they boomed. They were the voices of logic and reason making sense and science out of the Red Rock. Maybe they were uncomfortable, maybe they were afraid. Or maybe they just couldn’t see. But, had they stopped to glance at the forest, willing to see with humility, they just may have seen a rainbow gateway spiraling open to the stars.

Rainbow Story, eye vortex Copyright © 2014, Vlatka Herzberg, all rights reserved. You may not reproduce materials without permission from Vlatka Herzberg.

For Photo References: http://www.pinterest.com/storynanny/rainbow-story/


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