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dreams

I’ve experienced vivid nightmares throughout my life. As a child, my mother taught me lucid dreaming. I began changing my dreams before they fully woke me, before I popped up in bed, heart pounding, sweat-soaked and choking back a scream. As an adult, I forgot how to alter my dreams. For a time I felt safe in myself and the dreams eased. This summer, the nightmares returned. I no longer felt safe. For three months I struggled to sleep. The fourth month, I began to pay attention. My dreams spoke of

I love you most when you are drifting under the wings of nightmares my ear against the grain of your closed wooden door I miss you most when you sleep twisted in the fear you will slip the tether lose your one, small soul. Rest, child. I will hold your string you are the gift I prayed for when I fed blood to Mother Earth.   All of my children struggle with nightmares, but especially one. I find myself waiting at his door listening with my heart as he whimpers.

by Thomas Ives A Note from Shawna: I asked Thomas Ives, #ShareInspireConquer pioneer and inspirational blogger at Bestowing Fire, if he would please contribute some writing to my site. Thomas is an incredible individual whose goal in life you will find below. He reaches my heart with all of his work. He is supportive beyond the page. He is yet another wonderful person I’ve connected with through #LinkYourLife and I couldn’t be more grateful. I am so glad to know him and delighted to share his voice on The Honeyed

Whenever I run into a talented artist, I wish I had a much larger online following so I can promote the heck out of them and help them achieve their dreams. Sometimes I wish it so hard I forget it’s not true. Then I make sweeping, self-aggrandizing statements about how ginormous my international network is, so let’s do a video/photo sesh/interview! It’ll be great! Ahem. Then I land back on Earth, and I swear I try to talk myself back down enough that I fit inside the humble little bubble

I met you in a dream we tumbled trees high around us your hair in braids of meadow grass tied with wildflowers and laughter. I cried dew drops on each blade until the sun rose you rose you smelled of roses. We whispered as fire rode the sky all I saw was upward my heart strained my tears churned into butter your hands on me without shame my body shivering under the heat of that longed for connection I woke to my own voice shouting please touch me I’m ready

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