White lady, radiating white light, spun from the dream spell of a harp.
Is she White Tara, she who has guided me amongst waves of tumultuous emotion offering peace, or is she a manifestation of Kuan Yin, Chinese mother of compassion.
It is ten years since I have been in China, sitting on an ancient city hilltop on stone stools, sipping green tea and cracking open sunflower seeds.
I notice a five year old girl dressed in a red jacket, I point at my camera, miming if I can take a photograph. The girl prompted by her parents, full of love and pride in their little girl get her to sing me a song in English, which delights me. Because today is my birthday, and all things on this day bring me delight.
I had reincarnated in this very land in my past lifetime. Only one memory survives – of being a young girl sitting in a walled garden eating a persimmon.
I am glad Tara/Kuan Yin is here, deities of compassion. I long to know the God’s again, to reach my own inner God.
Windows of the soul are open. I am surrounded by silence, shadow, grass, birds, water’s flow, nature opening the windows of vision. I am earthed and yet I fly inwardly.
I need to get to know you again, Tara, my starlight that holds true within my heart. Beat your rhythm like a singing bowl, sing to me so I may sing back to you. Beat, beat, beat sings the bird up on a branch, twit, twit sings a smaller bird. I am trying to find my song to sing, the inner heart song, the inner truth.