Posted by: Bruce Proctor | December 17, 2009

Dragonfly Dream, part 2 of 3

Continued from Part 1

I approached one of my new American Indian friends. I told him that I understood that with the stinging of the dragonflies my Dragonfly Initiation had begun. Would he and his people teach me?

Just after sun up, the two of us were walking the dirt road coming in to the pueblo, its green, irrigated fields to the left. There, in the roadside grass, just out of the corner of my eye, I saw what must have been a short, dirt runway. Inconspicuously and silently, lined up one behind the next, bird after bird was landing there, easing effortlessly from horizontal to upright, each bird becoming a man walking! No fanfare, no one about. I seemed to be the only witness. Some of the birds were jays, with their blue, black, and white colors, and somehow through the transition their overall coloration remained the same, although the men were now in their ordinary shirts and jeans, each wearing just a token few of the bird’s feathers.

In a plaza of the pueblo, with maybe a dozen Indians including my teacher friend, I ducked through a blanket-covered doorway into a large, darkened room, the air thick with dust. My friend was the leader, and it seems what followed was long, maybe days long, and portentous. I can remember clearly nothing but the space, darkness, and silence, and the people with me.



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