Stories –

STORIES –
single-red-rose-3by: Aliana Alani ©2018

 

You can love them or hate them.
Laugh till you cry or cry till you sob.

You can bravely follow page by page,
Or sneak peek to the end, to be sure to be sure.

You can raise their swords of truth as though they were your own,
Or shake your head at the sheer folly of where they appear to go.

Through them – you can be a swashbuckler, a Cinderella, an angel, or a spy.
You can dust off your dancing shoes,
Or race that Formula One car to the finish.
In some, you can even fly.

And if they are good enough – if they are well told –
They will, at some point, capture your heart.
From that moment on, for however long a time,
You will believe them to be your own.

lotus flower

Advertisements

The poem … ‘I Had A Dream’

Yesterday I posted a ‘Prelude’ to this poem to give you a sense of how it came to be, the feeling of power,magic, and yes perhaps even destiny, that wove round its coming into form. Here is the poem itself. It is very long so do hang in there. Thanks!

Digital Camera

 

I HAD A DREAM…                                      By:  Aliana Alani – updated ©2016

I had a dream on a wayward night when the moon was riding high.
A dream of the future once hidden so deep, now crying out to arrive.
A dream with a voice, a dream with a name, a dream with a purpose true.
A dream that grabbed me by the heart and begged me to see it through.

The dream spoke of a land, full and rich, steeped in the power of words.
Where voices whispered in morning mist and councils longed to be heard.
Where the earth was ancient and the song was of old, its colors royal too.
Where legends lived and prayers could be heard locked in the morning dew.

It spoke of a time when the world was right and the island knew its name.
When keys were forged in the glistening light of a golden destined flame.
Buried they were in the depths of the earth beyond terror and human sight.
Beyond evil hands and evil thoughts and intruders come to dig in the night.

For it was known then by those who could see between the sleeves of time
That hungry men would stretch their hands across the water’s broad line.
They would stretch and claw and grab for themselves pieces of the soil.
The land would burn, the land would bleed, and men would know only toil.

And all that was holy, all that was pure, would drown midst a sorrowful cry.
The power of the day would run for the dark, its magic now needing to hide.
Men’s spirits would live in the midst of night’s hue serenading a somber song
And all that was free, unfettered and true, would seem lost in a captor’s bonds.

The seed would be sent to foreign lands with young stomachs yet to be filled.
Such worlds appeared new, wild and alive; still the heart could not be stilled.
It longed for the green, it longed for the mist, it longed for those hidden keys
That called from the depths of that deep dark earth and promised a spirit free.

There would come a time when the world itself did not know which way to turn.
It would look to the left, it would look to the right, its lessons still not learned.
The seers knew such a time as that would wash harsh o’er the souls of this earth.
It would toss them and turn them, it would tumble them round, all before the birth.

They knew those keys would be needed then, so potent with life was their door.
Each encased in a golden light so pure, its spark took one straight to the core.
There would be no denying the power of its flame, no denying the power of truth,
No denying the light that would soon emerge, its flag flying o’er all of the earth.

It would come from an island once lost in pain, an island of war and of strife.
It would come from a place ancient yet new that oft seemed to have little life.
It would tear at the heart, sing to each soul, it would open doors so long bound.
It would call to the day, it would call to the night, it would call to the table round.

The island would live, the island would breathe, the island would claim its place.
From the north to the south, the east to the west, its spirit cast in lasting grace.
Its song would circle a troubled world, a loving voice long destined to be heard.
A white dove would fly from a hilltop high, and the dream would now emerge.

And those who had sat on that still dark night when the keys were buried deep
Who had watched them sink within rich moist soil, their secrets there to keep,
Whose hearts were etched in the print of the plan, fired within a golden mold,
Would be called from far, would be called from wide, their stories to be told.

They would place their print in the palm of the plan, the heart’s song to be sung.
The earth would tremble, the soil would shift, and the birthing would have begun.
Then the ghosts of the past meet the spirits of the day, awash in a glow of light
And that which was sorrow, that which was pain, is dissolved by a higher might.

Soon a love song is sung through emerald rain, a song so full and so strong.
Its call can be heard through forests and fears, through hatreds and rivers long.
It’s a song we long for, a song held in our hearts, a song the world needs to hear
Brought from an island long known for words, sacred and destined and clear.

I had such a dream on a wayward night when the moon was riding high.
A dream of a future once hidden so deep whose time had finally arrived.
A dream with a voice, a dream with a name, a dream with a purpose true.
A dream that grabbed me by the heart and begged me to see it through.

                           Aliana Alani © 2016

Digital Camera

 …for the heart song of Ireland

Here we go again. It seems to be a week of watching shining lights dash into the heavens.

rickman

Alan Rickman was, to me, a quintessential actor, capable of casting his talent like a magical net upon the story waters. He was a gem, often delightfully deliciously devious or melancholic in his roles. He could pull you into the core of a story, often with such subtlety, that you didn’t know it had happened till the end when you popped out through that looking glass and realized you’d been taken on one hell of a ride. You couldn’t help but love him. His knowledge of his craft shone brightly in everything he did.

There are certain roles, certain films, one simply cannot picture without him. And so it goes to say, he will be sorely missed.

Rest easy, Alan, and enjoy those stars. And thank you, thank you, thank you!

 

This is for you…

I’ve had 22shangrila up and running for awhile now. Some of you have been following here since the beginning; others are new, or at least newer. Some click ‘like’ having found something in that moment that speaks to you and then you are gone into the internet mist, never to be heard from again. Some come back. Some choose to hang around.

To all of you, I want to say – THANK YOU!

Thank you for being touched by something in this site, whether that be poetry, an article, or some of the other work I do. Thank you for letting me know. And thank you for choosing to follow to see what else might show up here.

The purpose of 22shangrila has always been to communicate – to speak to the language of the heart in us all, no matter the form or moment – but especially through the power of word, image, and story. And of course to let you know what I’m doing.

I’m not the best at answering, or for that matter at clicking ‘follow’ to your sites when you come to mine. Apologies. The intention is often there. I do take a look at what you’re doing if you click ‘like’ on mine, and I often say to myself, ‘I must make a comment, a thank you, an I-like-your-work-too’. But then the moment goes, the phone rings, the muse calls, and my best intentions fly off into the winds. I’ll try to get better at that.

After all, we are a community of world storytellers, are we not? Mystics in the making, perhaps. Poets abounding. Weaving new visions and thoughts that, yes, could quite possibly change our world for the better. And we all matter.

So here’s to you – all of you  – may every day in your life flourish with harmony, balance, and love. May you weave the most scrumptious tales ever, whether they be in word, image, or sound! And may they dance in our world like magic calling us home.

I hope you’ll hang around. If it feels right, send a comment note or an email (I will answer those) and tell me what you’re doing to help this world be a kinder happier place.

And again – THANK YOU!

Aliana

Happy St Patrick’s Day

 

shamrocks for st patrick's day

Today has become a celebration of green beer, green rivers, green ties, green clothes and a touch of Riverdance. It is also a day where we send Irish blessings across the world as if we were Irish, whether we are or we are not. It is a day when we celebrate – The Green.

And it is a day where some hope that as we cast that bit of fairy dust across the skies, it will kiss our lives with joy and bless our hearts.

Every country, every land, carries within its journey blessings and sorrows, gifts and challenges, things to be remembered and things to be let go of. Ireland is no exception but what it also carries (and I say this from having lived there) is a song of story and of heart so deep, and yes sometimes so clear, that it could crack wide the realm of memory and bring us home to what is true – if only we would let it.

It is the home of the poet, the mystic, the minstrel. The weave and fabric of its word and story can linger with you no matter where you travel, how far, nor for how long. Somehow, strangely, you find yourself still breathing its slow air.

Happy Paddy’s Day Everyone. May the sun always shine on your days and may the tale of your life be blessed with a delicious dose of magic and a cup overflowing with love.shamrock

leonard nimoy

Thank you Leonard for all the magical cinema moments and memories – of what’s possible in the skies and what’s possible here on earth – for that wonderful phrase ‘Live long & prosper’ which might just be a terrific mantra for us all – and for your incredible contribution to the Griffith Observatory, a special place in itself.

Your final tweet about life being like a garden could echo a chord within all our hearts.

Bless you, Leonard Nimoy, in this your gentle journey to the stars.

In The Realm of Sky

I mentioned last month that I would be taking the pdf of In The Realm of Sky off the site. It took a little longer to get around to than anticipated due to some unexpected developments in my life (more on that later, maybe). So today is the day.

I truly hope you have enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it, and I hope you have enjoyed receiving it free-of-charge.  To me, it is a magical story.

Until a print book copy is done (hopefully late this year), the pdf of the story will still be available upon request, but for a small fee. Just email me at 22shangrila.com or leave a comment/request below if you haven’t read In The Realm of Sky and want to.

I’ll be keeping a wee info page regarding the story on the site so that anyone can check it out at their leisure.

Wishing you a heart-filled delicious day!

Warm wishes for a wonderful 2015 coming your way!  May all your fondest clearest and most empowered dreams come true, and may they always be filled with love.

We are almost at the end of January (how quickly it goes) and already it’s been a whirlwind of a time in our world. I’m coming to you late in this as are my good wishes to you. New Year’s found me flat out with that flu/cold virus that has swept across North America and so it’s taken awhile to rise up from that bed and catch up with, well just about everything.

So here’s goes … a bit of news on the work and a few thoughts re what’s been going on.

lotus flower

TEMPLATES FROM THE GARDEN – the sacred geometry artwork I’ve been doing. There’s a new one available. It’s called – Awakening Creativity. It’s big, it’s beautiful, it’s powerful. If you feel drawn to see it, to perhaps become a Keeper of its Focus or to buy it as artwork, send me a quick email c/o 22shangrila.com or leave a message here and I’ll get back to you with images and info.

IN THE REALM OF SKY – the small children’s book I wrote and posted here last year – has been available for you to read free-of-charge for awhile now. I want you to know that I’ll be taking it down from this site within the week. So if you want to read it before then, do so now. After that, the book will be available, hopefully late this year, but in print form. Hence you will need to buy it.  I’ll update you as that happens.

SESSION WORK – For buckets of time in the not-so-distant, I was available as a spiritual facilitator for private sessions, workshops, retreats, and speaking events. It was a potent time. I ended up taking time out, partly to go to Ireland and follow a yellow-brick road that took longer than one could possibly imagine (okay maybe you could), and partly to focus on writing and exploring our world. Recently I have started being available for session work again. This is often long distant work, so by phone or Skype. And it is always with a focus of coming home to your true essence and to the Garden of Love & Light. You are welcome to email me if you feel this work might be for you. At present I am only available to see a few clients at a time.

There are new projects beginning, new artwork, and hopefully a bit of poetry. I’ll update you on those as they happen. And thanks for taking the time to check it all out!!

burning candle

 

THE WHIRLWIND … If the beginning of 2015 is any indication of how this year will be, at least in the world-at-large, then hang onto your hats and get centered because that’s what we’ll need to be to either ride out the storm or shift to a new paradigm. Shifting is definitely in the cards – we have been moving toward it for awhile – as is living in The Garden.

So balance, kindness, and compassion are key now, as is that ever constant – love – which ultimately allows us to prosper in the best of ways.

It has always been my sense that to truly live in The Garden of Love, one must surrender attachments; to old ways of being, old stories, perceptions and judgements. One is often called to forgive what was in order to love what can be. The term ‘wiping the slate clean’ comes to mind.

Non-judgement (& no one said this one was going to be easy) also requires a tolerance of being; to look beyond the histories and stories (ours or another’s) to the Spirit that lives within (whether you call it Spirit, the Divine, God, or the Eternal); remembering that the essence of all Spirit is the same – that when I look at you, I am indeed looking at Spirit. When I allow that, I am able to recognize that we are all truly one.

At the level of Spirit, freedom is a way of being. It is meant to be that way in our world as well, just as we are meant to be the conscious expression of Spirit in our world.

With that in mind, freedom becomes a right, not a privilege. So when we in this world attempt to inhibit freedom – whether that be freedom of speech, freedom of expression, or any of the other freedoms we should be holding dear, we are in fact inhibiting a path to the conscious manifestation of the essence of our own being here on earth.

So here’s the thing – It is easy to allow freedom when it’s all going according to your own take on things; when what you say or believe matches what I think. It is when you speak, write, or parody in a way that seems to counter what I have chosen to believe, that the challenge arises. Will I still recognize your right to freedom of expression or will I damn it?

Voltaire, a French philosopher, writer & historian has been quoted as saying, “I may not agree with what you have to say, but I will defend to the death your right to say it.” From time to time, I remind myself of this gem of wisdom, especially in moments like those in Paris recently.

I am as well a storyteller. Stories come in many forms, one of which happens to be satire. Satire has been around for longer than you and I can remember. It has always been a way to poke fun at or shine a light on that which is out of balance in the world.  Just as art in its myriad of forms has also been a way for us to rise above the mundane, to dare to dream, to live beyond the expected, to change, to laugh, to cry, and again, to shine a light on that which is or is not working.

It is through story that, consciously or not, we end up creating new worlds. How sad if the world we ended up with would be but a tiny crafted box only big enough for infinitesimally small experiences and even smaller expressions of being; a box with no freedom and very little light.

Which for some reason brings me to William Butler Yeats who wrote in a now famous poem – “I have spread my dreams under your feet.   Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.”

So in this year of 2015, let us dare to dream a world of harmony and love into being, beyond the hatred and fear. Let us reach beyond those boxes to the skies and dare to live with passion. And most importantly, let us dare to love.

Bald Eagle Soaring

Blessings and love to you all.

There goes another angel – flying high into those wild beautiful skies – or maybe to some faraway realm. Mork would probably have liked that.

robin williamsThe mad zany wonderful world that was ROBIN WILLIAMS. 

REST IN PEACE, ROBIN

You are pure genius and you will be profoundly missed. 

May you be wrapped in love as you make this journey beyond our world, just as you so often wrapped us in laughter, and yes sometimes tears.

You and your talent were a gift to us and we are grateful.

Coming to you soon – IN THE REALM OF SKY

imagine

Stories can be funny things. Sometimes you struggle to hear them. Sometimes they will call at you until you answer. IN THE REALM OF SKY was one of those. Its first words came like a waterfall. I had no idea what the story was going to be about, nor its primary form, only that it desired to be shared and would not leave me be.

Until last year, I didn’t write children’s stories. So I didn’t know this would be one. It is a sweet small poignant tale that any of us, young or older, can appreciate. Its message is universal. And it wants to be shared. Recently it seemed important to do just that.

So I am making this little book available to you all, at the moment free-of-charge, in pdf format. You are welcome to read it and to download it (changing it in any way is not an option). I am hopeful that sometime soon there will be money to make it available in print form as well. For now, this will do.

It will be available soon here on my web blog – http://www.22shangrila.com (look for the page marked IN THE REALM OF SKY) – and from me personally via email – aliana@22shangrila.com.

IN THE REALM OF SKY is meant to be shared with the world, so please let others know about it.imagine

If this story touches your heart, I’d love to hear from you, and if you would like to contribute to it or future stories of mine coming to you this way, please feel free to click on the PayPal Donate button on my blog at http://www.22shangrila.com. All donations are gratefully received.

Blessings and Aloha to you all!

Aliana