A chorus of frogs envelop me as I bathe in the waters of my spirit’s flesh.
Spring sways in, and the frogs sing a symphony, while my emotions break through. Outdated mannerisms are left behind in the fertile ground as dust, and my moment-to-moment perspective shifts. A fresh perspective this new year, this new moon, this new studio emerge. And new changes allow for the letting go of the old ways.
My mind melodically paces through its rivers and streams of its ecology of mountains and valleys that flow as throngs of frogs bellow in the pond below me.
Their sounds oscillate, surge and swell with their “ribbits” intertwining and playing off of each other.
The frequency of my own thoughts measure a multi-dimensional quality similar to their vocal calls intertwining. Our amplitudes and magnitudes undulating, progressing together in synchronistic time.
It’s as if the creatures around me are paying attention to my thought patterns and feelings, or that I am naturally resonating with their trance induction. Possibly both.
The anchoring lead of one bull frog’s loud sound croaks, then a chorus of response cascades from the Pacific Tree Frog’s community, their native signal resounding from the depths of their little resonant chamber of their bodies.
Accompanying ribbits pour out, a rolling and surging pattern of harmonic rapture captures me –
Ribbits abut and join ribbits. The ribbits’ rhythms quicken, heave, ebb and flow in counterpoint to each individual frog’s sound each pronouncing their slight variance of meter in their own stanzas.
Their fugue flush my mind. My emotions emphasized by their boosting and enhancing timbre through my own thoughtscape.
It is powerful medicine.
A nocturne of feelings rise and fall in me in relation to their ornamentation outside my bath’s window.
When they stop in unison, it’s in synchronous relation to a misaligned thought of discord in me, poof, silence, and it pervades my mindscape, startling and stopping a repetitive process. I then notice with the lack of their enticing stupor, their trance, and I remember to wonder, “What was this I was thinking?”
“Was this thought aligned with my arising desires, this emotional chalice of mine percolating in time?
“Was it a devout manifestation of my embodiment’s true self that I am designed to be? Inner and Outer?”
As I dive into my thoughts and hum the hymn of my life’s aligned hopes, inspirations, intentions and purpose, these very frog muses commence. Their ambrosial symphony rise again in me, as I’ve reset myself anew. I now fly in concordance with my chosen emotive dreamtime landscape, whilst I sit soaking in the tub, and slipping into their transduction. Intention of state of being, the remembered meme……
Then, the male frog beckons the female frog to mate with him by singing an oratorio of ribbits from his resonant chamber connected to his buccal cavity, his mouth and larynx.
In the pond around the corner from my home studio, the symphony of Pacific Tree Frogs induce a trance amongst the animals such as myself when within the vocal range of the frog throng’s orchestral succession.
They sing all night long as if they are masters of the magical spheres, listen, and feeling the vibrations in the environment around them. They live in symbiotic resonance with the cast of entities around.
The ribbits of the male frogs, the intoxication of the females, and the males cavernous vocal vibration imprints the world around them, making the pond they inhabit a sacred infusion of an elixir of transformation.
Riveted by their chorus, their resounding rhapsody enters me sonorously.
Their ribbits vibrate me to the core.
Their outpouring of love and lust in the dark of the night from dusk to dawn infuses my body with their rhyme. My very own nervous system resonates in knowing of their life creation.
In a unison of pausing, the frogs listen to their surroundings for who knows why. And then as if they’ve found what they were seeking in the silence, they return to their blissful trance like they’d never left, and time and space had not wavered.
A wondrous dreamworld of union and intimate bliss they thrive in.
Enraptured I am in their symphony, my body nourished soul to cell, cell to soul.
Third eye sight, I fold my gaze inward, and I enter their enveloping world aria.
And here we are.
Thank you dear frogs!