Autumn Leaves Dancing in the Wind

By Huguette Castaneda

In the search for meaning, we often travel through the inner caves of being to discover the true value of in our lives. When at last the search turns within, it is there that we find the real guide, and then we can travel the road to mastery.

Autumn Leaves Dancing in the Wind is a collection of personal reflections written at a time of search for meaning. There are times in our lives when we search for truth and must delve deeply within to find the true value of life. May the inner wisdom be of assistance to others in times of doubt, of search and uncertainty. If we let our inner wisdom guide, we learn that we already know the source of truth.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Balboa Press
• Release date: Apr 3, 2012
• ISBN: 9781452549309

Huguette Castaneda

Huguette Castaneda is an ordained minister in the Church of Wisdom she has a doctorAte in Metaphysical Healing and a BA in Transpersonal & Psychospiritual Art from Delphi University, a BA from Thomas A. Edison State University She is also an Avesa Coach, Reiki Master, Ceremonial Master and Sound Healer She is the author of Autumn Leaves dancing in the Wind, Mariella s Gifts from the Sea, and Sophie s Gifts from the Fairies. She lives in Naples Florida to enjoy nature, the sea, music and creative expression.

Book preview

SONG

There is a song in my soul

It plays on the strings of harmony, peace and joy

It speaks words of silence

That can only be heard by inner ears

Music that can be seen by inner eyes

It vibrates through a body of light

Activates waves and motions of perfection

THE ONLY HEALER

Creation and the creator are likened

To the birthplace of Ebro

In its dry season there are but a few

Handfuls of water seeping out of the earth

Yet, in the wet season, many little founts are seen

And the small stream becomes a mighty torrent

An unbelievably large river

So open all the doors and windows of your house

To the water of life

For the water of spirit is the only healer

BEAUTY

The blue dome stretched out its hand

Painted the blue, violet, pink, white

It answered the question asked

To manifest arrays of colors from above

How good you are Eternal One

How many care to admire your paintings?

How often the indescribable beauty goes unnoticed!

WORK

It does not matter what work one performs

Or where one is

What matters is that the work is done

With the highest ideals

In a spirit of pure love

UNSEEN

In a triangle we sat

On the red, white and blue

Teaching young ones

To reach the infinity

Within their own little self

As the silence began to grow

One could hear particles moving through air

Who said air is nothing because unseen?

Even unseen it’s made of millions of tiny specks

And their sound of friction, of movement

Can only be heard in utter quietness

THE ONE

Those teachers, they speak of an outer master

Who became the master?

Only the outer shell directed by the inner

What’s its name we ask?

No other than I am One

For if you place a name on it

It is limited by the personality

Associated with the name

This One is perfect in nature

In very few on this earth plane

Many are the ways in which One is made manifest

For all creation is the work of above

Many times, that which will be the voice

To spur us on is found in the most unlikely of places

THE FRIEND

For years, the friend is inside oneself

This special indescribable someone

That guards, that waits, that guides

Happy are we if we have discovered

In our very young years this One within

One may know the One in youth

Speaking, sharing, listening, being with it

Yet as the years go on, the mind may search

To discover this One without

Too many times one will consume

Book after book only to find

That what one thought in silence

Is of the highest and absolute knowledge

And the written script has only helped

To scatter and confuse the mind

‘Til that day when one returns

Into the inner domain to sort out

That which is known and reach

The ultimate core of truth

Knowing for certainty that what is

Has not changed

THE DOME

The golden light was made to glow

For days and days it shone brightly

Suddenly a gray mist covered the dome

Not a dark depressing gray

But a pale whitish design-less cloth

What was happening?

What was to be?

As a few droplets filled and moistened

The lower sphere

It melted the dirty white blanket

Streams began to run on the muddy surface

Where were they going?

How far would they go before they stopped?

Or rather, before they joined a larger body?

The golden ball rose again

Warmed the day softly

The heat grew more intense

The night came, the heat rose higher

The wind disturbed all in its path

It threw around anything that was not anchored

Blowing it away at a distance

In the meantime the dome wept bitterly

In the morn gray puffs covered the sky

The wind cooled the surface ‘til it crystallized

The white specks sparkled all about

‘Til it created a light blanket on the surface below

The air cooled even further

‘Til mirrors and rugged shaped were formed

Will the fiery light rise the next morn

Warming the coming day?

The next day the bright light rose

Warmed the world below

The leafy patterns painted on invisible