Last Cry - Native American Prophecies & Tales of the End times


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Last Cry - Native American Prophecies & Tales of the End times

For the truth of w hat and who we are and our long journey to this present expresion is something few remember. Their minds are filled with disconected thoughts and images of images of what they are expected to be as… not much of their own. When we come to own ourselves, we first loose those pictures, and learn to follow the feeling.

No matter what you have been, or what you have done, creator sits evenly with all of us on that day of passing. All that maters is that you did, that you lived it all and drank from the cup of life. March had entered upon the Islands like the proverbial Lion. After a six week stretch of Northeastern torrential rains and dealing with wind chill factors of often 50 below zero, the equinox and the thought of spring would be a welcomed experience.

After 62 days of rain, even Ducks will begin to have dreams about the desert. Walking along the rocky, moss-covered cliffs of the Washington coast, taking in the gentle weather, I needed a break from writing the prophecy book. Ever since I had undertaken the task of compiling the information I was receiving from the Grandfathers into the book, many new elements had come into play in my life. They can be misty and moody, and one often looses their sense of time while walking out their thoughts along trails of tangled introspection.

I found myself dreaming about the ranch in Arizona. I was living in two worlds. I had come to find myself. I seemed to be walking through a dream these days, waiting for the mythical Bird of Freedom to lift me from these Islands of eternal gray fog. Part of me seemed to still be back in Arizona, walking amongst the red rock cliffs of my ceremonial grounds on the ranch. As I walked the ocean cliffs, the Albatross sings messages in my ears. Its message is carried to me upon the wind, It is going to be a hard summer there this year in your southern home. The desert will be burning up.

I am shown visions of a very dry desert landscape, brush fires burning everywhere. Later that afternoon I would talk to a friend in Cave Rock, who would. As always, when I think of Arizona I think of my friends the Hopi. I have spent over twenty years now, walking this Good Red Road. There are many stories that can only be remembered. Stories that will never be spoken. I remembered Grandfather Dan saying, People live in two worlds now. The Hopi way will soon disappear from this Earth if there is no one to believe in our way, then like last summer is will soon be.

Walking along the cliffs, my mind goes back to just a few short months ago when I was in Hotevilla. I was in ceremony with the traditional elders in prayer circle. These elders are properly and respectfully referred to as the Sinom, which translates more or less to mean those old wise ones who carry the memory of the original teachings of Creator for the People. We sat together in an ancient kiva for four days talking to the old ones, and asking the Kachinas for assistance, exactly as their ancestors had done over twelve thousand years ago.

We call for understanding and truth to help us understand these times of changes, asking the Kachinas to give us clarity for the future. In the Hopi way we are Crying for a Vision. My experience in the kiva leads me to new clarity. I emerged from the kiva feeling as if I have awakened from a dream.

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I walk into the Hopi cornfield, staring out at the stars that create a surreal blue luminescence upon an ancient landscape. I stood looking at a world that is exactly as other eyes have seen it millenniums ago. I wondered what they must have thought as they received their visions of potential future events. They stood here as I now do trying to understand the visions of a very bazaar future reality.


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Did they think themselves mad? I stood there naked in the moonlight, having made it through to the other side of a labyrinth. I found myself struggling to make my new eyes see, to allow my consciousness to touch and comprehend a new expanded reality.

Hopi Elders say earth changes are upon us

I was struggling to see through veils of illusion, painfully tearing through the bondage of cultural and genetic programming that leaves one blind to what is illusion and what is truly real—what to most is unreachable and lies hidden behind a cloak of invisible reality, accessible only through the eye of the Shaman. Life in many ways has become an abstract science fiction movie, starring myself and those friends that I have in my immediate world that manage to hold on to some degree of clarity of mind.

How does one determine a degree of sanity in a world in which the rules that dictate our realities seem to shift in the moment? At times it is very difficult to differentiate between dream states. There are no borders in the dream time, as there is no space between ones thoughts. Quite frankly, sometimes there is no difference as they merge.

The Hopi Prophecy keeps coming to mind, in that time man will find that he lives in two worlds… My life has certainly become a testament to that. The sounds of Eagles playing in a nearby tree overhead brings me back to the reality of the ocean and the cliffs of Orcas Island. In that moment of hearing the Eagles cooing as they played, I became aware that there had been a lot of unusual incidents with Eagles recently. In fact, ever since I had made the commitment to doing the prophecy book and started working on Last Cry, Eagles were making their presence known very strong in my life.

Both for myself, and for those who came to see me on my Island retreat, the Eagles would touch our souls forever! The other day there was one sitting on the fence post, a huge female, by the side of the road. I slowed the car and rolled down my window. Softly but quietly, not being more then six feet away from her, I asked, Sister what are you doing on that fence post.

Well, she just turned around and shot me a look that said, Are you speaking to me? Then with slow motion, rendering my reality to the world of special effects, she spread her eight foot wingspan, lifted off, and began to spiral upwards towards the Sun. Two days ago, in the early morning while walking Mountain Lake, I literally almost walked right into a big Grandmother as I came around a large rock outcropping.

I startled her. She flew off with a huge Salmon in her talons.

The sound of her huge wings stopped my heart. She took off through the branches and flew over my head in a very close clockwise circle. She must have been only thirty feet or so above my head. I could see the Salmon she held in her talons that was still dripping with blood! Then there have been the two Eagles circling over my house every afternoon, one spotted and one mature bald male. Doing flight training, mastering the thermals, calling their excitement to father sky, they appeared to be father and son. Just yesterday while I was hiking in the woods, taking an afternoon break from carpentry work in the house and several weeks on the road doing retreat workshops, two Eagles were trying their skill at acrobatics, flying through the branches of the trees.

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Believe me, it is an awesome site to be witnessing two huge raptors not twenty feet away performing such acrobatics. This evening I have been sitting with my Sacred Pipe by the fire, half drifting off and out of my body, listening to Owls—maybe three, but at least two—in the grove of fir trees behind the house.

These Night Eagles were singing messages to me very loudly. Does the Owl Spirit bring me a divine message, or is it warning me of something mysterious, something ominous passing from this dream forever to some as yet unformed place?

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As I sat there, half drifting off into a dream state, wondering what this all meant, I kept pondering what the message to me was in all this… Then, it came! I shook myself upright with a start at hearing my own voice! I cried out loud as if there were anyone who could hear me. I was, after all, totally alone in my fire-lit log cabin. Every time I closed my eyes there was before me a great White Eagle. I distinctly heard the voice of the Eagle saying to me:.

And why is it, do you suppose, I never seem to gather in groups larger then two or three at a time? I do not suffer the stress of competition with others. Turning once again towards me, it stared at me through two huge yellow eyes with renewed intensity. It is only when you yourself are beyond need that you can affect change. For it is only when you are in your full power and not coming from the emotion of lack that you are fully capable of manifesting your chosen reality.

When you make your moves from the seat of your power, you will be truly be capable of affecting the world and changing condition.

God Says There are 7 Events Coming
Last Cry - Native American Prophecies & Tales of the End times Last Cry - Native American Prophecies & Tales of the End times
Last Cry - Native American Prophecies & Tales of the End times Last Cry - Native American Prophecies & Tales of the End times
Last Cry - Native American Prophecies & Tales of the End times Last Cry - Native American Prophecies & Tales of the End times
Last Cry - Native American Prophecies & Tales of the End times Last Cry - Native American Prophecies & Tales of the End times
Last Cry - Native American Prophecies & Tales of the End times Last Cry - Native American Prophecies & Tales of the End times
Last Cry - Native American Prophecies & Tales of the End times Last Cry - Native American Prophecies & Tales of the End times
Last Cry - Native American Prophecies & Tales of the End times Last Cry - Native American Prophecies & Tales of the End times

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