The Star Flower | A Sleep Story (The Haven)

A sleep story for all ages. In this “Borderlands” guided sleep meditation story (set in our fantasy world called The Haven), we will learn of a secret grove deep within the tall woods of the Borderlands. It is said that sometimes a flower blooms there — the Star Flower — but that it is almost a myth. No-one has ever seen it, but perhaps, with guidance, you will.

This guided sleep meditation story can help you reach a state of deep relaxation and fall asleep fast. Set in the delightful fantasy world of The Haven, now extending out to the area known as The Borderlands. This guided sleep meditation story is part of your ongoing journey to explore this new, yet undiscovered area of The Haven.

Enjoy the sleepy zen of the gentle storytelling, showing you the way to healing and empowerment as you enter deep relaxation and enjoy this deep sleep meditation.

Transcript

This guided audio sleep recording is designed to provide a gentle and pleasant experience,

Where you can relax and drift off to sleep.

It is presented in the form of a story set in a mythical village known as the Haven and is one of many other stories you can find in our Haven series.

In a few moments you will embark on a pleasant and gentle journey of visualisation that will take place within your mind.

First make yourself comfortable,

Close your eyes and take a few long deep breaths.

Now just fall into a natural breathing pattern and enjoy this immersive experience.

It is one of those days when the world seems to shimmer in shades of green.

You pause for a moment outside your front door and breathe in the air which is mild and rich and clean.

The old lady is just coming out of her cottage and you both continue down the lane.

The sun is warm between the hedgerows and fragrant with blossom and warm grass.

It is a day of serenity you think,

Quiet and benevolent,

A Goldilocks day when the weather is perfect.

The farmers have begun haying and the scent of the long cut grass is like a drowsy perfume over the land.

The old manor when you reach it looks peaceful and warm under the sun.

The old man stands within the open front door and invites you inside.

You are guided to a large sunny room.

What you have seen of the house is welcoming,

The furniture old but lovingly cared for.

There is a faint smell of beeswax polish and the first roses of the summer.

They have been picked,

Put in pretty vases and are shaking out their petals of red,

Pink,

White and gold.

On the wall pictures hang,

Scenes of the haven.

You recognize the places and wonder if the old gentleman painted them himself.

There is also a map like the one given to you by the old lady.

In this room you can see the back garden,

The lawn has been neatly mowed but the rest has a sylvan look,

Unmanicured,

Alive with flowers stretching to an orchard.

The old man thanks you for coming as the tea is served.

There is everything that you like and as well as the tea,

Fresh coffee and cold drinks.

The conversation is gentle and pleasant and all the while the gentle air drifts soundlessly into the bright room.

When the tea is finished you allow your eyes to wander around the paintings again surveying them with greater attention.

One of them done in cool misty greens particularly draws your eye.

The old man tells you that it is the grove and directs your attention to the map.

Getting up to look you see that a path is shown leading from the old manor.

It winds through the garden and orchard and beyond across a meadow and into thick woodland.

The grove is in the centre and in it there is a simple sketch of a flower.

It is the star flower the old lady tells you and she smiles.

You go back and sit down as she explains.

There are some parts of the haven where what we might call the magic of the fae and their world bubbles up like underground springs.

There you might find things that exist in their world and the star flower is one of them.

The old man nods in agreement.

He says that it blooms so rarely no one has ever seen it.

It is almost a myth.

You would need signs he says and an invitation.

You enjoy your visit to the manor.

It may be a big house but it looks warm,

Welcoming and feels friendly.

The gardens when you walk around them are lovely and the old man clearly spends a lot of time in them.

He shows you the orchard where the apple blossom lays like snow on the grass.

He points to the gate on the far side that leads toward woodland in the middle distance.

There he says is the grove,

It's not very far.

You walk slowly back to your house,

Departing from the old lady beside her gate.

She leaves you with the words that you should know all about signs and invitations having been in the haven for quite a time now.

You think about the white stag and the items that seem to have been left for you about the haven.

Thinking about this you go home and later to bed.

It is a still night.

You have your window open a little to the mild air and only the breathy hoot of an owl calls across the woods and fields.

You are so comfortable in your bed with its clean freshly laundered sheets that you sink quickly into sleep.

But later you think or dream that you get up and look out of your window.

Your awakening is gentle as always but something in your subconscious has prompted you to come back to consciousness.

The land is silvered by moonlight and there stands the white stag like a statue in the windless night.

You do not remember even long after going down the stairs and out of your door.

The stag waits on the lane and only when you approach does it move,

A toss of its head indicating that you follow.

Its hooves make no sound on the tarmac.

It is silent as mist as it walks.

You follow.

The night is mild and so still that as you pass the wood you can hear the rustle and flutter of roosting birds in the branches and the tiny scutter of a field mouse in the ditch.

You pass the old lady's cottage,

Its lights out and sleeping among its gardens.

You seem to float rather than walk through the dreaming landscape,

The familiar surroundings attaining a numinous quality under the gilding of the moon.

Yet you are still aware of the safety of the haven.

The protectiveness that guards those who come here and the physical evidence of it in the stag that paces stately as a king before you,

Both a guide and a guardian.

You can sense the gentle,

Quiet sleep of the inhabitants of the haven,

The restfulness of the night.

The lane turns to the left down toward the village and harbour and the great clouds of mayblossom from the hawthorn trees gleam white and scent the air.

The lane seems to carry its own faint glow,

Allowing you to see the turn that takes you toward the station and beyond it to the old manor.

The stationmaster's house is quiet as you pass it.

The trees along the lane are coming into full leaf and the white stag passes through the dappled light of the moon,

White coat shining.

A little further and you see the old manor,

A dark shape against the moon and stars.

The house slumbers peacefully but the front gates are open to the lawns and you pass through them.

Jew is beginning to show on the short grass but you do not feel it and the stag as he walks leaves no trace.

You cross the lawn to the orchard and in the stillness petals begin to fall on the stag and upon your head and shoulders.

It feels like a gentle yet magical blessing.

At the end of the orchard is another gate.

This too is open and beyond lies a path across a small meadow.

At the end tall trees rise into the clear night holding the stars in their topmost branches.

The stag pauses at the tree line,

Head raised,

Then seems to vanish as he steps in.

A moment later you see the small track that enters the wood and follow.

This wood is not like the one opposite your house or even the green dark mystery of the fairy wood.

This is a place on the borderlands and the trees here rise like sentinel guardians.

Their trunks are pale as pillars in some immense cathedral,

Fanning out to tops like clouds.

But the moonlight filters down giving everything a misty luminescence.

The path winds between the trees and white flowers grow beside it,

Releasing a faint cool scent into the air.

It feels as if this wood is far bigger than it should be,

Or perhaps it is the dreamlike quality of the night.

At last the stag stops before what looks like a solid wall of greenery that blocks the path.

You approach cautiously,

Seeing the light glint from great thorns.

You stop,

Looking at the stag who tosses his great head and steps aside.

Carefully you put forth your hand and then with a rustling sigh the greenery draws back,

Opening a space.

Each side the thorns glint,

But nothing touches you as you walk through.

Within is the grove,

A cool place of green shadows and misty moonlight.

You look up and see the blaze of a big star shining directly down.

In the centre a bush grows to about your height.

You see that it has narrow,

Shiny leaves,

But there are no blooms.

Once again you stop,

Listening for any guidance or clue as to what you must do.

The star shines down brilliantly and its light feels warm on your hand.

You simply think that you have been allowed to come here and are grateful for it.

A whispering sigh runs through the grove.

You can almost make out words,

But the language is ancient and you cannot grasp the meaning.

And then there is movement.

The bush shivers.

Light runs up its stems and leaves and before you opens a flower.

Its slim petals spread out like a star,

Glowing,

And the scent of its perfume is like nothing you have ever known.

There is a silver glint to it,

It could be fashioned from metal or gleaming white marble.

You stare at it in wonder and put out your hand,

But before you can touch it,

It falls of its own accord directly into your palm.

There is a kind of weight to it,

As if it is a brooch or a piece of jewellery rather than a flower.

As you look at it,

You hear a voice running through the grove,

Quiet yet powerful,

That tells you to keep this very safe.

Turning,

You retrace your steps,

Still floating in a dreamlike state.

The stag waits for you and there is knowledge in the great eyes as he sees the star flower.

This you know is why he led you here.

In a smooth movement,

He lowers himself and waits,

And you know that you are meant to ride on his back.

In daylight hours,

You may not have even considered it,

But now it seems simply a part of the strange night.

The stag rises smoothly and breaks into a run.

There is no jolting,

No sense that you might fall.

It feels quite natural as he passes back down the path between the great trees and out into the meadow.

The speed creates the only breeze you have felt that windless night.

The stag crosses through the orchard,

The garden of the old manor and into the lanes that lead you home.

The land still sleeps,

The moon and stars alone witness your ride.

At the gate to your cottage,

The stag lowers himself once again and when you are standing on the quiet road,

Bows its head in a farewell gesture and walks away.

You enter your home and go up to your bedroom.

Going to the window,

You look across the dark fields,

Thinking you can see the white gleam of the stag as it vanishes toward the fairy wood.

You look down at the flower,

Examining it more closely.

The white petals are radiant and seem to hold a faint glitter like the sunlight striking upon fresh snow.

The aroma is still delicate and fresh.

You wonder what it represents,

What it means and think you will talk about it to the old lady tomorrow.

Something tells you that she will not be surprised you were gifted it.

As you breathe in the fragrance,

A great wave of sleepiness comes over you.

It is as though the perfume is gently soporific now,

Inviting you to sleep after your quest.

You place the flower in a drawer of your nightstand and climb into bed.

The moonlight upon the walls is pale and calm,

Shivering now as a little rising breeze ruffles the trees.

You make yourself comfortable and close your eyes.

There will be a great deal to think about tomorrow,

But for now you need to sleep.

You drift slowly into dreams of a shadowy wood,

A green and secret grove in its heart and the star flower blooming.

Reviews

Thank you🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻Used this story throughout the night. Only now, in the early morning hours, I got to hear the full story, and I realized how quickly I had fallen asleep each time during the night. Totally enjoyed it🙏🏻🌟🌟🌟🌟🌟🙏🏻

Lovely!

A magical story beautifully read, with lovely background music. One I will come back to again. 🙏