The Woodland Pool This is a gentle sleep talkdown.
That will take you back to the haven.
In the still days of summer.
This can also be done when you want a nap.
Make yourself comfortable.
And close your eyes.
Take a slow,
Steady breath in.
And softly breathe out.
Again.
Inhale,
Exhale.
Allow your body to grow heavy.
Your mind to grow quiet.
The haven basks under a summer sun.
The fields are ripe.
And in a few weeks will be harvested.
But today.
Nothing seems to move in the still warm air.
You can hear grasshoppers chirring from the hayfield and the twitter of a little bird in the hot afternoon.
But everything else.
Seems to be quiet.
Only half awake.
This morning.
You found a note from the old lady.
That she must have put through your letterbox.
She wrote that today.
If you feel hot.
You should have a walk.
In your little word.
Since the old lady's suggestions usually mean something.
And you can clearly imagine her knowing smile.
You decide to do this.
And leaving your home.
You cross the quiet lane.
As you enter the woods.
You are enfolded in a gentle,
Calming coolness.
The path winds gently before you,
Meandering through the tall,
Graceful trees,
And shafts of sunlight spear through the thick canopy of leaves.
Illuminating patches of grass.
And small wildflowers so that they seem gilded.
Birdsong echoes softly in the distance,
Like a lullaby from the woodland itself.
You hear the little stream,
Untroubled by heat.
And as you reach the footbridge,
You pause to look down at the sparkling,
Light dappled water.
You listen to its cheerful babble.
And watch it tumble past,
Crystal clear.
After a moment,
You continue on slowly The little path winds gently in no hurry.
Just as you are not.
These are the dark days of summer.
When serious.
The Donk Star.
Appears at dawn before the sun rises.
They are still,
Quiet days when everyone in the haven pursues only the gentlest of activities.
And the evenings seem to last forever.
Now you reach the glade of the great oak.
It has seen so many summers pass.
And seems to dream through the heat.
You touch its gnarled bark.
Which is as friendly as an old rough hand,
Steadying and reassuring you.
The cool grass still grows thick around its roots,
And the leaves give a little rustle as if it greets you.
Often you sit down here,
Cradled by its roots.
But now.
.
.
It seems as if you are encouraged to walk around its mighty trunk.
And as you come to the furthest side you see a tiny path.
The whisper of the leaves.
Seems to open it to you.
Drawing back.
The branch's former green tunnel.
Without hesitation.
You accept this invitation.
And follow the new path.
Accompanied by the friendly murmur of the leaves.
After a moment,
It opens to another glade small and sheltered,
And you see a clear pool in the shape of a half moon.
Short grass encircles the curve,
And the flat edge is fine,
Pale sand.
And water is perfectly still.
So clear.
It seems like a frozen crystal.
This is clearly a gift to you and you take off your shoes and slowly enter the water You expect it to be cold.
But it is perfect,
Like a tide pool when the sea goes out,
Heated by the sun.
It is not very deep and the floor is of the same firm sand as the little beach at the further end.
Is a moulded rock that looks carved almost into the shape of a chair.
Anywhere else.
You would have said that this was caused by ages of water.
But this is the haven.
And you rather suspect it was made for you.
It allows you to sit in the silky embrace of the water.
You relax,
Listening to gentle birdsong.
The faint sigh of a breeze in the tops of the trees.
The water soothes you,
As if it is liquid light.
The very essence of the haven.
The next thing you notice is that the light has become deeper.
Emerald green through the water still shines pure and clear.
You leave your rock chair.
And cross to the little beach.
To collect your clothes.
Then sit on the short,
Velvety grass.
Feeling yourself dry.
You return up the little path and pause to thank the great oak,
Before retracing your steps through the wood and across the lane to your house.
You must have been in that secret pool for some time.
For the sky is now glowing with the sunset.
You feel relaxed but light as you take your tea out into the garden to enjoy it.
Very slowly a luminous dusk falls.
And the last birds sing,
Then fall silent.
An owl hoots from somewhere close to the fairy wood.
Make your way to bed.
The windows open to the gentle night.
And look out to where the stars are beginning to shine.
In the sky of midnight blue.
A pleasant sleepiness falls upon you,
And you go to bed.
Stretching and relaxing.
You close your eyes,
Feeling as if that little pool behind the great oak is a place of healing,
Like so many places in the haven.
Your breaths become slower.
As you begin to sink toward sleep.
You are completely at ease.
Completely at peace.
Allow yourself to drift.
Gently.
Effortlessly.
Into the soothing depth.
Of sleep.
