Ragona and the Dragons (a story)

[rainbowgrower]

Ragona inhaled from the spliff on the Kyarmo mountain in Japan, and
cleared her mind, the road had been long and hard, her pen was poised
but the words were stuck, the creek however cascaded on, never ending,
and the high reminded  her of candy canes lollypops and the aurora
borealis, suddenly she heard cosmic laughing, it was coming from the
little flower on her right. It was orange, and there were many leaves,
she did not know what kind of flower it was.
"Hey...uh, You wanna pass that?"
the flower asked,
Sure thing, friend, Ragona said, and passed the dutch.
the flower inhaled through the blossom, holding it between two leaves.
"Don't see many round these parts, often," said the flower, who spoke
in an amiable tone like seeds rustling in a cloth bag, or a falling
leaf.
"Sometimes its funny to see something moving around without any
apparent root, I can't help break my meditation and burst out laughing
when I see them, which isn't so often. Sometimes it gets lonely. I've
seen much happen upon this mountain, grasshopper, I've seen the
eternal truth here, and I have had no one to share it with, where
there is truth it seems living, thinking things will avoid it without
even knowing it as long as they live unless there is a miracle, so
with your coming, now I am not sure whether I have lost the truth, and
you are some delusionary ghost come to sweep me off into revery or
whether things have really begun to change in the world, if truth
grows in the natures of beings again, and the beauty and wisdom of all
nature with it."
Ragona just smiled and said, "I came to give Love!" for the sun had
risen to its blessed point and the dew was becoming ever more ethereal
in the canopy,
Four dragons descended on her then and swept her away across the sky,
gracefully tossing her measly body, aching from the long trail between
their maternal serpentine bodies. They displayed incredibly stability
mid flight.
Ragona thought to  herself indeed she must have become like the dew
then. As she was tossed to and fro, her aching stopped and she felt
weightless, one dragon carried her now, and she felt protected and
invulnerable in her pouch, which was almost like a kangaroo's.
The dragon was deep purple. and her scales were cold in the wind, but
Ragona's warm blood emanated and spread, where it did there was a
feint glow.
They fly for long, and as they flew the dragons cried, they fly so
fast the covered the skies many times in only a moment, and their
tears were bountiful, below it seemed like the rain.
Ragona was confused.

"Why are you crying, dragons, whats the deal?"

"We just have no idea whats going on anymore... We are constantly confused"

"Ragona understands the great mystery, they said, (sob) they said you
would be able to heal us, give us back our (sob) peace, to remember us
to our old ways, to our real purpose, so we can be (sob)  happy
again."

Ragona, smiled and hugged the large dragon from inside the pouch, she
invoked love.

The dragon suddenly realized the truth.

Woke up in an abandoned building, the windows were shattered in many
places but intact.
a feeling of great ecstasy and gayness came over him then and he threw
the viels from everything, from a place not upon his physical but his
spiritual body, connected to all things, Jah began to grow in his
vision, like the blessed mushrooms, which sprung everywhere, teaching
in a secret way, truth

What am I? I do not know,

I am wormwood.

just let everything be like water. The ghosts came upon us then, in
hearty and remedial humorous bouts, crossing for the widened eyes of
the cow sages who sat in fractal council
among the chaos which had collected among the nature. Living wildly, as cows do.

Gee, everything seems to be a cow to you, it all makes a trail, it
means nothing, nothing exists, can we really deny it? Our feelings
continue on, our feelings are the only truth, the first thing there,
is the feeling.

We made love gayly, as we gazed into eachothers eyes that night, I
remember the warmth in your hands, the way the lights were across your
face, when I touched you it was like touching myself.

Was it a strange conspiracy, was the ayahuasca being used to slowly
destroy places, I had no idea, really, maybe it was the wounded
healer, what do we really know, what source of knowledge can we really
trust? A plant growing peacefully, one with nature, anywhere, plant
anywhere, let seeds fly, don't think about it, it will be okay, we
can't classify it anymore, everything always changes, just as people
have moved.

We can't enslave plants, they must grow free, in nature, we are all
free, all eternally free, in nature, which means everything, when you
talk to the plants what do they say to you?

maybe it really is a kind of magical ritual, truly cosmic in
proportions, effecting the creation of worlds maybe that is why the
flower laughed. The beings, the fairies, and elves, the fifth
dimensional beings and beyond, are represented there, the  reality,
outside of our small sheltered world views, the big picture.

and elsewhere, also the soma grew, moonflowers and cannabis, all of it
grew, these plant gods, who healed the people, and revealed ultimate
reality, a brought consciousness back into the world of plants, and
magic, and healed the spirit, and the universe.

Aer filas sau akrne, Jah, the spirit of everything, Wakan Tanka,
working on us at all time, there is nothing but that, surrender to the
flower of love!

Don't be fooled, because, these are not words, they are shamanic
callings, something which no one quiet understands, divination, a
strange magnetism,

Martin Luther King Jr. and Maria Sabina, but what about it was the
esseential thing, hold love in all our doings, love purely and you are
filled with God, every single living  thing,, gives out  a vibration
we are all together, we all play purposes, we are all the revolution,
the universe itself its a revolution, at this shrine of time,
enveloped in the throes of our spell, sisters, we come together and we
look out into the mornings, just feeling the universe, everything
everything is everything else,
they stand for processes in ourselves. Everything is a part of you,
everything is happening for a reason, many are caught between two
worlds, but they are one world, we are two but we are one spirit.

there are so many directions, we thought of them all, even thinking
directions, everything made rivers and trees, everything was selfless
and full, and good,

Do you remember Wanti? When I see the stars, and when I hear the
planet. The magic of the Ancients is inside of us, some do it
subconsciously, intuitively,

We sang a song then, Ragona and the Dragons, who didnt have names,

trees are growing, every tree
in our rainbow family

we sang to get rid of the banshees
and for life

lucidity and every turns out right,

the arrivers from afar, everything happens for a reason, we are all
natives of the present moment.
Love, this is the greatest forest because there are no boundaries,
there is no division, everything is verily the tree of life, yakaw!

small antelopes hopped away with the canteloupes of life, spreading
them everywhere, every bush was another universe, we made holly tea
and rested there in the hill, ended up meditating for several
centuries on afternoon, after a particularly good peanut butter and
jelly sandly, upon concluding our practiced we were surrounded by
dense forest, indeed, this was a time for dragons, and a time for
dance, I talked animatedly with the trees, and often became a twig
myself, floating inconspicously among the high winds which permeated
the area, eventually I slipped away from my Dragon friends, though
they were good spirited, very wise, but I knew my loner's heart called
me away. I was after all, a humble cottage witch spreading love,
endlessly. the mice showed me a hidden trail, it was deeper into the
forest than I had ever gone before, what I saw there changed my life
forever...

we were magical wanderers who operated in a world hidden from view of
the ignorant, the peasants of each village, who were caught up in the
meager dramas of their small lives, totally ignorant of the realities
which slipped right under their fingers.

Our insanity was the first virtue of our culture, and it was all non
linear, we had saved the world many times, and blessed be, for within
and without woven was the mushroom fleece, rendered upon this planet
by Upto, in a period before time. There were sacred priests among us
then, though their forms were humble spry, gypsies like the rest,
their spirits were old.

Materia was real, it all weaved in an out, because it was pure, the
worlds the mythology which was hinted at in the most funny places,
actually took us the deepest, and taught us the most, things a more
serious person might disregard. Thats why I loved the hippies, and
strived to learn their way, I realized it was not so different from
the zen way, it was a tribal way, not so much a label but a reality,
an enlightened sense of being. When my heart was scattered across the
world, after my death, and I returned to everything, there was so much
I was happy about, I was happy I didn't let the pressures totally
distract me and let myself flow freely, I knew that the energies were
used to heal worlds, somehow, they tried to make you forget  subtley,
but I never would, that wild way, it betrays even the letters, which
encapsulate it. I sent out energies and grounded myself in the wood,
it seemed that the ruined of reactors were beings constructed, some
kind of magical rite, my intent was to recycle as much as possible,
move the glass. and in this way ensure the prosperity of the forest.
The faery protection spell was strong on the place.

Any who tried to disturb its sanctity would be magically warned by the
enchantment, and then if they disregarded, turned into a plant!