This is a dream I had while on a pilgramige to Malta, about how the huge megalithic temples were built.
It will be presented with my art at the Sebastopol Center for the Arts Gallery II in June and July 2008.

The People with Spirits Strong as Stone
©by Caren Catterall

Once upon a time, when time was round and marked by the moon and the cycle of the seasons, The People lived in harmony on a tiny island in the middle of a turquoise sea. The People were peaceful and joyous and each one was honored for their unique gifts that created the warp and weft of life. The mothers were honored as life givers, the men honored for holding the balance and weaving strength into the basket of life. The children were honored for their potential, the artists and musicians for speaking the language of the psyche, the crones for their wisdom; the plants and animals were honored for their spirit as well.

The People celebrated the wheel of the year and watched the cycles of life, noting that the life forces were followed by death and regeneration, which in the perfect symmetry of the circle, fed life once again. The People built temples to celebrate the seasons of life, singing the huge stones into place with their joy and uplifted hearts, and with help from the pull of the sparkling stars.

One day the fabric of life was snagged upon a sharp word and began to unravel. The warp and weft left openings where spirit fell through, and The People sensed a danger of losing their container of life. A great council was called and The People decided that in order to keep the container strong that they would make it out of stone. The People gathered at the temples to draw in the spirit of life and regeneration, stamping their feet and dancing upon the Great Mother, clapping their hands to their heartbeats, until all were bound together in their vision and intention. Then, with a great merging of minds and molecules The People became one with the stones of the temples, aligning themselves with the sun and the moon and the stars, in order to point the way, that their spirit be not lost, that the circle of life be not forgotten.

And time curled 'round them like a contented cat laying down for a long, long nap.