Dreams

Madak Wando

Description

Dreams writings.
Formerly, the name given to a child by a shaman, described the personality, the Being.
Madak Wando, a medicine man, from the Abenakis Nation,
lived in the 17th century.
His name means: Human Spirit.
Alternatively, the human who speaks with the spirits.
Also decried by the Roman Catholic Church as:
the human demon.

Sujets

• Spirit
• Dream
• Magic
• Sword
• Demon
• Abenaki people
• Healing
• Chamán

Informations

• Publié par: leseditionskennebec
• Date de parution: 04 février 2019
• Nombre de lectures: 8
• EAN13: 978-0-9940861
• Langue: English

Extrait

Kennebec Editions
www.k ennebec editions .com
[e-mail]
 
Dreams Kennebec Editions 2015
All rights reserved
 
ISBN :        Dreams.AZW3        :        978-0-9940861-4-3
       Dreams.EPUB          :        978-0-9940861-3-6
       Dreams.MOBI         :        978-0-9940861-2-9
Dreams.PDF         :        978-0-9940861-7-4
Dreams.RTF        :        978-0-9940861-0-5
 
Madak Wando
 
Collaborator:
Consultant edition: Mini Génie
 
Legal deposit
Bibliothèque et Archives nationales du Québec 2015
Library and Archives of Canada 2015
 
Reproduction, total or partial, in all its forms are all rights reserved.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
I thank my wife, my daughter for their support , and Mini Géni for its indispensable contribution to the realization of this dream.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
Dreams
 
 
 
 
 
Table of Contents
Apprentice
The Voice
The Teacher
The Fire
Spirits of Stone
Healing
Magic
Medicine Man
The Sword
Master

 
 
Formerly ,
the name given to a child by
a shaman,
described the personality, the Being.
Madak Wando ,
a m edicine man,
from the Abenaki s Nation,
liv ed in the 17th century.
His name means:
Human Spirit.
Alternatively,
the human who speaks
with the spirits.
Also decried by the
Roman Catholic Church as :
the human demon.
 
 
 
 
 
 
App r entice
 
I am in the slope of a magnificent c hurch, built with a majestic architecture.
I know all the areas, explored each racoin .
Born in this neighborhood , I spent my entire childhood.
I walk in the promena de that runs along its walls.
Heaps of stones carved marble are collected on the outskirts, placed in mounds, carefully classified, stored.
They originate from the edifice, which will be completely dismantled, from the steeple to the f oundation.
The church will be rebuilt with th e same , all perfect, intact.
Each stone has its pla ce, allowing the whole to be.
Only the cement that binds them must be redone.
Among these mountains , w hich border the trail, I look at a cluster.
They are gargoyles, all sculpted with incredible meticulousness.
On the back of each demon, unfolds the outdoor, flat surface.
These evil spirits have been walled up, hidden in the empty and dark.
Prisoners, people do no t see them.
They are portrayed as misshapen, ugly, tortured and deta iled with incredible accuracy.
I am dumbfounded, amazed.
I am aware of the occasion I have to observe thes e wonderful works , in an obscure retreat, for more than a hundred years.
The a ttention to detail s impresses me.
And all this will go back into oblivion.
I a m heading to wards the pathway leading to the main entrance.
A large part of the two bell towers, roof, walls , is disassembled.
I see the master c hief accompanied by several workers busy to remove one by one the slabs of the portico, then , moved delicately to protected places.
The Architect looks at me, angry, yells :
“ If you want to be my apprentice, you gotta listen to me. ”
Astounded , I am both baffled by the excessive intensity of his assertion, and the honour it is for me.
 
Among all these experienced employees, the Master means me to be his apprentice.
Asking the employees to step back, says:
“ Select you r tools, continue their work.”
I know well the implements .
I used them many times, in several metiers .
I might pick one up among other things; remove much more quickly, without breaking, several rows of these flagstones.
Instead, I lean, kneel down, take two scalpels and carefully insert them between two joints, while producing rapid vibrations, until I encounter a slight movement.
A barely perc eptible effect tells me that it is released from the grip of the ground.
Using the thumb and middle of each hand, I capture it with respect, returning the piece of rock upside down.
Inside, a bas-relief is carved .
A family eats around a table.
Parents, friends, neighbors , acquaintances are sitting, standing, or near the fireplace locate d in the background of the room .
There is an atmosphere of warmth, sharing and love .
I enter into the block, viewing from the back outward s .
I a m overthrown by such thoroughness.
The characters, furniture s , utensils, nice decorations, walls of bricks, ceiling, floor, are so carefully represented .
I'm surprised by so much effort, applied on a small work, that few people have the chance to see, which in addition , will be