Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Wicht" data-source="post: 317417" data-attributes="member: 221">DreamsTilliana lay in her crib, fussing at her father over her.  Nearby, Tilliana’s mother was working with something at the stove and on the floor by the crib, her brother was playing with a toy sword.  Despite the close presence of her family, Tilliana felt anxious, alone and scared.  She felt trapped and frightened.“Hush,” said her Father, sticking something into her hands.  She looked at it closely.  It was a pure white feather.  Stroking it she cooed and felt a little better.“A swan feather for my little princess.  Would you like to hear a song little one?”Tilliana smiled up at her father. He smiled back and tickling her face with the feather he sang her a song with a curious tune.“When you stand upon the sand,with a feather in your hand,say oldama…say oldama“When the dangers fill the night And the dragon takes to flightThen you stand upon the sand and take the feather in your handand say oldama…say oldama…“Oldama is a word to noteOldamas what the elves call boatAnd the feather turns to woodAnd takes you where you can be goodSo when the dangers fill the night And the dragon takes to flightThen you stand upon the sand and take the feather in your handand say oldama…Say oldama…”</blockquote>