Mystical Animals with Supernatural Gifts

Tension turned to chuckles when I saw my Mystical Dog's eyes wink at me.

The winter moon was rising over the river. I tried not to feel nervous about tonight's performance.

Scents of the ocean and wet fir trees after the rain evoked dreams of the Mystic Beach. My ethereal creature wagged his tail and smiled at me.

The notes for tonight's presentation sitting in my pocket begged me to take another look.

"Was this going to be good enough? Or was it a mistake?"

The wheels of my supernatural dog's mind were always turning.

"What's he up to now?"

He read my thoughts. "Don't worry, everything will be fine." Waves of his psychic communication came to me.

I was planning on presenting my latest creative writing poetry about my Mystical Dog in front of an audience. "Open Mic Poetry Slam" night waited for me inside the Art Center of our remote village.

"Like whispers of wind,

A magical creature,

Whimsy and mischief,

In every feature.

Ethereal play,

Starry eyes gleaming,

Midnight fur,

Loyalty streaming.

Supernatural art,

Psychic energy flows,

Thoughts in the heart,

He always knows.

A rogue, a rascal,

Sunshine and sea,

Grateful you came,

To live with me."  

"My Dog, Coos Bay Bear," by Kristi Marie

I felt the energies of imagination flowing into us. We stepped into the Art Center Gallery. The air vibrated. Creativity sent sparks. Energy and magic flowed into us.

A sign on the door said, "Pets Welcome."

I saw the light glow of an aura pulsing around my mystical canine companion, Coos Bay Bear. We walked toward the bright indoor lights for camouflage.

Coos Bay Bear walked quietly at my side. My creature's ethereal origins, supernatural gifts, and psychic communication expressed themselves in many ways.

Coos Bay Bear presented himself as a canine. He has a mischievous nature. Playing jokes on people is one of his favorite amusements.

"If you get excited," I whispered to him, "please don't blast your rainbow aura beam on the walls inside tonight."

Laughter floated to my mind sent from Coos Bay Bear.

"I hear that." He rolled puppy eyes at me. I giggled.

Coos loved to startle people with the bursts of magical light rays of color. They would look around for an alien or magician, while Coos sent his gales of laughter to me.

"Please," I said. "We need to keep a low profile."

His dark eyes pierced mine, and I sensed his soft, psychic thoughts come in waves to my mind. "I will take good care of you, Kristi Marie, you can trust me."

"I know, love." I sent the thought back to him. He looked at me with big puppy eyes and blinked several times.

Stepping forward, I knew my eyes and face wore a smile now.

Inside the brightly lit room, his shimmers and sparkles did not show, and he was able to blend in with the creative group.

It was a dog-friendly venue but I smiled to myself, thinking. "Did that include magical creatures disguised as regular dogs too?"

"Were there any other mystical creatures using dog transformations for camouflage here?"

Reading my creative writing to a group made me nervous, but with my "therapy dog" with me I felt better. He was keeping his supernatural gifts hidden.

I tried to breathe slowly and calmly. The Art Center filled up with more people.

We heard voices and soft music from the art gallery. The lighting inside made it look cozy.

Everything seemed to have a sparkling glow. A happy feeling flowed out from the gallery.

I began to feel the same way I felt at Mystical Beach where magic seemed to float into me from the morning fog. A creative feeling.

A woman’s voice came from the back of the big room.

“Welcome everyone to our Open Mic “Poetry Slam” and Creative Sharing tonight at the Mystic Beach Art and Performance Center.”

The announcer wore a jaunty hat tilted on her long hair that half-covered one eye.

I looked around and saw a spunky terrier, two brown and white beagles, an Australian Shepherd, and a black Great Dane.

Coos and I smiled. This was our kind of group.

I drew a quick breath when I saw a bright red Irish Setter. The dog's feathered tail was high, waving slowly.

“Hello, Kristi Marie! We are so glad you brought your dog too!” Sandy, the announcer, greeted me, with sparkling eyes.

“Thank you. I’m a little nervous. My throat feels so tight,” I said.

“Maybe Coos will have to read this for me. I’m not sure I can do it.” I laughed.

“The group used to be so much smaller. All these people scare me a little. So many whom I don’t know.”

“Public speaking is a common fear. I understand,” said Sandy.

I walked over to a corner, pretended to look at paintings, and breathed deeply. In a mirror, I saw the figure of a woman.

She had pale hair in braids ornamented with colorful beads.

On her head was a poet’s fedora decorated with a colorful, striped, hand-woven Peruvian hat band. The brim sat low on her face.

There were two greenish eyes. Handmade, colorful seed-bead earrings from South America hung down to her shoulders.

It was as if I was seeing someone else. But it was me.

At her side stood a large, black Labrador retriever mix, wearing a multi-colored bandana on his neck.

“Hello there Coos Bay Bear and Kristi Marie,” said a woman’s voice.

I tried to reply but my voice seemed to have a catch in it, so I smiled, nodded, and waved.

It had been several years since I did the Open Mic. The group used to be smaller.

Was I being hasty? Would these readings go over okay?

Earlier that day, Coos Bay Bear went to the beach with me. When we arrived, Coos and I slipped through the thick rainforest growth on the narrow Secret Path.

There was another beach nearby known as “Leprechaun Beach.” Legends said it had energy portals to the ethereal world.

Coos stuck close to me like Velcro. The mourning doves were cooing. We were alone in vast miles of wilderness and stretches of sand dunes.

We might have been people from thousands of years ago, looking for greens and herbs in the pristine forest.

The whoosh of ocean swells hitting the sand filled the air. We walked into the fog and through the tidepools.

I began to feel a strange lightness, and my body sensation became more weightless. Coos jumped through some ocean wavelets and smiled at me.

Energy from the supernatural portal bathed us. A sense of wonder grew as the sun rose higher in the sky.

Later, we hiked back through the forest enchantment, feeling refreshed. Tonight was the “Open Mic” for reading creative writing. Coos and I needed to be mentally prepared.

I brought my thoughts back to the Art Center Gallery where Coos and I stood now.

Using meditation to start my psychic communication with Coos I sent a message to him. "Nervous about tonight.”

“I always know how you are feeling, Kristi Marie. I can tell the scents of the perfumes of your moods. My eyes see into you. I’m here. For you,” he said.

***************

Coos Bay Bear Uses Psychic Communication to Tell His Story of the “Open Mic Poetry Slam” ----

I knew Kristi Marie was unsure about how the creative writing she has would be received. When she tried to speak to someone her voice was catching.

Now I see her drinking water as if something is wrong with her throat.

Many of my gifts and talents are still unknown to her. I may need to open my channels and let more Mystical Creature abilities flow into me. What else can I do?

Keeping my Labrador retriever’s smile on my face, I greeted some more people and wagged my tail as they petted me.

Some of them startled a little when they looked into my eyes, sensing I was seeing more than their outer, physical self. I tried not to look so knowing.

“Now for our first “Open Mic” performance I will reach into the jar and draw out a name,” said Sandy.

The crowd was sitting in a semi-circle of chair rows around the microphone at the front.

“Aaaannnd. The first “Open Mic” tonight will beeee……….Kristi Marie and Coos Bay Bear.”

I felt Kristi Marie’s heart lurch a little. She smiled and we got up and walked to the front. We could feel all the eyes on us.

I did a Mystical Creature meditation and prayer on the way up to the microphone with Kristi Marie.

When we got there she went to the mic and said, “Hello, everyone,” but the mic was malfunctioning. A man came up, checked the cords, and did something to the speakers.

He stepped carefully around the musical instruments leaning against the wall. The singers and musicians were going to try out new songs on us tonight.

Kristi Marie was holding the paper with the creative writing and I could see it was one of my favorite poems.

The man came over to the mic, “Testing..testing…testing…It’s ok now, go ahead.”

Kristi Marie smiled, sat down at the mic, and I sat next to her like Velcro stuck to her.

She said, “This is some writing from a fantasy story. Please take some slow, deep breaths, close your eyes, and open your minds. We will take a journey to the world of the Mystical Beach Magic.”

The room grew quiet and it was less intimidating when everyone closed their eyes.

As Kristi Marie talked in a low voice, barely above a whisper, the mic amplified it.

There was a hesitation and Kristi Marie looked deeply into my eyes. I felt a change happening. All day since our walk at the Mystical Beach I felt magic coming over me.

The crowd’s eyes remained closed. Kristi Marie paused, and I sent her a psychic message.

“Leave it to me. Follow my lead.” She kept watching me closely, smiled, and nodded.

It was very quiet inside the art gallery. I linked up with her by using meditation and got our psychic communication going.

I gathered all of my Mystical Dog gifts and talents, concentrating hard. The whole crowd sat with eyes closed, meditating.

It was working. The dogs were receiving my psychic messages.

Without a sound, the dogs quietly streamed up to the front of the room.

I wagged my tail and smiled at them. They waved back with their paws. Then the dogs walked toward the musical instruments at the back.

With a wink at me, the black great dane grabbed a guitar in his paws. Then, doing a quick dance, the poodle sat down at the drums. Leaping lightly, the beagles went to sit at a keyboard. Tails held high, the two chihuahuas picked up wooden flutes. Then the mini-Australian shepherd wiggled his body all over and stood ready to make sound effects.

My band of dogs were ready. I raised a paw and when I brought it down they started playing soft music together. They created sound effects too. A mourning dove’s coos were faintly heard.

The wind moving through the trees and rustling leaves were in the background. Even a light sound of whooshing waves was there.

The drums, strings, flute, and keyboard took their turns, sounding like the enchanted beach and forest. Birds. Wind. Water.

It was exactly as if we were all at Mystic Beach and it was magical.

Then I reached even deeper into my concentration and managed to throw my thoughts into a real voice, sounding like a tenor speaking a little above a whisper, but heard over the soft background music and sounds.

I was relieved to find I could really do it.

Kristi Marie’s mouth was wide open with amazement. Her eyes were round and big. I could hear her mind saying, “Wow, Coos.”

From the paper in Kristi Marie’s hand, I got ready to read her poems in my newly found tenor voice, lilting musically. The music and sound effects continued.

“We are now entering the world of Mystic Beach Magic,” I said.

The audience seemed to draw in their breath together, sitting with eyes closed.

“Where a sense of wonder is in the air,” I said in a resonant, smooth, sing-song tenor.

I had to keep from laughing at Kristi Marie’s surprised face. I wanted to thump my tail but I controlled myself.

In a rhythmic tenor voice I began to read poems over the mic.

"Stars and sand, seas and tides,

Moonglow, sunset, dawn of dreams,

Mystic Beach of light and mist

Magic in the sunshine beams.”

Rainforest paths,

Wilderness deep,

Animals, trees,

Secrets they keep."

Inspiration of the Oregon Coast

“Tree muses awaken,

From Rainforest Dreams,

Sending visions on raindrops,

In tree language streams.”

“Whispers of leaves,

Songs of the streams,

Black Bear sends thoughts,

Of Rainforest Dreams.”

“In the celestial rain

Cougars’ spirits awaken,

Sending courage to us,

And our fears are taken.”

“Power and passion,

Flows from Elk’s heart,

Radiant antlers,

Sparks a new start.”

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Here is the next poem.

Looking at the Night Sky on the Oregon Coast

“Canopies of nebulas,

Eons of a cosmic lore,

Galaxies of time and stories,

Stardust calls us to explore.”

“Where solar winds are singing

Songs beyond a farthest star

Space music plays a cosmic dance

Lightyear footsteps, far from far.”

“Time Bender of the aura glow

Valleys of the endless space

Creatures from the curves of time

Infinity the endless place.”

There was silence as the people sat, eyes closed.

There was a pause now, and the dogs put the instruments back and silently went back to sit by their human companions.

I still sat in front of the mic with Kristi Marie. She leaned over to the mic and spoke.

“Everyone you can open your eyes now. Thank you for traveling with us as we created some moments of Mystical Beach Magic."

People looked sleepy and rubbed their eyes. Then they began clapping and making finger snaps. Snapping fingers is another way the audience at the creative writing slams shows their appreciation.

“Hey, how did you make that recording? I loved it!” a woman’s voice said.

“Can we get a copy of the recording you just played? That guy reading the poetry had a voice so perfect for the poems. The background music and sounds were perfect too!” a man said.

“Thank you,” someone said.“It was almost as if Coos Bay Bear was talking to us himself.”

“Coos and I are so happy you enjoyed it,” Kristi Marie said.

We looked out at the dogs sitting with their two-legged friends and they gave us winks and smiles.

“Yes, it was so real,” came another woman’s voice. The room was full of light chatter.

Another person said, “I feel like the Mystical Beach Magic is filling me up with inspiration.”

I raised both my ears, and opened my mouth wide to show my white teeth gleaming against my black coat.

Kristi Marie looked at me and we leaned into each other.

Our secret was safe. We started laughing.