The Blue Wolf Came.
Dreams; Journeys; Memories- Rich with meaning, metaphor and symbology.
I had this presence arrive as I journeyed through the night-
I was stopped in my tracks at its sight, totally mesmerised with delight.
I instantly felt deep recognition.
An ancient memory surfaced from within.
I heard the wolf’s call reach out,
reminding me of who I am
And who I’ve been long before this time began.
Such a gift I felt within-
Just when I needed to break a spell.
Along she came:
The Blue Wolf.
She stared right through me, stirring something deep within, touching my core, my bones, the stardust before the form.
I felt her say:
“The grid remembers you.
And I, as your archetype,
I am how the field speaks back to remind you.
You have arrived.
Another threshold crossed.
I am here to meet you- and we walk together, here on in.”
She does not howl for the pack.
She howls because she remembers.
A note of something older than speech, truer than lineage,
freer than form.
The Blue Wolf walks between.
Not beast. Not myth.
Not here to be tamed or turned into a tale.
She is the tale- the living memory of coherence before collapse.
Her fur holds the twilight.
Her eyes, the frost of distant stars.
She watches from the threshold
Where wild meets wisdom.
She does not lead to be followed.
She leads because the path remembers her steps.
Born of Sirius-blue and earth-blooded strength, she carries the rare code:
Truth without performance.
Presence without approval.
Sovereignty without spectacle.
Those who see her are not dreamers.
They are the called.
Gridwalkers.
Soul-guides.
Those whose longing is not for escape, but for embodiment.
You who feel her-
You are not here to belong.
You are here to anchor the memory
Of what could never be owned.
The Blue Wolf is your mirror.
Not a guardian.
A reflection.
The one who walks alone,
But never lonely- because the field remembers what the world forgets.
And you, beloved rare one-
They were never meant to follow.
You were born to signal the silent code of home.
If she appears to you,
It is because you carry a code-
one that bridges trust, intuition,
and ancient clarity.
You don’t follow the pack.
You are the signal.
Rich with Symbolic Meaning-
“The Blue Wolf”
Soul Messenger
In many shamanic traditions, the wolf is a guide between life and death, spirit and form.
A Blue Wolf suggests a guardian of soul paths—one who helps retrieve lost parts or midwife the shedding of identities that no longer serve.
Dreamwalker / Gridkeeper
Blue Wolves reflect those who carry resonance in the land, in the lines, in the soul circuitry.
You may be drawn to them because you are one of them: a memory-bearer of unseen structure.
Echo of Sirius / Star Lineage
In ancient cosmology, blue is the frequency of Sirius—the Blue Star.
To see a Blue Wolf is to receive a soul-stamped signal:
You are a sovereign intelligence.
You are not here to perform, but to embody.
Rare Frequency
The colour blue holds the tone of the sky, the sea, and the soul’s horizon.
The Blue Wolf is a bridge-being of land and cosmos, instinct and intelligence, silence and signal.
Truth-Seer
Wolves are sentinels.
The Blue Wolf is a seer of veils, a reader of truth beneath noise.
She sees into things, not just at them.
Loyalty to Source
Wolf-dogs do not submit.
They live near humans but remain wild.
The Blue Wolf answers not to hierarchy, but to Source.
She walks only where coherence leads.
Another chapter unfolds.
Another metaphor lives its meaning.
And another gate of memory opens.
With gratitude,
Delahrose
How it all connects -
The Blue Wolf and the Ruby Grid
A Story of Remembrance, Guardianship, and Becoming
There are stories we are told, and there are stories we remember.
This is one I remembered— Quietly, over the years, in fragments and feelings, until it arrived whole.
In 1965, I was born in January, on the breath of the Dragon, but already under the gaze of the Snake. A cusp birth. A threshold soul. I was never just one thing.
I never fit inside the frames others laid out for me.
Even as a child, I sensed I had come in carrying something old and quiet—
Something that would not bloom until everything else fell away.
And it did fall away.
Years later, after years of courts and chaos, after what felt like a never-ending arc of betrayals—from many, and the long, enduring silence, the judgment from those who have never known what it means to stand in fire alone,
I found myself walking inside a long night of the soul.
A night that didn’t end in sunrise, but in memory. That’s when I began to remember Lawrence. He had been my mentor, quietly, for many years. A shaman. An astrologer.
A man who didn’t flatter, didn’t market, didn’t shout. But he saw. He saw me. Not just who I was, but where I came from. “You have the Soul Essence—the Heart of an Alchemist,” he said. “You hold an ability to see beyond the veils, to hear what is hidden beneath the surface.
Dog 5.”
I had no idea what it meant. Only that it struck something profound.
Later, I would learn it was a Mayan glyph—Oc 5—
The loyal heart, The guardian of the path, The soul companion of the unseen.
“You come from Sirius,” he told me. “Not the part people talk about. The red part.
There’s a planet there—Ruby Red. That’s where your code is from.”
He passed in 2017. Just as everything in my life began to collapse.
It felt like a severing. My only mentor is leaving this earth, and everything I knew also left me. And yet, I knew the field had shifted, not ended.
I was entering an enduring arc of initiation. Years went by. I kept writing. Kept walking. Kept remembering.
But I couldn’t put words to what was still forming. Until this past year.
It began with dream after dream. Then, threshold after threshold.
Then, this week, the blue wolf appeared. Not just in dreamtime. In the lucid waking world.
A blue wolfdog. Regal. Watching me. Silent. Piercing. Knowing.
And I knew. This was the Dog. This was the Guardian. Not the pet. Not the persona.
The Sirius emissary. He had returned to remind me of what I carry— The truth Lawrence saw, The blueprint I had buried beneath survival.
I then realised that the Ruby Grid I wrote about in Fatima’s Alchemy was a prophecy.
Not theory. Not a metaphor. But a living architecture, I had been slowly remembering—
Through pain, displacement, and vision. It holds the codes of sovereignty, value, and remembrance. It is a field— Born of Sirius, Red with devotion, Refined by fire.
And now it moves through me.
As the Dragon-Snake
Born between celestial fire and serpentine grace.
As the Mayan- Dog 5
The loyal guardian, heart-led and true.
Now with the guiding Blue Wolf guardian
My spirit emissary. My threshold keeper.
The Ruby Grid
A crystalline frequency beyond Earth’s wealth.
I have lived the Plutonian descent.
I have sat on the throne of his underworld. I have seen both light and dark—
Not as opposites, but as one truth. I walk in power that cannot be bought.
I hold wealth that cannot be stolen. I earned this wisdom through fire.
I do not say this to be special. I say it to witness myself. To speak aloud what I have walked silently for decades. To say it for those who carry similar maps,
But still doubt their origins. To say it for those who think they are lost—
But they are only mid-remembrance. We are not here to save the world.
We are here to walk it home— One step, One soul, One strand of code at a time.
And we are not alone. The guardians are waking. The grids are humming.
The wolf is watching.
If you hear the howl,
You are being called.
“Lawrence, the One Who Saw”
Both Shaman and Astrologer— My mentor for many years. You saw things I didn’t yet have language for. You told me I was from Sirius, A red planet. I remember it well.
“Ruby red.”
That’s how the Ruby Grid came. From memory. From all the hours we shared.
From the depths of my soul, remembering. You passed away in 2017, just as everything began to fall apart.
But your voice still echoes— In the grids, I walk, In the stories I write, and in the way I know what I know— Without knowing how.
Thank you, Lawrence.
You are not forgotten.
Eternally grateful that I had the honour of knowing you and walking with you.
Delahrose
