a poem from a dream ... two years ago
one night time while the strong winds came to whistle and to sing
I dreamed of an old woman weaving with sparkling star lit string
weaving the wisdom of the ancestors and their sacred ancient ways
she told me a story of life and death, and the world in the in between days
she spoke of legend and lore, dreams awakened and dreams true
she taught me lessons with value to me, to know what I should do
the old stories were wild and vivid, as she sat low beside a fire
she wanted me to stay free from the aches of my human desire
that night as she was weaving I saw this and it was true
as she sat and spoke so softly, from her lap an animal grew
from the cloth that she was holding, in her hands I started to see
a lynx and a coyote - a strange mix, that she was weaving just for me
as I sat in full attention, without a twitch, not missing a sound
the old woman, she clearly saw me and by her eyes I was completely bound
she looked clear and straight into me as she gave comfort to this animal mix
in this medicine weave she made certain that I noticed what I needed to fix
the lynx she said will give you the secrets of the magical medicine ways
the lynx she said will teach you who to trust in your night and your days
the lynx will hold your tongue for you, so you will be silent and not make a sound
the lynx is crawling in you, yours tracks are different when your feet hit the ground
the coyote is the trickster, the one who runs and plays the odd game
the one that sings the songs at night that connect lonely ones to their shame
the coyote is your worker now, the coyote energy is not that of you
the coyote keeps you safe in knowing, to keep the eye on what other coyotes may do
the old woman then stood before me and she approached me with a walk of grace
she placed the animal medicine on me, wrapped me tightly and then cradled my face
she said this dream, this medicine is yours now you are the weaver of the ancient way
get up, you were awake with me all along as this night has turned into this day
Thursday, December 16, 2010
Friday, December 3, 2010
don't resist your passion

Much like a rainstorm rolls onto the vast landscape of a desert,
there is a passion that rolls into the vast lovescape of your soul.
As a rainstorm brings sweet moisture to the land, to the earth,
the passion that rolls into you brings to you a greater life essence for you to fill up with.
The desert does not resist the rainstorm.
Make sure that you don’t resist your passion.
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