I Was a Shaman Once
As the desert sun beats down
turning to ash, everything in sight,
the desert wind sings
mournful wailing songs
for millenniums past.
I stand upon the parched ground,
boot heels digging into the cracks,
beneath the shade of
a broken down and now abandoned
shell of a shack’s roof.
although the weight of death
seems to fill the air,
the ancient energy of human presence
dances around me,
stronger than I’ve
ever felt,
leaving me light headed
and swaying in the moment.
I lay down upon a rickety bench,
I begin to hear my name
amongst the wind’s wailing songs,
calling me to come home,
come home,
suddenly I awake
feeling cleansed, rebirthed, renewed,
and ready to make my way again,
on my own ancient desert trail.
still hearing the voices,
as I walk on past time.
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