Echo of distant cries,
quadruped steps deepening into dusk—
wind folding the earth’s breath.
Craftsman of the spider web,
seas of lightning possessing the sky.
Guardian of the other side,
conceiver of comings and goings,
I will meet you soon—
after the waning of many moons,
God-willing—I will meet you soon!
Til then
you will wait—
til the fateful rain washes the earth,
til the sky weeps every secret.
You will wait
as the mountain lion sleeplessly
soaks up the storms to
keep her last babe dry.
Many Moons
Many moons have affected my way of life
From conflicts to divine meetings
To when I choose to say goodbye
I’m always pulled in the direction of what seems most right
When listening to the many moons
And the thousand faces she assumes
Before ten thousand moons passed by
reigned Mother Earth and Sacred Sky.
Their spirits whispered on the breeze,
from mountain streams to deepest seas.
Nomadic souls rode ne’er to die
before ten thousand moons passed by
hunting bison, both proud and strong,
with lips chanting ancestral songs.
Each blessing rained from clouds of truth
of spirits taught in gleaming youth.
Before ten thousand moons passed by,
in native tongue, soared elder’s cry.
Across the plains, they chased a dream,
like wild horses in warm sun beams.
Their restless souls praised earth and sky
before ten thousand moons passed by.
written 2/12/17
rock radio tunes
white walled treads and baby moons…
laughing like buffoons