a soul walks in gardens,
stroking and hugging horses before goodbyes to earth.
surrendering, sinking into time,
fading, unsettled, struggling with departure.
sweet and sour bi-polar roller coaster
welcome back to one and goodbye to another.
***
when truths from "medicine",
from body and soul herbalists of
earthwalkers,
these People of the Horse
from before the Comet Strikes
and the great waters
whose young warriors
drafted to earthly empires
away from the purposes of Grandmothers
now hovering in time
between the dreams of grandmothers
and the seven generations
when our hopes and dreams
centred in the soul of woman
gathered some glimpse of three dimensional earthtime reality.
More food for thought than measured in sugar and flour..
***
this
half moon rising,
somewhere someone's sun is setting.
tomorrow's planned,
time written in the four stones
Time, Fire, Air and Life
the fifth stone,
fire of uncertainty,
"firestone" brings surprise.
flexibility is strength.
draw on the water of life.
***
Dream Stones
August Moment
***
When
summer’s heat retreats
to a relief of rain
some long hoped for rains
a well placed soul
withdraws to consider
within these aged walls
the reaching gardens overrun,
in a waterfall of windswept rain.
seeking some moments conviction
as unfolding garden dreams
are quenched with rain.
A dream perhaps of eagles lair
and mountain crag,
a Spirit standing in some tallest pine,
of storms that rumble there
on horizons brow.
And how this wind hints to wary eyes
when quiet shrug of spreading wings
to float but momentarily
and lifted up
above these rolling storming clouds
awaiting calms return
to garden’s dream.
While floating there,
considering,
some place of memories
of visions hue
and dancing with like Spirits there
in air above the rumbling storms below
while fluted dreams or softer dreams
before and after passages such as these.
In this time and wearied world
some land awaits the quenching rain
and awaited rain beneath the storm
seeks perhaps a fire’s blessing,
a higher blessing that only eagles see.
Some Spirits perennially,
return to a garden’s dream
and through the storm washed gardens walk
perhaps on those stones there,
a path where vines and waterfalls
hold fast to visions
and speak of Earthly garden
visits in gentler times
and seen again
while floating there above the storms.
******
May your canoe find quiet waters.
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