When one wish remains to not die here alone i reach for your hand before night calls me home
Until that someday when this life bids adieu i watch for the faint winding path back to you ~
Authors note: This poem was inspired by a story i heard about a family in Gaza. The children of this family were so traumatized by the violence that their primary concern was to stay together so that if the parents were killed, they would all die together. It is tragic that the US arms Israel, and that Israel uses those arms to kill thousands of innocents.
Early in the morning there’s a whippoorwill calling the wind “hurry up daybreak, wake up the robin and wren”
Step into the morning light, a redtail hawk is singing in flight, sky is shining blue and bright, the music of Gaia is ringing
In the afternoon, there’s a daytime moon cicadas and crickets are buzzing Seven year locusts and bullfrogs croaking hummingbirds are humming
Evening sets in, soft as the skin on the wing of a dragonfly Heron flies home, high and alone frogs in the pond sing bye bye
Singing songs the morning making tunes at night humming our way all through the day make everything alright, alright
Moving around in a world of sound putting out vibrations harmonize and visualize peace among all our relations
Make a new sound, let it abound with the energy of creation music and play can show us the way go without hesitation
Singing songs the morning making tunes at night humming our way all through the day make everything alright, alright ~
“Once upon a time, when women were birds, there was the simple understanding that to sing at dawn, and to sing at dusk, was to heal the world through joy. The birds still remember what we have forgotten, that the world is meant to be celebrated.” ~ Terry Tempest Williams
A simple candle on a clear dark night Can light the way home A bright beacon while encased in fog Can mislead the mightiest of ships Slow down Always be a candle Let the fog rise up And seek the sun.
“Nature loves courage. You make the commitment and nature will respond to that commitment by removing impossible obstacles. Dream the impossible dream and the world will not grind you under, it will lift you up. This is the trick. This is what all these teachers and philosophers who really counted, who really touched the alchemical gold, this is what they understood. This is the shamanic dance in the waterfall. This is how magic is done. By hurling yourself into the abyss and discovering its a feather bed.”
Round the mountain on the mossy side, Where the trees lean n’ the lands a slide Underneath the oak and paw paw tree, There’s a 4 prong root just waitin for me
My names ginseng I’m a little shy, don’t often see the clear blue sky Favor growin out in the old growth wood little bit of ginseng does a man good
Ginseng grows on the mountainside, Ginseng knows just where to hide Aint nothing fancy and it don’t grow tall, Hunt for your ‘sang in the golden fall..
Yellow root medicine grows nearby, cohosh knows where the ginseng lies glows like gold in the afternoon, dig it in the fall ‘neath a wanin’ moon
Scatter those seeds all around, put a piece of root back in the ground come back in another year or 3, ginseng grows a family
Down in the holler by the kissin tree Ginseng far as the eye can see Underneath the bluff where shadows fall i can hear my lover call
Lay her down in a bed of leaves Trillium trills and the bloodroot bleeds Hardwood singin in the mountain breeze Diggin that ginseng on my knees
Ginseng grows on the mountainside, Ginseng knows just where to hide Aint nothing fancy and it don’t grow tall, Hunt for your ‘sang in the golden fall..
First quarter moon she’s a sliver of light, a sickle of stardust, a scythe in the night a crescent so fertile she sings to the Earth let your seeds all awaken your dreams give birth
For the moon changes while we’re all sleepin’ so quietly nobody knows in the dark of the night when you can’t see her light she’s turning through all our shadows
Around second quarter, seeds rise from the ground bees in the blossoms where the honey is bound there’s a hen sittin’ pretty a rooster just crowed daffodils poppin’ from the bulbs that we sowed
For the moon changes while we’re all sleepin’ so quietly nobody knows in the dark of the night when you can’t see her light she’s turning through all our shadows
She’s coming on full as the coyotes call she rises up over the mountain deep in the night her quicksilver light pours oe’r the land like a fountain
Fruit on the vine and a bottle of wine a song for the earth and her kin then somewhere near dawn with a sigh and a yawn we lay as the night sky spins.
Third and fourth quarter fall quiet in line she’s rising now well after midnight Roots reachin’ down where the water is found swellin’ the melons til they’re just right
After 28 days the cycle is full the moon spirals back to begin the darkness gives way to the light of the day the nighttime recalls her old friend ~
So you find yourself awaking in the current of your life rising from the darkness making for the light a river courses through your blood the water holds you tight let her ripples swaddle you and rock you through the night
Find your feet and go one more time for these seeds you’ll sow in a broken line dreams you carry pray grow pass your love pass your way down the line down the line
River stones painted bones minnows float and swim crystal drops of sparkling water soak into your skin sun and shadows mix with the cold springs that flow then you lay on the rocks let them warm you from below
Find your feet and go one more time for these seeds you’ll sow in a broken line dreams you carry pray grow pass your love pass your way down the line down the line
Take the drum you painted as a child I did not know play the song you started so many years ago feel the rhythm of the saints as they go marching in with the wisdom of the water and the howling of the wind
Find your feet and go one more time for these seeds you’ll sow in a broken line dreams you carry pray will grow pass your love pass your way down the line down the line ~
No one saw the nut that fell and lodged in the Earth nor the sprout that would foretell the story of rebirth but that hick’ry whip it grew into a mighty tree over many generations, reached the canopy
Drank the sun and rain; let the wind sing through her leaves held tons of CO2 in her graceful wooden body cast her shade upon the ground a shelter from the storm many nests she held in her strong branchin’ arms
She was the oldest hickory in Newton County a home up in the sky for one and all a bounty of mast when summer was past a golden torch in the fall
Timber! Timber!
No one knows how old she was when she hit the ground first a crack like thunder then she’s coming down The bird songs were silent an eerie quiet fell the landscape where a forest stood now looked alot like hell
Timber! Timber!
And the oldest hickory in Newton County lay there still and dead on the ground Traded for some dollar bills and a bumpy ride to an old sawmill that old hickory just got cut down
Timber! Timber!
No one knows exactly where that hickory lumber went boards and pallets, floors and mallets, baseball bats and chips Still i don’t see anything we make compares at all to the glory of that hickory turned golden in the fall
And the oldest hickory in Newton County How many hundred years she held her ground til a man came along with a sigh and a saw and cut that hickory down..
One of these days, i’m gonna be an old oak tree gonna stand in one place let the wind whistle through my leaves Send my roots down deep draw the water up through my knees Make some shade and a home for the birds and bees
One of these days I’m gonna be a drop of falling rain Floatin in the clouds rolling thunder over the plains Headed for the mountains where her majesty touches the sky Shine like a diamond fall like a tear from your eye
One of these days I’m gonna be an ancient rock of age Buried in the ground sittin still like a wise old sage Gonna carry real weight be as solid as a thing can be Waitin for the rain underneath an old oak tree
One of these days I’m gonna be everything that I am With the grace of heaven gonna to rise to my feet like a man Love my brothers and my sisters just as much as I can One of these days I’m gonna be everything that I am
One of these days I’m gonna be an old oak tree ~
(Original song lyrics i wrote around the time of my Fathers passing)
Each to ones own blessed sincere stigmata scars from the years we swing like a piñata blood on the tracks always telling me not to get caught on the bridge when that midnight train rolls through
There goes ole Casey Jones driving his Choo Choo I’m on my horn blowing whoo Peggy Sue Sue She’s busy making that jelly roll sing sing with me on cloud nine but I can’t keep from crying ~
In between waking dreams comes reality there’s a place horses grace the landscape that i see like a living bridge they cross the world of fantasy underneath a starry sky, horses carry me.
All the pretty horse running with the wind over plains and mountain ranges flying again All the pretty horses following the sun over the horizon they gallop one by one.
Over there, golden mare, rainbows end tell me stories, never tell the end sweet companion sing a song so true dreaming horses I’m riding next to you
All the pretty horse running with the wind silk manes, feather flames rise and fall again All the pretty horses following the sun over the horizon they gallop one by one.
Oh to live among the horses, fair as horses come make a home above a meadow where the horses run all the pretty horses, real as dreams can be even as i wake i wonder, will they carry me?
When the sunshine greets the morning light falls on dew covered fields leaves of brown blanket the ground ‘neath trees like memories still
hollows hide behind wooded curtains boulders stand guard at the edge roots hug the earth, and deep springs emerge as the sun walks over the ridge
Time passes slow here the rocks have their stories years upon light years away carved in beauty with generous glory in the glens and fair meadows of Murray
Travelers lost have found homes here claimed by the land to Staymore as in a dream each wanderer seems to have no recollection before
finding a way to this valley coming from some other world now we live here with the owl and the deer and the river calls out to Staymore
Time passes slow here the rocks have their stories years upon light years away carved in beauty with generous glory in the glens and fair meadows of Murray ~
Mid winter moon was so brilliant last night Sailing her way ‘cross the clear n’ cold night Casting her glow over mountains and fields Calling me out with her silent appeal Rise up and wander! Sing to me now! The morning will come and you may forget how! I’ve entered your darkness and cast wide the door Let your heart open your wild spirit will soar.
* I’m unsure the exact origin of this story beyond its placement in Genesis, but appreciate the story for its poetic inspiration and thought provoking imagery.
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