Begin to Tend
Begin by placing the kernel in your mouth with your Earth stained and cracked fingers.
Coat it fully with your saliva and breath. Offering blessings as you bend low to tuck in this Hopi Blue Corn to rest.
Whispering, “I bless your soul” as that same finger pushes the hopeful seed into it’s place in the soft soil below.
Hungry for more, to feed the WIld.
Ancient Cravings urge us, “sow more rows”.
Secret works of the tenders tending below.
Hybernating songlines longing for song.
Light reflects shimmers of mica, stardust, bone.
Illuminating the undergrowth and canopy
We sing to the mystery
As we tune our forks resonating with breath and howl.
Soul notes of remembering the ways before now.
Layering upon ice
Leaving leaves to preserve.
Fermenting the stories with tender reserve.
Care.
Fully.
Beneath the crust
Life continues to grow forth.
It must.
Back to foraging and forging medicinal roots
Stretching down and out toward the beyond of truth.
Where the unknown knowing of the soul speaks,
The silent spring Trickles truth beneath.
Those with spindles and masks anxiously awaiting
Our limbs to tire from holding old patterns fading.
Tightly
In mighty winds of wills against walls.
May they fall.
Built to keep out and left to keep in.
May your gestures ignite the flight
Gatekeepers of flint.
strike your steel to the wick dimly awaiting your flame.
Again and again.
Burn the shadow dancers’ feet and soles
to kick up the embers and scatter them whole.
We have been waiting for your catchment. Your wildfire glow
Spreading the secret through smoke signals from the wisdom below.
Soil saplings reach up for tenders to begin.
Courageously exposing their newly birthed skin.
Raw gestures bow down
trusting the shed.
New Life force becomes
back from the dead.
Just as the tides pull our wombs toward the moon,
breathe into this…
Swoon.
Today is born of you and you of it.
What brings forth and from can only then become.
“I bless your soul”
What brings forth and from can only then become.
Today is born of you and you of it.
Swoon.
breathe into this.
Just as the tides pull our wombs and seasons toward the moon,
Back from the dead.
New Life force becomes
Raw gestures bow down
trusting the shed.
Courageously exposing their newly birthed skin.
Soil Saplings reach up for their tenders to begin.
Spreading the secret through smoke signals from the wisdom below.
We have been waiting for your catchment. Your wildfire glow.
Burn the shadow dancers’ feet and soles
to kick up the embers and scatter them whole.
Built to keep out and left to keep in.
Gatekeepers of flint, strike your steel to the wick
Again and again.
Dimly awaiting your flame.
May your gesture ignite the flight
Held Tight
in Mighty winds of wills against walls.
May they Fall.
Those with spindles and masks anxiously awaiting
our limbs to tire from holding old patterns fading.
Where the unknown knowing of the soul speaks,
The silent spring trickles truth beneath.
Stretching down and out toward the beyond of truth.
Back to foraging and forging medicinal roots
Layering upon ice
leaving leaves to preserve
Fermenting Stories with tender reserve.
Life continues to grow forth
Beneath the crust.
Care.
Fully
As it must.
Soul notes of remembering the ways before now
as we tune our forks to resonate with breath and howl.
We sing to the mystery
Illuminating the undergrowth and canopy
Light reflects shimmers of Mica, stardust bone.
Hybernating songlines longing for song.
Secret works of the tenders tending below.
Ancient Cravings urge us,
“sow more rows”.
Hungry for more, to feed the Wild
Whispering, “I bless your soul” as that same finger pushes the hopeful seed into it’s place in the soft soil below.
Offering blessings as you bend low to tuck in this Hopi Blue Corn to rest.
Coat it fully with your saliva and breath.
Place the kernel in your mouth with your Earth stained and cracked fingers.
Begin.
Again
