concerning nature and how we experience it
From the fire without end
The white limestone rocks travel
Over Grandmother Unci’s path
Into Our Mother’s womb.
Dark, warm, damp,
With the smell of cedar,
Sage crunching underfoot.
In the centre within
Glowing stones pile up high.
Tunka stirs in his sleep
When cool water pours
Onto his shoulders, and, hissing,
Grandfather’s fiery white breath
Kisses our skin.
© jsmorgane (Jan 10)
Taste the stone
You are holding
In your hand.
It smells of rains,
Like the waterfall
Gushing down your throat.
It smells of winter wind,
When you throw it
High into the crystal sky.
It smells of blood
Which its sharp edges
Cut into your tender skin.
It tastes of salt
Like the balms
Cradling it.
© jsmorgane (Jan10)
Through woodland and forest
I run, I run,
The city dimming behind me.
Friends grow away
As I run and run,
My many skins shedding.
My scars erased
I run and run,
Myself falling from me.
In shadows, in lightning,
Now running, now slowing,
A batter against closed eyelids.
… pause… breathe…
Earthen colours
Sink through skin…
The birds have stopped their tales.
The wind has caught his breath.
Soaked in silence, waning…
When from the void
A voice invokes
My name.
© jsmorgane (Nov 09)
