Do what humans do

Find shelter, find food, teach and care for the children.

Plan for the winter, work in the spring, harvest in the summer, keep working while you sing.

Sing the stories so all remember how to make their way, through the seasons and the nights, through the heat of the warmer days.

Remember where you came from, remember where you have been, remember where your going when the waters rise again.

Make your fire and tend it in the circle that you keep.

Sleep in the bed your hands have made and wake from the mercy of sleep.

Carry your peoples history balanced on your hip, a new face and a new life trip begins,

and so they too will learn to do what humans do.

Progress

If I look out from this mountain top I can see history twist and wind along the skin of the earth, old roads leading to new ideas.

I see mothers backs carrying children, I see horses carry riders, covered wagons, smoking trains, noisy model T's, quiet street cars, humming buses and the winding sing of a motorcycle zipping along pavement at 110.

Here simple people with humbly simple lives collected along the river banks walking with mindful gratitude for the harvest offered by the Mother. Simple abundance was the mantra that served them.

I see busied people who live under the sky but never notice the clouds, they rush about like the builder ants after a rain and I wonder if they have lost the ability to smell spring arriving.

We are a new species grown from the the sacrifices of our ancestors, we with our new abilities never needed before, bred for speed and intelligence ,doing unintelligent things, dependant on the whole, freedom sacrificed for convenience and ever competing to have it all.

We starve at the breast of our Mother because we no longer recognise her face, no comfort can be found at her touch, we are hard and we are lost in the illusion of technologies abundance.

Camping

I drove to the place where the woods still had magic. It was far from the city and far from the traffic of everyday life and everyday places, everyday problems and everyday faces.
I planted a tent where the trees gave way, a beautiful spot where we could lay.
My dog sniffed her best sniffing with great delight and followed a scent with all of her might, she whispered to the squirrel who lived in the tree, come down, please come down, come down and meet me.
My daughter danced her best dance on the stump of a pine tree and the birds watched from a distance these two and me.
A stream tricked by nearly hidden by the trees and fish swam about with no knowledge of me.
I made a little fire circled with stones and we sat in its warmth and told the stories we'd known. The crickets kept watch for the creatures that prowl, silence giving them away into the early wee hours.
When the stories were told and bellies were full we slept under the stars in the arms of the woods.

Friends and Foes

Put not your faith in mans holy endeavors for they are not carried by a power greater than greed.

You are wiser to trust simple rain to bring ones soul relief, as religion serves the powerful far before the powerless, and rain falls indiscriminately to whomever shall hold a bucket.

Wait not simple souls upon the mercy of your brothers, their lands are far and their hearts farther, from the plights of those without.

The Praise of Rain

Rain, you know not the place you hold in the heart of a desert soul.
You are the promise of retreat and renewal, of life and rest.
You are the long awaited savior to desolation's home.
You are the bringer of new beginnings and the force of change.
Come and stay, for none other is more loved.
Come and stay, for none others name is so cherished.
Come and stay Goddess of Rain and bless us with your charity.

It Is What It Is

Long way down, longer way up, so you sit at the edge of your world and wait.
It is hard to be good when your hurting inside, hard to let go of the old ways.
Choices become your history and wear well or heavily on your heart.
We are all alone and we are all lost, some find comfort in it, others distress.
Some become map makers others take the dive, some become climbers , others never try.
But all in the end remember the trip, some with a smile and others with regret.

Somedays life is a quick walk down a short road, other days you count the cracks.