Shamanism

Listening To Rain

We got a gully-washer last night, a real midwestern frog-strangler. (‘Scuse my southern Iowa roots showing, I need to go see an heir dresser …) (Sorry about that.) (Won’t happen again.) (Yes, it totally will.) As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, we got some serious water-works happening in the wee hours,

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Totality

Silvering light surrounds usas we wait for the momentEach subtle movement softly encroachingLike tentative loversreaching for each otherSun and moon one fleshfor this short whileSuddenly there’s OtherWorldly twilightSuddenly night drops like a stoneThere’s a ring in the sky, signaling silenceBringing the heart-light homeThe towering trees quakingalmost lit from withinas the fading sun beginsto soften for

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Old Sun

You’re getting weak, Old Sun. Not so long ago your slightest touch would set my skin aflame But now … You’re getting weak, Old Sun. And Winter, he’s coming for you, and I don’t know if you have the stones to see him off anymore. I think maybe you threw your weight around a little

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