Guardians of the Earth

 

Winter cold settles on the valley
with smoke curling
from the rooftops
into steel gray skies.
The trees stand alone
surrounded by cement,
crows inhabit the wires
that fill the airwaves
with messages of isolation
while guardians of the Earth
surround the sacred planet.
The presence of the ancient ones
penetrates the dark night,
lighting the altars
in stone lined chambers
on solstice dawn,
their radiance broadcast
from deep heaven
to the caverns of memory,
reminding us of the births
occurring now and now,
always now
in choruses of joy
sung by the eternals.

 

 

 

Christmas 2021

 

 

 

Reading of “Guardians of the Earth” with music by Vince Guaraldi

 

 

 

 

With the icy fog
and sun far to the south,
dawn barely shines
on the cold valley.
Trees are silent
in the sopping earth,
drinking in vigor
for the rising of spring.
Shrouded in dense clouds
and dim light of December
my mind wanders over rooftops
to the pale horizon.
In the snow covered mountains
elders call from firelight.
I answer their call
with rattle and drum,
wearing bones of the salmon
and rich eagle feathers,
hungry as a raven
for the deep dreams of winter.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading of “Deep Dreams of Winter” with music by Chanticleer

Softly comes the morning
with the green grass of autumn
and the silence of trees.
Rooted in stony ground,
still as the water between tides,
we are brethren to the land,
kin to the distant stars.
Fed by light
and nourished in darkness,
we guard the arc
between earth and spirit,
the ancient bond
that holds this life
unbroken and eternal.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading of “Ancient Bond” with music by Eleanor Shanley

I listen to the earth,
to the sound of the animal
that paws from within,
scratching at the door
for release into light.
How long it’s taken,
the miles of dream track
while the scent of morning
invited him out
for the pleasure of dirt.
I drop the skin face
and let the wolf loose,
his soft fur bristling
to roam and run free
in the winter wet forest
of sunlit desire.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Reading of “Drop the Skin Face” with music by Robbie Robertson and Little Wolf