Blog Archives

lost and found and lessons that endure

9/27/2012

The Lakota peoples call sunkmanitu, the wolf, a teacher. Sophie's ancestors must have been strong with her, teaching her moment by moment all that she needed to know to survive for a week alone in the wilds. And Sophie in turn taught me priceless lessons for which I am so grateful.

sanctuary

some people call it
the hour of the wolf ~
three to four a.m. ~
when I enter
my hallowed upper room
secret but not cloistered
my left hand knowing not
what my right hand
does

my rooftop opens
to diamond studded
blackness
smoke from sage
and light from a single
tall white candle
rise
as one breath

sunkmanitu
whom my people
call the teacher
enters silently
knowing I am ready
to begin

-pb 2010-

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RESCUE, the story of a young mystic

9/13/2012

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youth in flight

while these aging birds
sit fat and full in familiar branches
accustomed to circadian rhythms
the urging of hunger
and the stealthy creep of stalking cats

you soar across the fragrant meadow
dipping down to the singing river
touching lightly
then rising up across lavender mountains
to the lure of yet to be

in a day, a week, or
usually by nightfall
you return sleepy, sated
bearing luminous silks and savory spices
adventures aglow
with possibility

- pb © february 2012 -

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Stewardship

9/6/2012

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to the All

were i to lose my self in
the jungles of my confusion
pull me from the tangled paths
grown thick with poisonous weeds
draw me to the living
blood streams of my ancestors
flowing across this bounteous land
restore to me the heat of my
Father Sun who
unceasingly caresses
the throbbing body of my
Mother Earth

grant me the loneliness of my
Sister Moon who cries endlessly
for her little sisters and brothers
out of reach within sight
wrap around me the stirring touch of my
Brother Wind who lifts all eyes
to the Sacred Center
that flowers throughout eternal eons

in my sacred space let me become shelter
and warmth for all the children
then at last, send the weightlessness of
my crumbled bones drifting
from the heights of granite spires
across the great plains to
the face of the deep waters

nourish all creatures with the weight
of my tears and the solemnity of my prayers
use every cell and atom of my being
in devotion and service
that i may return to the Fullness
from whence i came

- pb © september 2012 -

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