Tension rising in the battle for survival
giant primeval trees the bones of old growth
rooted deep throughout the rings of time
the full moon, illuminating the forest below
in a dream, a mystic fog drifted into the night
standing before the ancient watchers in silence
one can hear the whispers of the standing trees
their heartbeat drums, a song of grave urgency
a shaman of great insight, suddenly appears
long dark flowing hair, embedded streaks of gray
holding a walking stick, a marker of his journey
we meet in another realm of time and space
speaking in his native tongue of which needed
no translation, words flowing, a river of knowledge
in the distance a wolf howls, under the flower moon
creatures of the night hover near, orbs of light
between the thick limbs and covering of leaves
from the ancient watchers he offers precious seeds
"plant these in a place of honor"
pointing his walking stick at the moon, he spoke in
parables
"There are nights when the soul howls for light and there
are days when the soul howls for a dream"
What does the night offer you? Are you part of the tree
or part of the moon?
Take these seeds, let new life grow to replenish what has
been taken....howl with your voice at the injustice of our
plight....
cut no more of the ancient growth as they are a
refuge for all creatures of the forest
Our heartbeat is a signal of life....
the song of the ancient watchers the connectors of earth
and heaven....keepers of wisdom, balance and spirituality
author's note: This was derived from a dream. I tried to
keep it in it's rawest form - true to it's message.
My Friend, we are keepers of the sacred seeds
linking with earthweal