Wolf Prophet

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Timber wolf hails with primordial timbre

From the Akashic record of feelings

The leather bound book of howls

Raises its spine

Leafs flapping

As if a wind were present

Involved in the maturation

Of a full Canis lupus

Moment

Passing through existence

 

Twelve harmonically related overtones

Spread through stiff clear whiskers

Coarse shadows shrinking from the mummified wolf pup

Still dreaming in the cauldron of the raven’s cave

Thoughts entangled with the moons mood

 

And the book spoke through the light of its eyes

“You have been arranged to be just so

To be the next wolf prophet

Returned from the land of outcasts

To make the human understand

His animal human link”

 

“You have burned off your wolf’s bane in rusted barrels

All that was past useful to your essence

To that which now can be finally recognized

At the end of a life time

Full mature moments of the inner tradition

That leave the world behind”

 

It is for you to sink deeper into the disassembled road

Downward into the root animal

Mammalian vertebrae creature with instinctual

Digging into the past of root cellar wisdom

Canis cinders of memory to fertilize the present

The blank white page howls into its emptiness

Find your wolf song again

 

Across the barren

No thoughts but your own

Through the steady sounds

Of unconscious dross cleansed by the rain

 

Illuminated sable beast

Of the empty earth house

Your echo is in our cells

In our veins and the giant ferns

Of our thoughts passing through cloud

 

May the rites of our lycanthropy

Heal the fracture of our lost world

Searching for its image and form

 

Take me with you wolf

Into your borderlands of duality

Spells of your prophetic book still breathe in me

Through the dark loam of my animal voice

Through waves of time repeating itself

In the changeling wrinkle of my skin

Quickening beyond this broken down den

Musk and brine smell of death

Dust rising with all life movement

Taking on the shape of things to come

 

Place of the undone

Tight bundled foliage unwinds to the sun

With sonic runes of transfiguration

Arh wooo to know like you do wolf when it is time

To take in the flowers rapture and red bursting berry

When to avoid the farm, ranches and cities

Sprawling suburbs that displace natural vowels

Sacred space of  our frictionless resonant cavity

Free us to rise like the Sidhe from their mounds at dusk

Like earth prayer communion to secrets of the universe

 

Take me wolf as fellow human animal

Half buried in the earth with my soul fire

Gestating in the womb of constellation Lupus

Birth another dreamer of terra firma

With my ribcage sieve gathering the true nature

Of all that was denied or forgotten

Instinctual places moving within torso

 

So sayth the wolf mirror looking inward

Sonorant book of the non preaching body

Sprouting  new song leaves through the muzzle

Into the knowing gait of soft footed perception

Create and be and disintegrate

Into divine beauty with yearning

To see behind the wind and the green

And what makes the oracle speak

This creation song

 

“Wolf dust storm rises from the moon Arh Woo

Travels its course through the milky way too

Reflect star and sunlight on your way Renew

Enter the marrow of the earth wolf Anew

Quicken the bone white of our eyes Pursue

See through the dark the pack rise Soon

Red Wolf Gray Wolf Timber Wolf Arh Woo

Howl our ancestral songs back to the moon

White Wolf spirit of our origins Woo

Keeping the sacred way alive Arh Woo”

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We the People of the Turtle

travelling with the ancestral spirits fishiesp1040284

Turtle sounded like an amphibious gurgle

Until we grasped its wise prescient rhythm

Penetrating us with its origin-migrating song

And the first and last word is turtle

Which is the world in all its form

 

Turtle swims through the stars

In  spirals of the rotating galaxies

Going inward to center and out to new worlds

 

Light reflecting in the eye of darkness

Color of shimmering Saturn rings

Shell a shield for comets and asteroids

Debris of broken consciousness

Littering the carapace

 

Turtle created the world

And the turtle is the word

And the word comes reverberating

from its shell of divination

Our domed mirror

As we build upon the mirror

Walk upon the mirror

Of the first word

 

In the beginning was turtle

And depending on how you look at the word

You might see the myriad moving things

Desert of tortoise deep under wave turtle

Brackish pond snapping turtle of beauty

Expanding water rings rock the water lilies

With patient wisdom and trust that we keep

Our sacred bond to the turtle beak mandible

That speak the celestial word turtle

Through our innermost lives

 

We who are in covenant

To its nails and snake head

its green dinosaur tale

Creation story bubbling up to the surface

With his breath release between the tin cans

Tires and plastic

 

Aboriginal pilgrim moving slowly through land and sea

Compelling reverence from those who can see turtle

Those who can hear the dance in the moving word

 

No one would dream of eating turtle

But now it is happening

 

Her moon eggs are getting dimmer

Predators claim her savagely

Farmers imprison her as delicacy

 

Turtle who teaches the soul I Ching and the Tao

Turtle who lights the winter campfire stories

To bring relief and instructive sacred knowledge

Mnemonic retelling of wise turtle who is smarter

Than restless empty satisfying of quick needs

Clever enough through the millions of years

To keep rising through our changing forms

 

Turtle of the deep and quiet word

Resonance in its moving meditation

Swims like flying feathers

Crawls with its belly close to our earth

To feel our blood pulse

 

Knows the direction of our wellbeing

Even when we ourselves get lost

In our own cunning

 

Turtle

Word turtles resurrected

Turtle words floating in the divine

That flow out of Egypt and Latin and Iroquois

That carry us into community of bigger lives

The turtle within and without

In the song poetry of this wandering life

We the people of the turtle

Seeking turtle life

 

Hooded Crow Incantation; harbinger of wonder and conjuration

white shaman

Hooded crow roosts on my collar bone

Exhales her turquoise fire of life’s blood

Terra’s white smoke spires with stained glass windows

Revealing the split body of the earth

A conjuring “To see inside yourself

Is to see the spinning colors of unseen horizons

A spindle weave across the faded land

looking to thread new life”

Speaks in myriad tongue gesticulates

With long black winged fingers

Swirling air with mantic dirge and affretando

“If you don’t know yourself in life death syncopation

You don’t know the world’s dissolution and animation”

For some I’m a riddle without a sage tarrying in the vaporous

For others I’m the magnitude of another dying age

 

My shoulder blade appendage cast my wing shadows ahead of me

To see my blue metallic existence turn green when looking down

With my aerial vantage to the images of your inner thoughts

“You have thrown your shadows behind you into the cliff face

Hid them in the dark crags where they are buffeted in the winds

of retreat and separation”

“They are broken mirror shards milled in the old human maps

that keep depleting.  Sunk deep into our skeletal underground

Our dead cosmologies compost”

 

This is the remaining moment of my voice

To see your shadow before you

In the poisoned tumult of your inner earth

Puppet theater of a corrupt governing body

 

This is the remaining juncture to take the initiatic descent

Into the ancient backbeat paradox

Of moving backwards to move forward

With indwelling death song lament

Coronach venom to cure the deep cracked tongue

Of the rotted pine box

Leaking its sap wound into your scattered clouds

Deluded consciousness in the thinning mask silhouette

 

Find in yourself a wise fool wanderer without clever answers

Dine in the food hall of earth’s sacred stories

I coo caw rattle and click for you to pick the ripeness beneath the skin

Before it turns in the raucous din

In the coyotes den with bitter herbs to administer

Desert holy clown with juniper eyes and tobacco breath

With half moon ritual of worn rag offerings

To the ragged past and mystery present

In this frozen snake egg of the underworld

Where you can warm and shed the skin cells

Of your underbelly where chaos reins

In the village of old sorrows

In the Bedouin tent flap flapping its dusty rhythm

To the gravity changing its magnetic direction

As the lunar midwife passes your smoke filled rain of insanity

Your comets and burnt out stars

Your hobbled and snared dead deer and seals

Set free with her holy moon

Patient touch sputtering

Through the umbilical the pine resin aflame

Tendrils quickening out of the coffin

With tricksters keeping you from moving too fast

Through the tree of life and its myriad branches

Growing your inner expanding rings

Your poetry fertilizer words for the prairie dogs

To turn the dust storm around

Your nautilus shell utterance

To call forth the altar of primordial memory

Hooded Crow words whispering the stanzas of beauty

Sending starfish drifting through the undulating kelp forest

The blue print of the yearning and sated heart

With its medicinal honey dripping into the extinction

Of outsiders outcasts and healers

Drips into the oceanic garden womb

Reseeding awakening into the terraqueous wisdom

Our indigenous voice and vision in this ice age

Already written inside us in minerals and frost stars

In the salmon script moving up river

In the deities calendar murmuring in your ear

The hooded crow perched outside your door