You walk in a new found forest, as if in an unreal dream.
Never realizing until now, the mosses of emerald green.
With wonderous eyes of a young girl still, you search the silence that begins to unfurl.
You take these wonders inside your heart, knowing this is but the start.
A Spirit is settling over you, as soft as silken velour,
And you feel His presence very near, unlike the times before.
You listen to the melodious tunes, of the birds and natures song.
And shed a tear..for now you know.., You've been away too long.
Oh..to capture all this wonder, and place it in a jar.
To hold against your breast at night, and never be too far.
Impossible..or so some think to do, to take a piece of life.
That walks with you in every quiet, and protects you from all strife.
But the peacefulness of the shadows, and the clouds above that fly.
On winds of happiness in your heart, a Love's the reason why.
And when you need that comfort now,
To never deal with pain.
Hold this forest as your Lover,
And return here once again!
What is this feeling, as I sit out late at night?
Beckons me ..to turn and face the South, A Presence not within my sight.
It is the sound of Canadas, that land upon a shimmering lake.
No truer is the union there. On cupped wings they will take,
A spot on the Horizon.. a moment in Rhyme, their life together ..for all time.
For once they Mate..they will always be.
An example for all us Humans to see.
For he will follow her in death, and likewise her in his,
No truer Love is ever witnessed.
So true this Love that is.
by Jerre Divelbiss
With Father Sky above and Mother Earth below,
Her life and wisdom rides the breeze
as her mercy and strength evaporates
the native man has always known the ways
but white man’s creation reigns; devastation, disease
from invention of the wheel; they’ve industrialized her fate
War and meaningless death - what extinction it creates
Her rivers of life are running dry
as she watches her white children lead her to die
she feels the gentle wind of her own failing breath
and from her eye a final tear does glisten
it saddens her to know they orbit their own death
if only the white man would listen
Hear Mother Earth’s voice
She’s always known the way.
Thoughtful now of who I am, I write just what I see.
I looked into the wintered sky, Orion..the rest were there.
Then slowly clouds began to form, transfixed me in my stare.
I did not know their origin, backlit for me to see.
No reason for the luminous light, made plain for only me.
But what I saw was there I know,
Disbelieve this if you can.
For quietly stood Wolf And Eagle there, and many from their Clan.
I thought long and hard of writing this, to tell here what I say.
But I have no Judge..except for One,
I'll meet Him soon Someday.
Of the howling from darkened timber, the wolves closing on the kill.
What use is there continuing, hamstrung and bleeding so,
Why not give up and let it be?, the crimson stain on snow.
It seems so easy, just to lie down, no more to struggle free.
So simple the solution,? So simple just to me?
The songs of howling would soon subside, the pain would too I know?
The rains of spring would quickly wash, all traces from the snow.
There wouldn't be a memory of how gallant was the flight.
No one remembers the names of those, or feelings, wrong or right?
But all too soon the path will lead, to a ridge line on a hill.
And all too soon the wolves will howl, while racing to the kill.
But one thing certain, that will never change, is the feeling that was mine.
And wolves can't betray the memories,
Preserved for me in time.
For he is powered by more than wings, the wind whispers to him still,
Stay free and wild of spirit and soul,
And infinite of will.
You seldom see him work to stay, at his vantage point aloft.
And though you strain, you cannot feel,
The touch of feathers soft.
On endless flight he seems to be, gazing to the west.
A weathered branch in talons strong, to reinforce the nest.
No tear to glaze the eye of he, no worry to betray.
The misted valleys far below, hold songs he hears today.
Oh, to be the eagle there,
Oh, to feel the rush.
Oh, to have his top-most spot,
To witness sunset's blush.
And Oh, to have the serenity, to rise above it all.
Knowing in His Peace I have,
The wind won't let me fall.
The trillium, wild iris, columbines, and camas blue, will fill the air with fragrances,
Lay a carpet just for you.
Young alder that's started budding, Queen Ann's lace will push for room,
And service-berry will fill the space, in the midst of a whitening bloom.
Look quickly now for the ruffed grouse hen,
As she scatters her brood of nine.
Listen to the chatter of a red squirrel's call, lays claim to his lofty pine.
A black-tail doe may wander by, with twin fawns at her side.
Don't move a muscle, she'll signal them,- to hunker down and hide.
Not so lifeless this distant meadow,
As it seems from a distant hill.
Come back often
It's good for you.
I know I surely will.
Water that transfixed that shaft of light, now races full-force in headlong flight.
Cascading in deafening impacts that free,
The swirling mist that envelopes me.
You'll feel the freshness that fills the air, as puffs of breezes toss your hair.
With tenacious strength, time tested strife,
Maiden-hair ferns still cling to life.
And mosses share a backdrop green,
To miniature rainbows through the screen.
But still it falls across the face, of time worn boulders that seem to grace,
This cathedral place, it stirs my heart,
Where waterfalls are, but never start.
Just knowing this magic, understanding the whys, is all it takes
To fill my eyes.
Belief that this feeling will always be,
Is it enough for you?---It is for me.
And if you think that what you feel, is only here today,
Let the river be your guidance, permit me this to say,
That the oneness that you see before you, is really what you seek.
And your heart will swell into your throat,
Not allowing you to speak.
Still even though long the distance be, separated and afar,
The river will always call you back,
Reflecting some bright star.
New lights will dance across it's face, with breezes set the waves to race,
With leaves set free with winters breath,
That could not cheat impending death.
The raindrops, rivulets, and yes too- mountain streams,
Are real to me and not a part of far illusion dreams.
For the top is now the bottom, and the bottom is soon the top,
Yet the oneness of the rivers mixture, will surely never stop.
Let the river guide you daily, and the oneness that you yearn,
Will be at the calm of the river,
At every rippled turn.
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