I need to smell the smoke of raging fires and sleeping embers.
I need to hear the bark of sad hard dog skins before the thunder wind that rise for all that have life and live.
I need to touch the bleeding earth at my feet symbolic of what needs to change.
I need to bark and bray and gurgle like the babies of all creatures do.
I need to wave highflier Eagle feathers that see it all and shake their heads at our lack of mindfulness. normal"">
I need to hear wind chimes and bells and the clank of wood on wood as wind and breeze stirs and blows.
I need vision and fullness and to feel the tears running down my cheeks from failure, mine, yours, ours, us, we.
I need to look upon the child at mother’s breast and know that one will be at One somewhere, someday or all is lost.
I need to see the owl fly that lets the sun beg for dawn and to see the crab mouth eat a tear and be happy to see the blue shell hear ‘no’ so they can know.
I need to grab the loss from the foul air of time and transfer appliqués of flowers on cloth and paper as an antidote to all foulness.
I need to eat the sweet plums and sour apples and the neutral figs and cut tomatoes in half to form pies of unity food of souls ascending and descending.
I need to stand central to all this and more in my circle facing all medicine in all circles.
I need this.
I need to reach out and touch scales and fur and steel and wood and cloth and the TV remote buttons to make sense of place and space while
my soul soars through seas of ancestors where voices echo through time and seat
themselves in present circles.
(Dedicated to my Grandmother Amanda and adopted Grandmother Grace Spotted Eagle)
(Honor copywright please)
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