October

Under The Warmth of an Ancient Sun
By: Lloyd Michael Lohr

A gentle summer breeze,
he aroma of honeysuckle and heather lingers in the crisp, morning air,
a spider web still shimmers with the radiant dew of early dawn,
and the sun has only just begun to dance upon the glistening leaves of
the forest,
Morning has finally arrived in the verdant wilderness.

A stroll down a quiet country road invokes a sense of harmony,
worries of previous days are but a fading memory,
as I savor the tranquillity of each precious moment this day,
for now is the time to reflect,
for now is the time to reconnect with the spirit of nature,
to stand back and watch two squirrels frolic around an old hickory tree,
and think of nothing else.

I can hear the soothing trickle of meandering waters,
there is not a sound more calming, I breathe deep, the scent of serenity,
I drink long, from the cup of joy,
and rejoice at being alive,

Oh Earthmother,
star enchantress,
weaver of the magical loom,
I worry not what may come tomorrow,
for I sleep peacefully in the grove of forgotten yesterdays.

Never doubt that a small group of committed people can chage the world - indeed, it is the only thing that ever has. - Margret Mead

BEFORE WE WERE MADE

Before we were made, we were in God's Head;
in His Third Eye we were seen.
And so with every living thing,
this is how it has always been.

And He heard us being born,
and saw us living, breathing, crying.
He noticed all as it occurred,
and charged his angels with the word,
"Nurture them until the day,
and I will catch them when they're dying."

Then gently caught us from behind,
God put us back into His Mind.

copyright 1999 Robyn Wynn###

Had we lived, I should have had a tale to tell of the hardihood, endurance, and courage of my companions which would have stirred the heart of every Englishman. These rough notes and our dead bodies must tell the tale. - Capt. Robert Falcon Scott

THE WHITE GHOST
By: Lloyd Michael Lohr

I find my mother weeping softly, gently I touch her shoulder,
"Why do you cry my mother?"
I cry my son, for my heart is broken and sings in agony,
"Dear Earthmother please don't cry,"

I must child,
I weep a silent stream,
So my tears may give way to birth an unblemished river,
For I shall not walk this way again, my son,
The Tree of Life murmurs my name on the locust wind,
The seasons successions feel the hollowness, the coming emptiness,
If it were not for you, my children, I would surely fade away,
Sorrow is your Earthmother's lament,

I see coming before me the Spirit Horse,
The deliverance from remorse, beckoning my soul,
The winds of change chill my sacred heart,
Rain pours down upon my children, and it is all who feel the sting,

As dawn passes, evening approaches, I gaze to the cloudy horizon with
courage,
But fear fills the depths of my very soul,
For in the wake of the approaching storm,
I hear the roar of a thousand thunderous horses,
Distant echoes of exile's thunder.........rushing forward,

Oh wise Great Spirit, bless my people for I sense freedom's end
nearing,
In the forest, by the lake, on the plains, on the mountain,
In the desert, by a meandering brook,
Words are spoken with ancient resound,
Olmec stones sink below the loam of Mother Earth,
The day here is done, let night swiftly immerse the nations,

……………for soon the white ghost will come.

Words From The Ghost of Chief Seattle: "The struggle for freedom is universal and timeless. When freedom is expunged as a concession for economic union or cultural homogenization then the effected people have lost their sense of being, in fact they have lost the very essence that makes them who they are. History is filled with small countries and cultures who have survived in the wake of continued, senseless aggression. The Celts, the Basque, and especially my fellow Native American peoples come to mind." "Always remember, this country was built on the bones of the fallen tribal nations."

The only way to be absolutely safe is never to tray anything for the first time. - Magnus Pyke