They are with us always.... simply waiting to be invited. Limited thoughts thrust them away; shopping mall... too crowded; freeway... too fast; our workplace... too busy; even our home... too commonplace. They seem so much closer in the forest... on the mountain... by the sea. We travel to these places not so much to find them but so that we can, at last, allow them in. For in truth the grandmothers are with us always... author unknown
My heart in your heart
My eyes in your eyes
see
My body in your body
lives
My voice in your voice
speaks
Of us
Our past
Now
The future
My sadness is a yearning
At remembering our lost greatness
We were a people
A land
A culture
We are no more
My heart in your heart
We are the stars who sing, we sing with our light. We are the birds of fire, we fly over the sky. Our light is a voice. We make a road for the spirits, for the spirits to pass over. Among us are three hunters who chase a bear. There never was a time when they were not hunting. We look down on the mountains. This is the song of the stars.
Passamaquoddy Song
I become the capability
I become the horror
I become the joy
Of what we hold
in our heart of darkness
And in our heart of light.
My heart in your heart.
Sbec
During a recent visit to the Anthropological Museum in Mexico City, I viewed an Aztec exhibit and entered the heart of those magnificent peoples
and their culture. The Song for the Ancestors was written in Mexico April 2000.
"When we walk upon Mother Earth, we always plant our feet carefully because we know the faces of our future generations are looking up at us from beneath the ground. We never forget them."
Oren Lyons, Faithkeeper Onondaga Nation
Created in the Joy of Sharing July 2000 Redesigned August 2001 Design by Sbec Thank you for visiting Enjoy...and come again.
Thank you for respecting the original work found on the Woven Ones Sungmanitutanka Sape and Sbec
