Warming the crystal close to my heart
My fathers love
And deep sense of knowing
Who his daughter is.
From inside the darkness
The intelligence within
A small voice
Distant in it’s charm and eloquence
But close enough to move the darkest shadows
It will speak the truth.
The fierce warrior
and humble martyr sit in the hands of unrequited love with
hungry yearning, yet softly manipulate the clay of knowledge
Through it’s fingers
The ancestors call into the void
As the void is no more the mystery,
where the crow sheds it wings and lays broken
but gifting it’s medicine,
No longer the oasis but a wild orchard,
a garden of wonder
Blossoming with the fruits of many life times
And from one small corner
A song and a drum beat is heard.