After what seemed  eons
he heard her saying this,
        gently patting his chest
        and wistfully looking
        at his withered rose petal lips
                      "You need to slow down,
                        be incisive, gaze, just not
                              with two physical eyes
                                master your senses, all five
                        if you want to see clearly
                      what truly transpires
                beyond mere words and actions"
         those frenzied moments
of love, despair whatever, intense
he somehow felt part of his, cherished,
                 But did they deliver?
             never did he regret a GURU's absence
                 still hoped in a deeper layer of psyche
                           "He would certainly come..won't
                              decide against showing up"
                      Still he was waiting
                           (looking at the directions wrong)
                             when she was with him,
                                     his lover,finder of path too, for a long while.
                              None had ever seized him like this
                                   and emphatically said such a thing
                                                   Now he could see
                                                     more clearly with focus
                                            as if the blazing sun appears
                                            when the clouds are driven by the winds.
             He heard the words of wisdom
             a woman like her can better discern
                because his light and darkness reflect
                on her screen of love, better,
                                essence-mind- bliss
                              "Sat-chit- Ananda"
                              where cosmic waves
                              make their presence
               At that instance he decides
                 to let go pretenses of every kind
                       he felt expansion of consciousness
                          a feeling words would never learn to express,
                         with stars in attendance he slept
                      cleansed himself in the waters of milky way
              frenetic drum beat of heart
              vanished as if he is no more
body bound, free to fly anywhere.
         wasn't she just predicting that
         the slow dance holding the hand
         that masterfully guides,
           it  begins
                            from this moment.

He reached for the rose, but forgot about the thorns
He reached for the beast, but forgot about the horns
He reached for the future, but forgot about the past
He reached for the journey, but forgot about the quest
He reached for the sun, but forgot about the burn
He reached for the knowledge, but forgot what he'd learned
That light without darkness simply can not exist
Like the possessed without an exorcist
One without the other would have no value
With is you cannot argue

Oh I just wanna get out of this cattle call to life
Go into the store filled pastures that used to be the wolf’s woods
so I can be the sheep

and the peddlers wear the skin of my sacred spirit animal
Oh, oh
The peddlers wear the skin of my sacred spirit animal
Oh, oh

Once, I dreamed I was running from a killer
in a faux artisan grocery store
Just when I thought I was beat
a wolf pup came, spurred me on
and distracted my would be murderer

and the peddlers wear the skin of my sacred spirit animal
Oh, oh
The peddlers wear the skin of my sacred spirit animal
Oh, oh

In 1600 and something
they turned her woods to a moonscape
They fenced in the chickens, and when a wolf ate one
they put up a poster
saying she ate their child

and the peddlers wear the skin of my sacred spirit animal
Oh, oh
The peddlers wear the skin of my sacred spirit animal

No Titans left to slay,
Constellations left to claim.

The temples of gods,
swallowed under eons.

In an age without wonder,
to be born with the heart of a hero,
is to be cursed in a time without villains,

Destined for barbaric purpose,
in a world without adventure.
Armor swapped for silk,
Surrendered swords to philosophy,


Still I believe that somewhere,
between closed eyes and open spirits...
The ancient battles still rage on,
flashes of wars without names.

Where blood shed for valor,
Paves paths for all nations,
to the hall of heroes,
and an eternal feast of celebration.

People say that growth is a lifelong journey.
Talk about the scheduled trip like it's to the most holy place.

I can leave I had a talk with my attorney.
I have packed my bags and I'm ready for the new taste.

Where is this fantastic place called the future?

Ears I don't need to hear the music you are.
I don't have to sing along to be one with thy song
You are the tune, my words fit in, meaning falls in place,
The voice rises and falls,the  journey of my music thus begins.

You are the river of nectar, that never ceases to nourish my shores.
That doesn't need any space or time to flow through; it never ends.
A drop of it's ebullience, I am catapulted from the flow of your wave.
I roam, searching for you, to return and immerse  in your fathomlessness.

High atop the mountain
a boy crouched alone in the vision pit – waiting.
Raising his red stone pipe to the four directions
he sent clouds of willow bark smoke
skyward toward his ancestors.

Naked beneath his star blanket he wept a man’s cry –
crying for a vision to come
that his people might live!
Chanting with eyes fast shut he waited and prayed.

First came the cries of the wind,
then the whisper of trees.
Birds swooped and circled about him.
He shook his rattle crying,
“Tunkashila, grandfather spirit, help me.”

A voice spoke in the call of a bird,
“Your sacrifice will make you
Wikasa Wakan, medicine man.
We are the winged ones and we are your brothers.”

In a swirling cloud his great, grandfather came and spoke,
blood dripping from the hole
where a white soldier’s bullet had found his chest,
“You will take my name, Tahka Ushte, Lame Deer.”
The new man on the mountain rejoiced.

Quietly entering the vision pit,
kind Old Chest placed a hand on Lame Deer’s shoulder,
“Four days have passed, it is time.”
and led Tahka Ushte down to the valley.

*June, 2006

I'll grab this time to think for myself
Can I really take this break?
Did I make you feel happy somehow?
Can I give up my ultimate dream for you?

I am now asking myself
This many questions inside my head
Can I give up my dream to become a mother
And to become a wife to you my dear?

Am I capable to have a home
Of only me and you
Without a child
And without a knot to tie us two?

While I'm waiting for you
To your quest to fix your life
I will talk to myself
And tell you my answers
to my own questions, in time.

Ocean currents exuberant, spell out what turbulence, really is
expressions of brute force, takes over the whole of ocean depth,
a puny little fish, blinded by thick foam, navigates alone, finding path,
sheathed in a silence going beyond mind,to a destination luminous,
never perturbed, calmly exploring that state, not fully discernible yet,
an impression abstract, getting infused with more and more clarity
each passing moment,then the orchestra of waves resonates with heart.