A common space for harmonic peacemakers
Hey, turn around! If you want to know who I am, look and listen.
I no longer want to hear only what everyone is hearing. I no longer want to see what everyone else only sees. I wan to hear the primal voices, the ancient whispers, the songs and silences, ignored but waiting—sustained by heartdrums in choral raindrops and solitary tumbleweeds. I want to see what is no longer visible but visits still in the hushness of dreams and recovers us in earth-heavy, midnight to morning, revelations.
I have chosen to be an outsider, one among many who has scouted the way back in.
But if you are not quick enough, be cautioned—I will be gone, riding off into the sunset on the back of a love-goat or straddling a medicine pony, with the magic turning of a leaf, or in the plaintive cloud-cry of a red tail hawk.
So if you want to know who I am; the light of my eyes, the breath of my touch; know my name: One On the Edge of Shadow—whose throat is green and who dreams of thunders. Tomorrow I might yet be alive in wilderness or in the house of spirits. Afterward, you will not find me in the madness.
Catch up, friend, please, if you can; especially if you are world-lame or soul-wingless. I desire to make a picture for you, so you too can see what it feels like in full windblown color to belong, to live by honoring, and to walk in peace, without fear or enemies.
D-Day 6 June 2012