Posts from — August 2009

smoke

is

in

the air

hanging there

around each and every

one of us

it is the pollution

we carry

the fall out of our lives

soon a wind shall come

and blow it all  away

some shall be eroded

under the force of its blast

while others

shall bend

and find

their

true shape

AH

blood earth

AH

blood water

AH

blood air

AH

blood fire

AH

blood bone

and the re-creation of this man

in the start of the world

when I whispered to the ancestors

and called out

White Bufalo Woman from the womb of space

and cast out the poison from the body

all the sea and space collapsed

into the dark places

of the first world

then even where starlight has lost its way

I take you to remake

back to the first foot fall

of your great great great primal grandmother

who stepped out into the

grassy narrows

from  both water and air

I call on the great sleeping beasts

beneath the earth to be

ready to rip out

the poison

from the soul

of this man

you whose blood has borne a nation

I stop the earth but for a moment

and take time as a ball of string

and wind it back to the the birth

of

Steve Fobister

All Chiefs must pay the price

but now the price is paid

by the ancients ones

who were sleeping before

your people saw the leaves

I return the mercury to the earth

the pulp to the trees

and demand

that creation is restored

to the soul and being

of this man

Steve Fobister

the earth will split

Ontario is an island

as is the world

all the tides now flow into your heart

the ancient voices

sing out

the ancestral prayer

and the world of Steve Fobister

is to be remade

for in the start of things

birth and death

are merely berries on a bush

pluck them as you will

spit them out now

no longer shall you be ill

i call upon the ancient force

the impulse that dwells in your home land

its name is this:

Shap tabari MAn u Can vara ri patai havac sha til

she/he will dwell with you

you borne of the eternal seed

no longer shall you die

but live in the

light

of the first growth

of mankind

everything has a name

its name does not alway describe what it does

but

what it is

everything has a name

are you what your name is?

look to the names of things

then you will know

what

is

so, you sit in a womb of silence

or in a womb of noise

and in that there comes

a birth of a moment

which travels with you

your entire life

and in the

soft light

of death

you can unravel

that moment

and celebrate

the discovery

of mortality

the world of 9 to 5

is a strange world

a dream to hold

us

cast out from reality

we seek embrace with the dark and the light

in the evolution of our humanity

but often sign up for

ignorance

called a ‘life’

there is no blame in this,

nor wrong or right

but in such a world

it is veiled

from shadow and light

it is the greyness

of almost

life

have you ever slipped into that?

or having woken from it was overwhelmed as to what to do next?

embrace the darkness and light

the strangeness of it all

and in that you will

your place on the human tree

and there,forever

bloom, blossom and grow

sound

form

action

cause

effect

each made possible

by mental space

between each of them

how

when

who

why

listen carefully

and you will know

each

of

your

senses

are

a gateway

to

enhanced comprehension

of your consciousness

the dwells just

below

the

surface

of your

mind

This world can be a smoky back room bar

with sullen saxophone and well- lived- in pain

it can be an ad hoc molecular spectacular

of disingenuous comprehension

and far too verbiose

but it is all

a soul refrain

a sweet melody

that brings laughter, loss and gain

and in a moment

one can rise or fall

or not at all

but it is all

a soul refrain

prayers on the wind

voices in the breath

invocations unknowingly said

the songs of love and death

and impermanence

guitar strummers

highway thumbers

all moving

to prayers as yet unsaid

whales blowing

nuclear growing

cellular regeneration

look to biology to know the democracy

hidden in the

politics of your nation

choirs of hope and restitution

priests of despair and confused devotion

all are prayers on the wind

i went to the mountain

and the mountain came to me

it sat down and cried

all its earthy tears

was that it was never heard

the last mountain of this earth

contained all the libraries of its kin

all the earth is a prayer in space

a slow motion

of intention

and unbecoming

life makes it self

where there is an abundance of space

there is life

all life is a prayer

on the wind of mind

and place

its in the air, on the wind

the smell of falling rain

the chatter and confusion

of idle folks

caught in cacophony

and grand lattes

its in the air

on the wind

the smell of falling rain

the chatter and confusion

of troubled souls

in bodies they do not understand

but for a pause

to breathe in

the healing qualities

of humanity

and

gather delight

in the

transmutation

of

the

light

that quietly

burns

in every human form,

mental, material and yet-to-be

we are

the great

unsolved

mystery