"Thought without language transcribed into Song.
An envelope containing no message delivered to No-one.
A dream within reach without a catalyst to spark the fiery heartbeats of the Ancient ones.
Tall is the breath of wind without voice carried upon its back.
Sounded from hollowed creation.
Heard by the cores of the trees.
Heard by the gods of the Sea.
Heard by the people of Standing Rock and Wounded Knee.
What we all come from is where we all wish to be.
What we crave lies underneath our understanding of reality.
Blessed beautifully are the knots of the tree; cells of regeneration solidifying sanctity.
I take this lesson from the gentlest of creatures-that to know life is to bE trust.
That in this relationship with all that is without it is this cyclical love that gives us,,
What we needed to navigate these shrouded places full of war and rust.
The crow does not question whether or not he has successfully dodged his predator.
He only dives with all of his might."