June 16, 2017


in the old days,
everyone danced together
the young men leaping,
the maidens swirling,
the old men and women swaying and
waving their hands like shamans,
like birds,
like branches,
like witches.
the young had the power of creating new life,
the power to bring it to birth,
the elders had the wisdom to nurture and teach.
everyone knew the steps
everyone had the magic
life was a circle of dance,
from childhood to courtship to coffin.

in the old days,
everyone sang
there were dancing songs,
working songs,
songs for children's games,
songs to lull to sleep,
songs to heal the sick,
songs to ease the dying,
teaching songs,
memory songs,
songs of praise,
songs of sorrow.
everyone knew the songs
everyone felt the magic
life was a circle of song,
from lullaby to love song to lament.

once we had the music
the magic
the meanings,
once we had eyes and ears
for the rune-songs of life,
the gleanings of years untold,
our kin all around us
in field and in fire,
in water and sky,
in fur and feather and scale
and stone and leaf, too,
and we sang
all the year through,
patterning time
yearning and eternal,
from baby to bride to baba.

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