In my tribe
the way it was
before the ancient ways were lost
to history, and to other tools
with which we’ve been subverted
In my tribe
each infant soul
was braided with such care
into the stream of all of us
that none was ever dropped or lost
and as it grew
each one learned its vital, pulsing rhythm
and its needed place
how to move strongly in the power of its knowing
how to contribute, how to own its name
So we were all
united with the magic
and we strode along the elemental forces
and our hands knew how to bring
each fine idea to fruition
and our feet knew how to run the ancient courses
As they will again, as we remember
all the pathways of our common dreams
how to mirror forth our inner splendor
and braid ourselves together in the stream.
©Wendy Mulhern
September 6, 2012
Wow. Chills. There it is.
Such a resonance with the Aboriginal art/life/dream & songlines/shared paths & devotions & responsibilities.
And a full tribal vision, an ecosystem expanded from what we are braiding at dance.