Thursday, December 6, 2007

My Ahiliya, sleep in my arms
Long has been my wait,since you rose from my side
My warrior come home, to kiss my feet
Take off your deerskin, put your cares aside
The mountains retire into the mist
And the leaves shiver in the cold
Lie on the pillow I wove for you
Lie beside me, the night grows old
I am the tsula you draw in
And I am the smoke that surrounds you
I am the one certainty you have
When the dark spirit confounds you
This pipe is man, strong and enfolds
The bowl and his woman he holds
Till all his thoughts within
Gently under the skies, unfolds.
And when you arch to draw the smoke
The Creator's breath fills your soul
And the smoke rises up to unify
Broken once and then made whole
Our dreams and hopes twirl in the fume
But our prayers against the gathering gloom
Is the 'us' we have, not talismans and charms
Rest my Ahiliya, sleep in my arms...


Drawn from a native American folk lore. Its interesting to witness the intrinsic part grass plays in love, religion and the community. Although, this post is not to advocate for it. We, unfortunately live in different times.

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