Heathen's Lair

The Rose

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The Rose[credits]

by Daniel Kemp

 

In the beginning, was simplicity.

There was no rationalization, the precious gift of humanity which tears things down into self contained bits in order to make sense of things, only to find that our mental dissection has rendered experience senseless. There was no pre-conception, or image, or expectation. There were no words, only feelings cast upon the universe and returned. There simply was, and that was Her.

It is said that Nature abhors a vacuum. Therefore, when I felt - with the purety and intensity of feeling that only comes from being young & unsullied by the world around you - that I was alone, empty, cast off in a world with no one or nothing, why should not the Universe rush to fill this up? There is not a "ceremonial magic(k)ian" alive that can match the force & purity of the emotional invocation of an eight year old.

And it was so simple then. I sought solace, comfort; the proverbial shoulder to cry on. What responded was peace, nurturing, safety.... Love, given freely with no expectations - and I responded in kind.

I can't really say that I am the Lady, but I carry a part of Her. I feel that we all do, though whether or not we all recognize this is something else. She burns, in each of us. It is the spark of sentience in all that exists, even down to a quantum level. When I was young I could feel the sound of the earth moving through space. I could make myself so still that I could spread out over my neighborhood and animals would come and keep me company on my roof. I could feel the life in a stone - micro-electric patterns dancing before me. (I have no other way of describing this.) The sky would drop down upon me and I could join with it, enter into it three dimensionally. Walk among the stars, if you will. I could become sunlight reflected off the belly of a bird in flight, or a rainbow captured within a dewdrop. All this, and more, I could do.

Then I got edu-ma-cated. Rationality and other people set in. I have been grounded ever since. Oh, my wings are not clipped - just damn difficult to bring out of hiding.

I always knew I was different. That particular knowledge has both saved me and damned me. For, knowing this, I never made the mistake of babbling seemingly "mystical incomprehensibilities" at others when I was younger. But it forced me to "play along" and become somewhat other than I was. This is why I hate the social nature of humanity, for it rarely lets any of the herd rise above the norm. If you venture forth from mundanity into uncharted waters, you become a social misfit - and, thanks to "peer pressure", uncomfortable. Your "family" will wonder what is wrong with you, where they went wrong, etc... "Concerned" authority figures (whether at home or in that great social prison we call "schools") will try their best to bring you back into the fold, re-encase you into the same (or similar) mold they have been cast in. (Variety is encouraged, within small, acceptable limits.)

Through this all, you struggle to retain your "vision", your experience, your feelings. You keep them sheltered in a secret place that you feel you can share with no one. But, being the social animal that you are, you try to share them anyway. You try various external forms for the communication of your feelings, your self. And this begins the long path of rising up from the swamp that others convince you is all around you, for you try to show them the roses.

If you persist, and you must - for your feelings burn inside you as only a very dense flame concentrated within a miniscule space can, eventually you meet a resonant soul. At this, the flame blossoms, rears up and encompasses you entirely.... And then rationality steps in, with its cousins doubt and self examination, and you feel yourself folding in upon yourself again. But not as tightly as before. And the resonant soul does the same. As you both fence, and dance (is not one the other?), with each other, gradually the guard is let down. And you begin to see other resonant souls, each of them trapped in what society calls "themselves" but what they surely would not. Each flame burning subtly, quivering in the hope of a direct caress, yet not daring to hope for any such event.

At this point, many years have passed by - Time soundlessly creeping by, wearing slippers on a carpeted floor. That floor is full of memories, and you realize how much of your life has been filled with other's ideas, and how deeply you buried your initial feelings. You are shackled to the ground now merely by the incessant repetition of habit, one of the hardest chains to break. But the Lady has never left, it is not possible for Her to do so.

And : In the end, there was simplicity. Within the swamp, which is really a desert (although a private, self-inflicted one), there grows a single rose. A rose which shines without giving off light, which shadows without casting shade nor darkness. A rose which thrives without water, nor soil, nor sunlight.

A rose which burns. And it is you.

 

 
Wisdom, Knowledge and Understanding

 

by Larry Kibby

kibby@scs.unr.edu

 

Great Spirit Grandfather,

I send these words to you,

Hear my prayer.

For these are my words,

To Father Sun,

To Grandmother Moon,

To Mother Earth

To all my relations,

That have been Created as I.

To the Four Winds,

That bring us the

Seasons of Life.

 

To the East

Where Father Sun rises

Bringing to us a new day

A new meaning of life,

A light in which to see

The path before us.

 

To the South

Where the warm air comes to us

Bringing heat and warmth,

The seasons of spring

And summer.

To the West

Where Father Sun goes

To bring to us darkness,

So as we may see the universe

And search for the questions

Of our life.

 

To the North

Where the cold winds come from

Bringing to us the seasons

Of fall and winter.

 

Oh Great Spirit

Hear my words

For to you I offer

My heart and soul

You made me

What I am

And I am Indian

America's Prisoners of War

I pray for my people of the past

Whose blood covers this our Mother Earth

I pray now as an Indian

Blood of my Ancestors.

 

 

Great Spirit Grandfather,

Look down upon

Your people,

For we are humble

Before you.

We seek your guidance,

So that we your people

May walk forever

In a proud manner

Before you.

 

Great Spirit Grandfather,

You gave your people

The breath of life,

So that we may live

With dignity and pride,

To always know

And understand

That life was meant for us

Your most humble

Traditional people,

And all that

Was Created

And given

The breath of life.

 

Great Spirit Grandfather,

Let my heart

Soul and mind

Be always strong with

Wisdom, knowledge

And Understanding.

 

Great Spirit Grandfather

Hear my words

For wisdom

So that I may open

My eyes and

See all that

Is good around me.

 

Great Spirit Grandfather

Hear my words

For wisdom

So that I may open my ears

And hear all that is good

Around me.

For I am humble

Before you.

I seek the strength

To continue on this path

That I travel on before you

In a most Sacred manner.

 

Great Spirit Grandfather

Hear my words

For they are words

That come from the

Heart, soul and mind,

And are filled with

Wisdom, knowledge and

Understanding.

 

Great Spirit Grandfather

My words are for you

To know and understand

That in a most Sacred manner

I honor and respect

The life you have put before me,

I seek the strength

To forever continue

Upon this Sacred path.

 

Great Spirit Grandfather

Upon the four winds

Are my words for strength

For they come from the

Heart, soul and mind

Words I send to you

In a Sacred manner.

 

Great Spirit Grandfather

Let all

The wisdom, knowledge and understanding

Be my strength

To continue on this path

That I travel on before you

As a Traditional Native American Indian,

Now and forever.