Friday, June 02, 2006
Poem by n. m. rai
Here is a wonderful poem by Naggie (n.m.rai), a new friend I have recently discovered. She has several blogsites and I will give you the addresses of these when I can get this computer to copy them correctly. She is a gifted artist and photographer, and often does collaborative work with Eric Ashford, whose poems have also appeared on this site.
It is truly encouraging to discover the many talented writers and artists of sacred themes now at work throughout the world. Through the internet, their creations are becoming more widely known, and they are also able to connect with one another for support and recognition. The artist's path, especially for one who writes from a mystical center, can be a lonely one without such connection.
Spirit Shamans
I move now in you.
Do you hear my raven's voice
chanting winged prayers?
We do not need language,
you and I, spirit shamans,
alive at opposite ends of time.
I breathe from inside your bones,
speak to you of antelope and lion,
and man and woman.
My fears crouch
around the fire in your brain.
You swallow my nightmares
and taste my joys.
Your words on the page
are my sharpened spears
which brought down great beasts.
Often you do not listen.
Your blood runs fierce in your veins
and you do not hear.
Feel my bones which lie under the sands
as will yours when your soul peels off
and your voice drops away and you join me
to whisper of love and awe in the night.
copyright, n. m. rai
It is truly encouraging to discover the many talented writers and artists of sacred themes now at work throughout the world. Through the internet, their creations are becoming more widely known, and they are also able to connect with one another for support and recognition. The artist's path, especially for one who writes from a mystical center, can be a lonely one without such connection.
Spirit Shamans
I move now in you.
Do you hear my raven's voice
chanting winged prayers?
We do not need language,
you and I, spirit shamans,
alive at opposite ends of time.
I breathe from inside your bones,
speak to you of antelope and lion,
and man and woman.
My fears crouch
around the fire in your brain.
You swallow my nightmares
and taste my joys.
Your words on the page
are my sharpened spears
which brought down great beasts.
Often you do not listen.
Your blood runs fierce in your veins
and you do not hear.
Feel my bones which lie under the sands
as will yours when your soul peels off
and your voice drops away and you join me
to whisper of love and awe in the night.
copyright, n. m. rai
