Song for Together

The water-like ripples of the bird songs wake me

lifting my eyelids from their slumber

like a miniature sunrise

My quaky bones stretch like cold birch limbs

into the courting air of March

humming silent murmurs to the hidden flowers

My heart reaches for the melted ground

where the leaf litter crumbles

into muddy compost

Yet my ears still search

for the calling home

for the welcoming.

Where's the village song?

Where's the calling down

of the rain

and the blissful chant of the grain?

Where is the Daughter when the Mother falls ill

Where is Grandpa when the Son's heart breaks

Where is the feeling of together.

Far away we fly

on metal wings

slicing through flocks

to get to the beach or the jungle

"to see the world"

To see that it's true in some ways

in some pockets far away

that we do call with our voices

the rain, the sun, the agony, the blessings

We sing in the spring

And chant our mourning

until the haunting dissolves

And in our pocket here

where bounty is expected

and freedom reigns

we wake lonely

with the bruising of far away pains.

Where is the Daughter when Mama falls ill?

She's flying overseas calling home on her cell

Where are the Grandpa's with stories to tell?
They're back at the homestead; abandoned home-shell.

We're selling our souls to the mortgage Gods

and breaking our backs to feel worthy.

We're starving for wholeness of wheat and of tribe.

We're selling our fancy new knowledge

for what? Cars? Fashion? Pride?

I rise from my sleepy blankets and listen

for that call of the red bird

to sing me back home

to the vision of whole

where I can rest my birch bones.

Where the sunrise is sung

up by children

and the stories are still told

where the trees are known from each season's skin

and the senses stir wisdom from deeper within

I call out my voice to the wandering souls

to the hearts lost on the islands alone

to sing yourself home to the land

you call home

and sink in to the flavor of each moment born

How we long for the leaves to speak

to us

for the roots to tell us when to plant

How we long to belong

to feel safe

and yet free

How we long to sing

our wild heart song

to the wind and hear her call us hers.

How we long to shed our costumes of "independence"

and fall hopelessly in love with togetherness.

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