Tree prophecy:
The Great Ones shall fall,
and our Children grow in slavery,
'til all is Dust,
and our Seeds are lifted from the Seas
and nurtured by the Stars --
then, shall we live again;
and remember.
The Reaper swings the blade
and severs life from life:
Do you see my tears, Grandfather Tree?
The Old Ones knew some day
we’d sever Light from Light:
Our darkening land fulfills that Prophecy.
Listen...
Wind pauses
Surf slows
Crow ponders
Hawk knows
Cloud frowns
Bear sniffs
Tree sighs
Earth shifts.
Caldera chants:
quite soft, quite low
...Too soon the Dance;
too late the Crow...
The lantern swings
on a lifeless bough
...The night wind brings
a fattened cow...
Caldera's breath
foretells its Change:
Too soon the Death;
too late the Rain.
Journey to the Stone People --3-2-4
The Canyon's Prophecy