DREAMING EAGLES

Smoke-covered mountains are in my dreams

their strong ancient energy

calling

me into a period of creating

and inetermittent resting

there where there are no first people

we have always been there

testing

the realm of the spirit

answering the heeding of the wild energy

which blows its winds through the tunnels

of the minds of the mountains

seeking

and searching of itself

in its own forgotten visions

shattering the thought of today

into the moments of yesteryears

whispering

to the Cherokee what they know

to be the truth concerning their hertiage

but never allowing to many words to

burn open the wounds of those

searching

among the melodies and stories left behind

and my dreams become white eagle

floating

over smoky summits and

deep painful cuts into the sides of the mountains

soaring into a world which speaks of new

dentinies are not to be altered

so the writing

and song and stories continue

floating

in on the melodies

released from their storing of long ago

as the dreaming eagle fly

into the whitenenss of themselves

watching

bracelted ladies disguised in the colors of spirits

slipping out of the caves

warning me to look diractly into the eyes

of the ever blooming ever dying world

sliding

down into valleys of forgetfulness

the secrets melt into themselves

only to be lifted once again

on the wings of the dreaming white eagles

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