Chat Page: May Issue 2013

Great Spirit

I left the hustle and bustle,
The bickering, boasting,
Clattering, fussing and fighting

And took myself off
In search of Great Spirit,
To a place where Herons still grace
The sky, like a prehistoric shadow.

I stood in wonder.
There she was, Great Spirit.
I felt her on the breeze and heard her
In the rushes and the reeds,
Then saw her as she flew right through the trees.

Right there, I fell down to my knees
To thank God
There is a place
Where Great Spirit still flies free:
Breathing Life and Soul
Through You and Me.

© Alexis

The Ancestor’s Brother

Two lovers lay in the shade of the tallest, oldest tree in the forest.
The comforting smell of the moist Earth filled them.
The tree was pleased to shelter them from the heat of the Sun.
As they rose to leave, the man saw an acorn, recently split.
He showed the tiny root of the new tree to his lover.
They took their new-born son to the forest and showed him the tree.
“We made you here”, they told him,
“your life began on the same day as this young tree’s”
“We think of him as your brother”.
The tree thought so too.
And if a tree could weep, the tree would have wept with love for his brother.

Each time they visited the forest, they told the growing boy the story.
The boy grew to know the tree as his brother.
Children played in the forest.
Their cries of joy filled the air.
And if a tree could weep, the tree would would have wept with their delight.

A young man came to the forest with his love where they shared their first kiss.
And if a tree could weep, the tree would have wept with joy, sharing his brother’s love.
In the shadow of his ancient mother, the young tree grew slowly.
In autumn, a powerful storm felled the old tree.
And if a tree could weep, the tree would have wept, seeing his mother fallen before him.

The tree reached into the clear sky above him and grew tall and strong.
A man visited the forest with his family and
the tree sheltered three generations of his brother’s kin.
An old man, bent and dressed in black came to the forest.
He sat in the shade of the still-young tree and wept for his lost wife.
And if a tree could weep, the tree would have wept with him.
Four generations of his brother’s family visited the forest.
All were dressed in black and the tree knew he would not see his brother again.
And if a tree could weep, the tree would have wept with grief.

One hundred generations of his brother’s family have sheltered beneath the ancient tree.
All knew the legend of the ancestor’s brother.
Only the tree knew it was true.
Two lovers lay in shade of the tallest, oldest tree in the forest.
The comforting smell of the moist Earth filled them.
As they rose to leave, the man saw an acorn, recently split.
He showed the tiny root of the new tree to his lover.
And the tree wept.

© Mike Wilson