Posted Date: 25 May 06 Thursday - 1:28 AM
the dream was so very very strange and so bones and blacked out eyes and so many animals all around their necks and backs i watched as in the early light they gathered so many of them let us pass with our cell phones and our cheap clothes and they wore wood and stone and bone and woven in their own hands and they wore feathers upon their heads and they let us pass and there were children bearers and horsedancers and they ran their warriors in circles to be ready and i was not scared. i was not scared i was not scared up the mountain side over rocks so jagged in our car they knew we came and they let us pass others i came with but one were fear, but we were not scared and we watched them in awe -
i would like to describe so much more the child the hundreds that were there we do not own the land i see this land this land of the supposed free we are imprisoned and choking on nothing and time but they truly owned the land and the land was underneath them and respect for daylight and for the spirits and for the holy holy holy of our beating heart our growing hairs the acorns falling the dawnlight spread a ghostly fog through their gathering which to me seemed so haunted but was really only so holy and all that i came with seemed so silly like a car like the fear others brought i was so very in awe of the ghosts there i crawled like a quiet child and only one other knew and he too could not speak we walked slowly into bushes and forest dark dim early and pine trees he was not mine and i was not his and time was gone
i saw how they lived with the land how it grew in their hand how they danced ghost dance now. their eyes were sunken they were so old and steady they were so slow and ready for any thing. the house we entered was a white man's house a white man's house that had taken precedence in a flat clearing and it was too a ghost but they did not care and they kept a slow steady pace and i was told the hour was a magical hour an hour they came out early only sometimes to catch the light a witching light. someone told me the witching hour, but not in native american times there was no such word, but there was such a word. in those moments i gave up everything to follow an intense burning in my heart and when i followed and it was not there i was sorrow but it almost didn't care. i lost everything but it was ok because i was true
they let me pass and they knew i came into a foreign world of their wild and animal light and their sorrow too was there but our world will heal someday
