The sounds of the crickets will be left here in Pennsylvania as I travel to North Dakota tomorrow. The sounds are very different there, especially on the hill where we dance. The Coyotes are present in the distance and The Thunders visit at least once.
The prevailing sounds in the wind are the Sundance songs and drum. That is the voice of the land, of the People. One does not need to hear a voice to understand it. The voice is in the Land. The People are one with the Land. There is no separation.
While these crickets and cicada, cat birds and wrestling corn will be missed, the Drum calls and I so look forward to living with it.
No comments:
Post a Comment