Beats of the Spirit World

The wheel spins in this tribal connection.

 Beats of the Spirit World

Drums of the earth throb through 

The seven sacred directions. In time. 

Of the Chiefs. When tribes dance, the.

Powwow dance; calls of the sun dance.

An atmosphere that rhythm moves and 

Tones in shadow and light, Sun colored 

shimmer, silver thread through green 

Light. Beat repeat: into The Wheel 

spins a circle of life as power moves.

Stirring the pot, this feels like a jungle.

Party, the dialogue of those drum rums,   rum, rum, sets the pace where boots on fire                                                            music and people unite in the 

Tom Tom drums, the calls of a 

Shamaic shake down in tribal connection.

Beat, beat, Apache drumbeat!

Together we danced, meeting in the circle, zoning out of the body. That soars. 

Like an eagle’s call to listen with your heart.

Ancient rhythm, may the forest be with

You, in moonlight on the plains, as we shall follow our brothers, wolves and crows’ vision quest, find their knowledge of those. Who walked this journey before us?

Realms of remembrance, North, South, East, West Direction: every footstep is a drumbeat. With the energy whispers of the coyote, the drumbeats guide under starlit skies, trusting. In the sacred journey, along the way, we dance with the wolves.

This canoe song. With our Ancestors on the trail of the white buffalo, immortal wisdom, Wakantanka, song of the horse.

Drums, spirit of Geronimo, bravery beats. Life’s a short breath, feather song in rhythm. Grace, whose footsteps.

Traces red earth, silent lantern between every beat, the shadow of the past.

Spirit walker off the White River, colors of the wind that passed through the mist, 

found in every celestial chant.

In the roots of the land, where stars witness its timeless rites.

Author's Note

An Ancient rhythm.