Saturday, November 11, 2017

REFLECTIONS OF MYSELF

My own reflections come from the sacred eyes of my sacred lodge belongs to Kish-Shamm Manitou (Our Creator), within this sacred lodge dwells the spirit of Monnzheeze (fawn), my wife.

We both feel in our own way someplace dwells perfection, it was once here long before the invasion of this white man...along with greed and lust.

We know the natural and original creation has all but been abandoned by the cultures of today.

We know there are many people around that still live that natural and original way created by Kish-Shamm Manitou.

And in my eyes, also come reflections that belong to you, Monnzheeze, my wife.
  
We are a oneness this way....
                                   
Long ago during a Peyote ceremony, legend has it how a man and a woman from the Potawatomi nation entered into this sacred ceremony and their spirit's met. They talked that way for a long while and decided not to return back down here.

They walked away laughing in that manner.

Many have gone that way and it was found that their own materialistic sacred lodges were empty of this life.
Their spirits had abandoned this sacred life. They walked in to a belief.

We hear those walked away from life that way.

When it rains, their laughter can be heard, or their soft pitter-patter of running feet while those many raindrops fall down on us.
Their laughter can be heard from swift rivlets, creeks, brooks, mighty falling rivers.

Theirs can be said of a happy life the way they walked away together.
                                   
So, it is not always that one that walks into spirituality alone, there are many want this way, just as I do.

Just as my Monnzheeze wants it.

We are filled with a fear of many things...even this life.

That is why many of us look at each other in apprehension towards all that swiftly and silently approaching all of life from a direction that all of life must inevitably enter.

I have always said, I will walk alone if need be. There is no fear, only what we carry deep to the bottom of our sacred lodges.

So, these are reflections of myself.


The Way Called Beautiful by Helen Bird

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