On the land of our family
Are the ashes of generations.
Each generation planted with the saplings of the trees  
The Cedar, The Fir, The Larch, and The Mountain Ash
Standing regal in the sun's early light.

It is a new day
Standing under their boughs
Comforted by ancestral arms touching
In a circle of Love and Light.

What is emerging?
Sprouting up from under the Sphagnum  
It's a seed! Raising its head
Peeking up, and stretching towards the sun.

Ever upward it expands
Though nights of rain and clouds.
Through days of heat and seeming drought.

Yet the seedling grows and endures
Bent by the late summer winds
The fiber of wisdom ever increasing within its core.

At the end of Indian Summer
The frost begins to unleash its chill
The young sapling freezes
As the blanket of white thickens across the land.

With the weight upon it's back
In humility the sapling bends low to kiss the earth.
Bravely holding this asana in the coldest of the winter days.

Today by my window
I am basking in the sunlight of a very early spring,
Bright are shimmering reflections of sunlight snow.

Squinting, with eyes half open and eyes half closed
The small rainbows begin to dance
Between each pair of lashes.
A delighted inner child
Chuckling with joy.

I can hear the sound of water running  
And ice falling from the rooftops above.
The snow is finally melting!

The tall cedar boughs dance with the wind.
Up and down, releasing their winter coats
As Ice crystals floating on the air.

Gazing across the white wonder
To the very spot where I last saw our little tree
What of the little seedling?
Is it still alive?
Or broken and crush by the ice and snow?
My musing over the Cedar Sapling
Shifted with a gasping surprise
It sprung up!
Announcing "I am still alive!"
And my inner voice giggled with delight.

Hum, I wonder
Do trees have a heart?
Do they perceive beyond their bark?
Do they remember?
In this very moment the sapling's sudden appearance
During my musing seemed to express, "Yes!"

Is it just a deep enduring feeling
That the elders of this world
Are the 400+ year old Cedars
Keeping their long record of time?

My dear little sapling
may you continue to grow into magnificence.
I will only see your first 100 years.

For your last four hundred
Allow me to lie at your roots
Under the Sphagnum from which you sprung.

And my children will water flowers at your base
That you may grow as the guardian of the ancestor
Who planted your seed and watched you grow.

Yes, the very one who is now delighted that you
Have popped up from under your blanket of snow.

1 year, 9 months, and 21 days
Since your spirit took off it's glove
Finally free and released from pain.
Today I can say
The times I cry for you have become fewer.
More are the days
I remember you sweetly
And love you fondly.
Your hugs
Your smiles
Your voice
Your questions
Your teasing
Your playful humor
Intelligence and keen wit.
Thank you
For the joy that fills my heart.
Thank you for the tears
Of sweet sorrow
that graced my cheeks
Thank you for
Opening the door of serenity.
Allowing and letting go,
I find myself full circle
Embracing our love with joy.
I loved you then
I love you now
I love you forever.
I am grateful
That you were in my life.
Thank you for being a part of my life.
I will always remember you
With a joyful & grateful heart.
I love you son,
Mom

I stand with roots deep into my mother
With branches out stretching towards my father
And Light from the rising sun reflecting within my eyes.

Machi curing, Machi healing,
I sing your song. I feel your love.
Mi Pachamama
So full of love
Your flow of life, ever flowing
Your river of sound, ever singing
Your stream of light, forever shinning.
How can I ever cry when I am within your arms?

Arising with the warming sun
Flowing through the air on the breath of her winds
So softly the clouds release her love
As they are caressed by the tops of her mountains.

Her waters of love flowing…
Trickling down onto the forest
Gathering into the brooklets,
Streams, riverlets, and rivers
Satisfying the thirst of all her creations.

The sound of pan flutes filling my ears
The dance of chi coursing through
Even this body, this gift, this flesh.
Singing her lullaby
Embracing & soothing this tired soul.
Softly the winds bring the colors
Of her song into my beating heart.

Machi soothing
Machi healing. Machi Curing
Machi, singing me well with Her love
Mi Pacha Mama , so full of love
Your flow of life, ever flowing
Your river of sound, ever singing
Your stream of light, forever shinning.
How can I ever cry when I am within your arms?

Healing, Soothing, Curing, Love
I sing your song. I sing your love
Mi Pacha Mama…

No matter what country
No matter what race.
No matter what religion
No matter what ****** orientation.
No matter what peoples we identify with.
We are all born of the elements of the same earth.
We breathe the same air.
We all are warmed by the same sun.
We stand in awe of the same moon.
We each look up into the night sky from the land of earth.
Within each of our DNA
We hold the same markers as all of humanity.
With our roots reaching back
To the same ancestral first man
To the same ancestral first woman
To ever walk up on our beloved Earth Mother
Under sky of our Beloved Father.
Remembering a very, very old story
About the Dance of Creation.
In this dance Yah was alone.
Yah desired to share love
Yah desired to have joy.
Within a dream to share joy
Yah looked within and fell in love
with the two eyes looking back.
Yah stepping in the within
Eye to eye and arm in arm
In a whirl they turned and danced
Spinning in love with ecstasy and joy.
Two together within the embrace of love.
So so speaks the ancient story
Of the creation of the Spirits of Man.
Long before we were each
Born of the elements of the same earth.
No matter what peoples we identify with.
No matter what ****** orientation
No matter what religion
No matter what race.
No matter what universe, galaxy,
Solar system, planet, continent or place we hail from
We are all related in Love.