the dawn rises over the forest, the dawn promised to wait for us in the eyes of the eagle the drums smile and dance eagles jump up, take turns around the lake, one round, the second round ... fourth, the drums hit the sky, feathers fall off, smoothly are falling, and are kissing the grass, and are kissing the earth when the eagles come down and down with the beak are catching the fish from below waters the thundering sounds swear the waterfall to be combed by the sun when drummers smolder all year round like the star of the night, smolder like coal extracted from the hearts of ojibwe people
I like traditions reading the same book on holiday every summer watching Frasier re-runs with my morning coffee going to the same restaurant on my birthday with the same seven friends meeting at the pub on the corner for a white wine buzz before heading to the city
Crawling back to you like I do every time and promising myself I won’t
My mother gave me a dowry a brimming chest of treasures a heart of rare and precious gems she collected long ago
She filled it with her words, her thoughts and things she knew I'd need she piled high with hopes and dreams priceless trinkets all for me and topped it off with years of love and a life of merry traditions
Then knowing that I'd need a map by which to guide my life she gave to me a legacy my Bible, pure and right and taught to me the art of prayer a rare and genuine gift she shared
I am blessed to be a mother now with a daughter of my own and I can't wait to share with her the love that I have known
We all live by the impulse of our minds. The visions we set pace. The ambitions we nurture. The whistle of our missions And here lies above us, A bridge we must connect
Oh! Tradition........ An entity that dares; of what spell in our minds. Crossing the bridge always seems impossible. Yet, our traditions, mostly laughable.
Sound minds lost to anxiety Love turns a new leaf of angst Lives witness it call to death And yet, a bridge we must connect.
Must we live by the traditions that ruin lives. Certainly, what I know of Traditions are meant to serve the people And not people as sacrifice For the oath of our traditions. What a bridge we must connect!
Live by good traditions and shun life taking traditions.
It is funny how the things that are too much make us feel. Too much of a bad thing is terrible. That is understandable. But what about too much of a good thing? Too much love. Too much freedom. Too much joy. Why do they scare us away? Somewhere deep down we feel like we don’t deserve too much. Just enough. We feel like we can’t be entrusted with such a large responsibility. Too many options to choose from. So many places to travel. All the foods. Those of us faced with this dilemma are surely the lucky ones. -- Perhaps their empathy is what stops them in their tracks. The knowledge that most people don’t get too much or even enough. But then again there is another fear, another emotion that stops them. It is a fear of being seen. Of being judged. A fear of their own power. -- It is funny how we can be afraid of our self. Funny and sad. Fear of the raw, unfiltered, undiluted power that we all have. Our upbringing and society’s laws cage us and inhibit our magic. The lucky ones realize this and do their best to undo the damage. To free themselves. The rest live like caged birds. Singing to please their masters. To get some food and water.