The Spirit Ride

The Spirit Ride

He sits down with a log against his back. A fire is burning as the sun sets down just beyond the mountains. He takes a deep breath and begins. Slowly he breathes in and out creating a sense of peace before he starts. He had a meeting this afternoon with a lost soul. He needs to make this journey if he can so he can connect with someone on the other side.
He closes his eyes. Sitting here he breathes in the smoke. The herbs that had been tossed create a way to drift beyond this realm. He needs to find the child if he can. There was something about the story he heard. His desire builds the bridge he has need of. His mind travels as his body slumps against the log. The spirit realm is just a step over to the other side if you have the gift.
Once he is there he needs to find the child. According to the mom’s description she is about eight years old. Her hair should be about mid way down her back in curls. The image he saw was taken when the child was a toddler. Her mother’s belief was the child aged as if she would have lived. Time tends to travel different here but as long as you believe anything can be how you want.
He travels in the image of a man although he is actually just a spirit. He starts walking through the gardens looking for the child. He finds her at the edge of the orchard. He walks slowly up to her in an effort not to scare the child. His eyes take notice of what surrounds her. He is looking for the guardian of the child. Not everyone ages here when they die. Her guardian is a grandmother like figure someone who watches over her but still has the capability to spoil her like any grandmother would.
He smiles when he catches her guardian’s eye. He must reassure them both that he is not here to harm. Grandmother nods to the shaman. She slides back into the shadows allowing him a chance to approach the child. The sweet child is building a bouquet of flowers creating something to share. What a way to spend the day under a blue sky where the clouds are drifting by!
His dress is everyday casual not at all like the tradition dress of the Native Americans. Most buckskin outfits are used in old West movies and traditional powwow circles. He is just as comfortable in a pair of well-washed jeans and T-shirt. As he gets closer the shaman speaks softly.
“Hello little one,” he almost whispers.
“Hello,” she looks up realising someone else is close.
“You look very familiar. Is your name Anna?” The shaman tips his head, as he looks a little closer to the child. She has long hair with just a hint of curls framing her face. She turns her head to look at her Grams and he spies the long curls cascading down her back. Her smile looks very similar to the lost lady who visited this afternoon.
The child nods sweetly. Her mind puzzling whom this man is and how did he know her name! She thinks that she has seen him around before not that she has talked to him though.
“I saw your mother.” The child’s eyes light up like a Christmas tree. “She told me that you are so special. You are still alive for her even though you are in the spirit world. I was thinking what does a special child, well rather a special spirit deserve!” The shaman’s eyes twinkle with laughter. He has a special gift planned in his mind.
“With Grams permission I thought I might take you for a ride.”
The little girl tosses her head around looking for her Grams. Where has Grams gone now? Anna stands up and rushes to the edge of the trees where she finally had spied her with her eyes pleading for the permission. Grams look over the girl’s shoulder and nods to the shaman. Anna squeals and bounces up and down. Before she turns to the man she hugs her Grams tight. Her excitement is hard to contain. She walks toward the shaman. All of a sudden it hits her, what type of ride is he talking about.
“Um what type of ride are you talking about? I am a spirit and so are you!”
“Well I was thinking that I could take the form of one of my spirit guides. The only thing is that your curls would be flying all over the place. If you allow me a moment your hair can be braided then nothing will block your vision.”
Anna giggles. Very few people ever think about her hair flying in her face yet he not only thought about it but also is willing to do something about it. It always gets in her eyes when she is running around with the other children. Not to mention when she is out playing with the animals.
“What type of animals are your guides?” Anna’s interest has perked. She has always wanted to fly. Maybe he could…
A soft chuckle slips out. There are several animals he could be. He tips his head and motions for Anna to turn. He separates her hair into two sections. The right side he tosses over her shoulder but before he starts to braid…
“Well my favourite guide is a wolf. He is a mischievous one. He seems to like chasing off the others so I will pay attention to him. But then again he can’t chase away the eagle. She just cruises out of his reach up into a tree. Or even better when she drops down and sneak attacks him from the branches.”
Anna turns her head as the shaman ties the first braid with a leather thong. Her eyes are as wide as saucers.
“So you like both animals do you? Well if we have time maybe you could ride both. Only thing is I still have one more braid to do. Turn your head please!” Shaman waits semi-patiently for Anna to comply. Reluctantly Anna turns her head. She starts to fidget anxiously. She can barely stay still long enough for the second braid to be completed. She has no clue what animal the shaman will be but she would love a chance to ride a wolf.
Her other braid drops down to rest on her back. Anna turns her head but is surprised to see a silver wolf waiting for her. She looks around to see where the shaman is when a paw brushes her leg drawing her attention to the wolf. He is larger then normal but she thinks that he is just the right size for her.
The child knowing better lowers her hand to the wolf allowing him to scent her before approaching his back. He tosses his head over his shoulder and turns. Anna doesn’t have to be told twice. She slips her leg over the wolf and gets a firm seating before wrapping her arms around his neck. Only once the wolf is sure the child won’t fall does he take off on the nearest deer trail! It allows Anna enough room and she can still watch the forest till it fades as it nears the cliffs above the ravine. The ravine edges the river that winds its way through the valley.
The forest echoes with the sound of wolf’s howls as they get closer to the ravine. The ride has been breath taking, feeling the branches brush by as well as the taller grass tickle her feet. The wolf howls back to the others. They must be warning him the ravine is closer then he is aware. Anna is getting nervous. The shaman wolf seems to be ignoring the other wolfs. He is headed straight for the ravine.
Anna doesn’t know if she should let go and fall to the ground or trust the shaman will turn before the ground falls way! The trees stop a few steps from the edge. Anna has just decided to let go when the wolf shaman bounds mid step into a jump. Oh no!
The wolf changes shape instantly into an eagle catching the updraft and soaring into the clouds. Anna squeals as the pure joy of flight consumes her. She never thought that she would fly upon an eagle. The shaman follows the ravine as it twists and turns it’s way back toward the gardens. This bird’s eye view allows Anna to see the full forest and valley. Something very few are allowed. She looks around to see where her friends meet to play with the baby bunnies. Then she spies where the maze is and remembers playing hide and go seek there the other day with Penelope. As the eagle slows his flight, Anna sees the garden approaching. She hides her face in the eagle’s neck. She doesn’t want the ride to end just yet. As the eagle slows down, she pulls up just briefly for just a moment. The eagle turns back into the shaman. He holds the young child and lands walking into the garden.
“Did you enjoy your ride sweet Anna?” The shaman breathes a little heavier from all that exercise.
“It was amazing sir. Something I never expected ever.” Anna hugs the shaman as a reward for her rides.
The shaman turns his head to see the Grandmother sitting on a bench waiting patiently. He nods to her before he turns back to the child.
“It is time for me to head back. But I will come again another time if you like!”
Anna nods with her head still full of the excitement of the rides. She rushes to her Grams to share the joy of the afternoon.
The shaman walks off slowly and in a blink of an eye returns to his body. He breathes deeply. It has been a while since he has been on that long a spirit walk. He takes a moment to center himself stretching out the kinks before he tries standing. Now he must track down the lady and share the joy of her child. He hopes it will provide the closure needed for her. Maybe the lady will attempt her own spirit walk and see her child for herself.

True Heart No Longer Hidden

As I look past the shadows I see the true lady.
She is the one who hides what she is going through from family and friends.
She is surviving but existing by a thread.
She has learned to escape in a secretive way.
She has learned what it means to be truly loved.
Found by true friends she learns to live again.
Picking up the pieces she rebuilds her heart.
Her friends cement the shatter shards into a beating heart again.
With the strength of character she resolves to create a new beginning.
No longer will she sit back while life walks past her.
Her courage gives her the strength to accept more then just friendship.
She bids her time till things are in place.
Her heart is no longer frozen in time.
Truest hearts know no bounds and can free the simplest thoughts.
Given and shared love will strengthen and free the torn soul.
She finds her heart truly loved for the first time.
Her fair mind finds her true love in his kind sweet soul. She does what she must to do right by him.

Through the Fog

As I look out of my window, I see the fog creep in!
It’s covering the ground like a blanket, tucking the earth in for the night
As I watch the fog, I take a good look at the view through the fog.

There are some branches almost reaching to scratch the earth,
It’s almost a weeping willow effect like at Gram’s
Others stretch up through the fog as if to reach out for the stars.

I sit quietly writing when I see a light it’s casting a shadow on someone I think
My curiosity gets the better of me as I reach for my jacket.
I walk out the door with a desire to find the light maybe I will see what caused the shadows.

As I walk the rolls away from me.
It’s creating a moving zone of no fog.
The edges seem softened as the clearing blends the fog.

A movement ahead catches my eye again.
I speed up my walking wondering who is just out of my sight.
What is drawing me to them like a moth to the light.

I am walking in the damp air with a fairly brisk pace.
Driven to find out what caused the shadow.
Just ahead near the park the shadow stops moving.
I slow my pace with caution lights flashing in my mind.

I smile as I see the neighbour bent down with his dog.
I must have caught his shadow as he walked past the light post.
He would have hurried especially if poor Baby took off after a squirrel.

Seasons Of Man

Spring brings forth-fresh growth
The flowers and animals recreate life a new
The gentle rain-washes the earth

Spring into life as youth frolic in the meadows
New love changes how we see life
Our eyes no long see the drab but the sparkle of a new day

As an infant he grows quickly
His parents nurture him much like the animals take care of there young
The innocence of youth soon gives way to the maturity of adult

As the spring season wanes warmer days approach
The flowers fragrance fills the air
The crops and gardens benefit from the warm lazy days

Summer start the harvest season
Early crops and the replanting of the fields need to be completed
Season of growth nature is in full force

Man graduates into adulthood
He explores not just his corner but the world at large
He is looking for someone to share his life

Most men take time to find someone who will compliment them
It is a skill to learn how to survive
As a cub learns on his own after trial and error after leaving home so must man

In the fall the crop harvests are finished
Nature slowly puts itself to bed
Preparing for the long cold winter it becomes sleepy

Man prepares a home to protect his family
A safe place to ride out the winter and a place to nurture his offspring
He prepares the harvest to feed the family through the winter months

In the cold winter months nature takes time to rest
To conserve whatever energy it can
It await a new beginning in a breath of spring

Man in the winter of his life has grown old
Tired of the fight to survive he struggles to maintain his drive
In the end of winter he will lay to rest in natures embrace

Never Far

A life was given to me blessed and cherished
An angel of heaven live with me
She could light up the coldest face with just her smile

She still visits my weary heart
Time stands still in my weary with her face lighting it up
She loves her mama

She loves that I am sharing our story
She is proud of how together we are making a difference in many lives
We are showing the world what life really means

Family means more than just blood
Hearts shared and lives intertwined across the world
We loved and still love our angel

Never far from me, she watches
She hopes I will find the happiness we share
She guides me across the sky to the next star

She was my light in a dreary world
She twisted her finger and I became wrapped in her hand
Always loved she lived her life

Touched and blessed she made her life’s journey
Her life may be over but she is still touching many lives
She will live on as long as I still breathe

Never truly gone her spirit rests in the heavens.

My Heritage

My gift of writing comes through my bloodline.
My love for reading comes that way too.
Even the stitching is a gift.

First, writing comes down through the ages from Great Gram to Granny to Mom to me.
All wrote in one form or another from poetry to small verses to journals.
Even letter writing between pen pals Granny and Aunt Connie.

Great Gram wrote beautiful rhyming poetry while her daughter wrote cute verses in cards.
Granny wrote in journals and to her pen pal for years.
My mom wrote journals of sorts about her trials in life.

Now I write poetry in story form.
My heritage is a legacy of writing which I consider a gift.
One of the many gifts bestowed to me.

Granny and Grandpa both were avid readers.
Granny enjoyed a good book while grandpa read to escape when he couldn't sleep.
Mom and I both enjoy a good book before bedtime.

Aunt Connie is a great inspiration to me.
She inspired my love of books through her gifts.
She wrote lovely letters as well.

Granny made beautiful doilies and had lovely quilting stitches as well.
I figure she learned from Great Gram.
Mom learned from Granny.

One of my favourite memories is reading a book under the quilt
That my mom was working on.
Maybe this impacted a love of quilts on me at an early age.
Now my quilts have become gifts for other children.

Moonlight Embrace

The old cabin has long since fallen.
It hadn’t been used or thought of in years.
But looking through grandma’s picture album, I remember.

A short drive back to the lake and down the lane to the old foundation I went.
Almost drawn by some sort of presence, I was.
Thank heaven, it was a clear moonlight night.

I walk to the back of the foundation rumble, watching for rocks and uneven debris.
I don’t know why I was even here.
There was a picture of the grandparents out here on a moonlight night.

The caption dated the picture before they were married.
It is hard to think of them when they were just getting started.
Mind you, they always reminded me of a couple very much in love.

Actually, I just realised the date on the album was the same as tonight.
Are they going to put in an appearance?
But they both died almost five years ago, is it possible?

I’m now standing just off what would be the old back porch.
You can see between the trees to the old canoe by the lake.
The path is so clear and now I recognise this area from the picture.

They must have stood by the water’s edge in the picture.
So wrapped up in each other that they didn’t know it was taken until much later.
I wonder what had just happened before it was taken.

I briefly remember Gran saying Gramps proposed down by the lake.
Maybe the picture was taken after Gran replied.
They both look so happy in that picture and so in love.

Am I imagining things?
I can almost see a ghostly vision over laying the view.
It looks like Gran and Gramps the night of the picture.

No, I’m not seeing things; Gramps just winked at me.
Their spirits must have come back on this anniversary and they wanted someone to know that they were together.
Now I know why I am here; I am happy for them and I now know that there is hope to live after death.