Ghost-wood bear-skull pines engulf us
primal ancestors
sons of an older cosmos
memory tree remember me when I am under the ground
beyond the aspens roots I see
wisdom centuries old abound
forests as graves of gods spoke
speaking through spores and the kernels of the oak
mirror-fencer's unhusked debris
mummified maps with no explanatory key
made from the death of an exploding star
what wonders more than they are?
Destroyed to find secrets in the ruins
where those who listen are transformed into magicians
enthroned by the great highways grin
the question we receive is the answer we put in
as we haul ourselves to the gates
but bound to our fates
Bring us back natures holy temples
Give us back the magic of the sun
Bring us back the mystery of the universe
Give us back our sacred mother earth
Winds whistle home the truth
here I stand truly written
ancient laws of the woods
far older than Akhenaten
Don't break the curse
we'll love what we once were
don't break the curse it's our sacred way of life
of life, of life
The barley that never rose
bathed in the shadowy sickle
cut through the floods of war
the smoke from our tongues seeks signal
Don't break the curse
we'll love what we once were
don't break the curse it's our sacred way of life
of life, of life
The forest is all and one
as far back as fish and further
sewn with seeds of the sun
where every grave is a mother
The pine tree calls,
opens the veil
“whom we adorn
we also invoke
by seed and stem
by bud and root
ritual of death
of life and truth
to the worlds waiting womb”
