∴ he’s forest kin, with leaves as sleeves
lupine lope in the arcane of his gaze1
guided by constellations’ midnight score
on winding paths, his journey lays
strong he stands, amidst the verdant wild |
but falters briefly at the thief of hearts
no title claimed, yet love she wields
and truths unmasked in adoration’s arts
her presence, bold and steadfast
a guide through moonlit nights we fly
marvelous magic in the adoration she casts |
embers of love, tenderly she stokes ∴
- As I engaged in a Native American repatriation project alongside the Lakota people, the Medicine Woman’s words echoed with unexpected depth. ‘Your soul is very old,’ she remarked, seemingly out of context. Yet, her words transcended mere conversation, resonating beyond the museum consultation. In that moment, a connection deeper than words formed, leading the Lakota to extend me invitations beyond our initial agreement. Her words linger within me, along with the memories of our shared experiences, a testament to her wisdom and the bonds forged in our time together. ↩︎
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