Category: Ancestral


 

Universe in motion
energy flows- -Earth flows
constantly in spiral.
Clouds flow electric
energy bends branches
in waves of wind- –
rainbows the sky.
Universe in motion- –
constant humanity,
love energy never dies.
Life in motion- –
seeds driven by song,
rain given promises
carry us along- –
cleansing, purifying.
Moon forced tides roll out,
rising, swelling- -crashing,
a constant pull and push- –
together- -apart,
we’re all a part.

                      My heart flows
                      a river of emotion
                      and motion- -yet,
                      calm- -motionless
                      I listen,
                      surfing vibrations- –
                      clinging only to Earth
                      and her nature of motion
                      in motion.
                      Universal Energy
                      in constant ceremony- –
                      a dreaming,
                      drumming, singing
                      with my ancestors- –
                      sage smoke curling upward- –
                      prayer ceremony.
                      Eternally grateful,
                      I dance
                      to life’s music
                      in universal motion. 

 

Copyright 2012, by Suzie Ashby.

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Winter Whispers- -Waiting

 

Under winter’s                                            
icy face
river whispers.
Her life- -still,
waiting.
           Awaiting
the sun
warm and golden,
like the fire
in your eyes
during night sing.
I wait- –
you never miss
a drum beat
getting to my heart- –
wrap my legs
around the fire
in you.  No more
waiting like the river- –
flow with me.

Copyright 2011, by Suzie Ashby.

Photograph Copyright 2011, by Suzie Ashby.
From Family Photos.

Glowing mist shrouds slivered moon,
red- -morning light pierces the horizon- –
minus fifteen degrees- –
complete silence.
Wandering night shadows
slip away,
ice ornaments glisten- –
nature crisp and clean- -embraces
my senses- -electric.
I listen and cling to every particle
– -miracles. 
Sage smoke offered inward,
upward- -outward,
I give thanks.
Earth’s eternal love
never sleeps,
unmasked in the dawning
she feeds my soul.
Bird’s wing flutter stirs
snow from branches,
even whispered echoes ripple- –
 action and reaction in motion
turning, churning- –
learning my way back
through ancestral dreams.
It’s an unconditional thing,
nature’s awakening
in this new year.

Copyright 2011, by Suzie Ashby.

Mom and a Sis, and Mom.

She was a tear- -a stone,
the sun and moon traversed the sky
to brighten her dreams.
Her dreams glittered star dust.
She had it all- -gave it all
right from the start
– -love in her heart.
She was inspiration,
singer of songs- -weaver
of pallets for sleeping
– -maker of clothing and dolls,
a keeper of the old ways- –
keeper of names and truth,
burning sage- -cleansing soul.
She was a daughter of Earth- –
granddaughter of the moon- –
a sister, wife, mother, grandmother.
Her dreams glittered star dust.
She was a giver- -bringer- –
passer of light- –
flame on a candle
in the darkness burning- –
bright smiles, warmth, compassion.
She was a voice of prayer- –
balance and measure
of night and day.
She knew about loss- -hardship
and how to survive
on love.
She had it all- -gave it all
right from the start
– -love in her heart.

Copyright 2010, by Suzie Ashby.
Photograph, Collage of Personal Family Photos, Copyright 2010,
by Suzie Ashby.

            “Sometimes dreams are wiser than waking.”
                                                              Black Elk, Oglala Sioux, 1863-1950.

 

It’s an ancestral rebirth through us- –
children of the setting sun. 
– -Time, a laughter in the night
carries teaching voices in dreams.
Years fly- -laden
with the salt of their tears
– -sweat- -pain- -love,
again- -again time laughs
at the lost, losing what is lost
and our struggle to bring it back.
We wont forget- -despite time,
cannot, will not forget
the telling and retelling of old ways,
ancestral teachings- -stance- -day by day
oral traditions say we can- -we will- –
we are the travelers- -the bringers
and carriers of knowledge.  Still
we hear those days- -ancestral
songs thrum in our hearts- -veins,
heads and hands.  We see
them dance.  Deep in our hearts
we see their shadows working,
playing- -hunting- -living life,
giving life, making life the best way
– -in our deep forest souls, we see.
Our blood is their pulse.
We carry on for them- -have to.
We- -the ancestral vessels
sway their way- -to their beat.
Our souls rise up- -dancing
fingers of mist rising- -rising
from winter’s river- -gently
comes the night mist rising
drifting in time with time- –
through time, all the while
laughing back at it.  Swiftly
running the length of our lives
we grasp their arrows of strength,
baskets of corn- -like robes
for comfort, and berries plump- –
ripe with knowledge
our life’s pledge to complete the circle
on and on- -endless spiral- -life.
We know their fate is not
to be discounted, unattended- –
lost in time, but to be forever
reborn with pride- -through us,
Children of the setting sun.
We carry them full circle- –
each of us, one by one
to a new beginning- –
a spiraling eternal light
silencing the laughter of time.

Copyright 2010, by Suzie Ashby.

 

            “What is gained from our inner nature is exact
               knowledge, which gives us a far-reaching outlook
               Over the earth.  The many powers of inner nature
               are hidden in everyone, and those are identified
               with Wakan-Tanka.”
                                                                Blue Thunder, Teton Sioux.

She is your mother
                  my mother
                             theirs.
She bleeds for us
– -needs for us
to embrace her.
She is real- –
                      feel her.
She is a great vessel
of many ingredients- –
power, emotion- -beyond
fathomable comprehension.
We are all finely crafted
intricate paintings
on her flesh- -tattoos- –
images of humanity.
We are her history
                        her now
                          forever.
We exist- -only
with her care.
She is real
          is hope
               love.
She is life.
Know her- –
respect her- –
love her- –
protect her.
She is our Mother.
She bleeds for us.
She is real.

Copyright 2010, by Suzie Ashby.

My Grandmother Nora (Mom’s Mom)

Meadow swollen
with blossoms
velvet wings flutter
Nora- -Small One Laughing
in shining sun
seeks flowers for her raven hair.
Eagle screams in the wind
– -they come, Thunder Beings
rolling, crashing
hiding the sun.
Skyward
Small One’s eyes
fly with Eagle- -soul
flies.  Nora- -Small One
Laughing sings to the skies.
Crystal rain
dropping, leaping
spilling down- -down
over lichen painted granite– –
granite painted Earth.
Small One Laughing
becomes the rain- -one
with it, dancing.
Golden sun returns- -glistening
from above sweeping
painted Earth with love.
Nora- -Small One Laughing
rain kissed- -on the run back
through the warming sun- –
back to the wild flowers
for her raven hair.

Meadow Wild Flowers

Copyright 2010, by Suzie Ashby.

Both Photographs Family Property of Suzie Ashby, Copyright 2010.