This is something I've grown accustomed to…
I sit by a tree…and it speaks to me,
I perch on a rock…and it begins to talk.
And I hear the secrets they hold,
The stories of old that may be told.
You move through me
Because we are kindred spirits says the tree.
Brothers and sisters of the elements...you see,
Just as iron and oxygen color me,
The rock said,
So too, your blood runs red.
This is something I 've accustomed to…
I awake to the dawn,
Sing praise to the wonder of the day,
Then I say to myself…self, go take a hike!
Just like yesterday when I traveled up a ravine,
To hear what might be heard, and see what might be seen,
Open my mind to discover what I might find.
And there it was, a big old tree…
A wise old sir called Grandfather Fir.
So I said hello,
Scattered ancestral ashes at his feet, shared some water,
An embrace of course, and a glorious ceremonious kiss…
Lucky tree…lucky me!
Then I gave him a toast with a puff of smoke,
And said to old Sir Fir,
What should we talk about today…
Life, death, birth…meaning…love…sex…poverty or riches?
All in good time he said,
Now go to sleep Rip van Winkle,
And of these things,
I will speak in your dreams.
So with Jupiter by my side, I closed my eyes,
As these words rang in my head…
See a Circle…See a Circle…See a Circle…
All slips are to learn
You are already in heaven in terms of time and space,
And the only barrier to there for you and your race,
Is to see through the murk of your own mind,
Steer clear around the clutter of utter nonsense.
See these ants who live on my bark…
While you call me tree, I say they are we…
Together like you and I…
As all things of the Earth and Sky…
We is one big I…and I is one big We
It’s a circle you see…
How you love, is how you seek…
And what you seek, is what you get.
That’s the gist of it, whatever it is,
Whether beauty and hope, or ugliness and despair,
It’s all there as part of the plan young man.
Now at this point I opened my eyes and left old Sir Fir,
But I kept hearing what I could hear,
And seeing what I could see,
For now it seemed the whole forest was talking to me…
Faith, trust, belief,
Mincing words just muddies the mind with maya,
And your biggest illusion is to believe
Intelligence originates from inside your head,
When in fact it’s all around…
Time unravels the truth to be,
And you’re just discovering to see…
This world creates by two simple means…
Love and Dreams…Love and Dreams…Love and Dreams…
On which to spread your wings, sweet things…