With visible breath I am walking.
A voice I am sending as I walk.
In a sacred manner I am walking.
With visible tracks I am walking.
In a sacred manner I walk.
With visible breath I am walking.
A voice I am sending as I walk.
In a sacred manner I am walking.
With visible tracks I am walking.
In a sacred manner I walk.
[The story of White Bison Spirit Woman
as recounted by the great medicine man Black Elk;
Black Elk, in Neihardt, Black Elk Speaks, pp. 3-4].
I love just sensing Her...
ReplyDeleteWelcome back, Cris, after a while ...
ReplyDeleteAway for a while, aback for a minute...
I, a mistaker by nature and folly, could take you for the Spirit Woman who is walking Her way into Being in the most turbulent, blasting of ways. She's "nothing like the sun", nor like the moon, the earth, or anything you know. She is walking Her way defiantly, crushingly. Like a herd of bisons advancing, galloping, breathing in spaces and munching territories ... leaving behind the remains of the plain and a faint fragrance of sacredness. A sound of winter and a roar of summer. A legend. And an Elk speaking in verse.
The White Bison Spirit Woman can take any shape, can dream any dream, can fracture any world. She can be a tall, slender birch tree, thinly flaking with old-age. Or a willow flirting with her shades on the wall and her evanescent image in the ripples of the pond. Or the fingers of water reaching for solid space, drawing eyes, evil eyes, on the sand, a liquid skeleton fighting for substance...
A Spirit Woman can be anything...everything...as long as, after a while, she comes, very beautiful and singing...
Oops! flirting with her shadows on the wall. Sorry :-(
ReplyDeleteasa simt si eu pasii femeii,plimbandu-se intr-un fel sacru,sacrificial,printre umbre,arbori iesind din nicaieri,cu meandre,cu freamat,mereu pipaind,cu degetele umbletului ei,urmatoarea forma invaluita in umbra,mereu curajoasa,avida de a cunoaste liniile clipei.un zig-zag care imi aminteste chiromantia podului pe care il strangem in palme.
ReplyDeleteDear Hajszi,
ReplyDeletegood to have you back here, sensing Her.
Dear A.,
I hadn’t realised the connection between the last two posts until you mentioned it. ;-p
Indeed, ‘the Spirit Woman walks her way into Being’, as you [again!!] so beautifully put it. She resembles nothing we know; She could a deity, or maybe the Anima, or She might be Love that comes to transform us.
The question is how we prepare for such an encounter or if we are ready for it. Once She arrives, nothing is ever the same.
Draga mea C.,
din nou, imaginile tale in cuvinte ma fac sa tip; sunt, bineinteles, cu mult mai frumoase decat ale mele.
Dearest Cris,
ReplyDeleteYes, She can be Love. I hope you are prepared, for God's sake!
A,
ReplyDelete:))
For God's sake! :)
I do not really know why, but reading you comment Cohen's Closing Time came to mind.
'Yeah the women tear their blouses off
and the men they dance on the polka-dots
and it's partner found, it's partner lost
and it's hell to pay when the fiddler stops:
it's CLOSING TIME
Ah we're lonely, we're romantic
and the cider's laced with acid
and the Holy Spirit's crying, "Where's the beef?"
And the moon is swimming naked
and the summer night is fragrant
with a mighty expectation of relief
So we struggle and we stagger
down the snakes and up the ladder
to the tower where the blessed hours chime
and I swear it happened just like this:
a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss
the Gates of Love they budged an inch
I can't say much has happened since
but CLOSING TIME
I swear it happened just like this:
a sigh, a cry, a hungry kiss
the Gates of Love they budged an inch
I can't say much has happened since
CLOSING TIME'
http://www.dailymotion.com/video/x106s6_leonard-cohen-closing-time_music
Seamănă cu o poveste desenată cu un creion imaginar pe o hartie fantastică...
ReplyDelete