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(Wishes of Happiness and Prosperity)

"Season of the Eagle"Bev Doolittle, Artist

Note: Stories are linked on another page as follows. Poems are listed below.

To View Stories - Click Here

November 26, 2003

Alive Alone

We are all alive alone.
Neither friend nor lover
Child nor mother
Can light our way for very long.
Out of loneliness
Arises the self we never knew.
Out of fear
Comes the wisdom of our ancestors.
Out of impatience
Grows the persistence of old age.
These shadows of our memory
Create new pathways to the soul
So that in being alive alone
We become alive together. Poem by: Nancy Wood

**Special thanks to George for the wolf gif**


A call is heard, two souls stir,
to taste the wind as one;

One, the protector, a protective spirit,
father of many;

One, the life giver, one who nourishes,
mother of all;

Together a bond is made for life;
To share, to be, as one...

--Donna J. Jacobson--

Woman-Heart Spirit

The woman-heart spirit was released by the Creator
a long time ago in order to nurture children,
animals and plants, trees and rocks, and also
men, who resisted the softening of their wild nature.

The woman-heart spirit roamed the deserts and the mountains
looking for ways to create awareness
the food the earth needed for survival
and the recognition of beauty in the land

The woman-heart spirit was wild, untamed
like the river and the wind
who taught her knowledge of a certain kind,
different from the knowledge of men or children

The woman-heart spirit became the guardian
of language and music and the stories
needed by birds and animals and people, as
the world changed and imagination dried up.

The woman-heart spirit became the keeper of compassion,
strong yet invisible, the connection between
all living things. The woman-heart spirit
is nothing more than love, overlooked when the world began. Poem by: Nancy Wood

Things That Remember Themselves

Thing that remember themselves
are not forgotten, but rise on wings
of experience and paint our minds
with visions of our ancestors

Things that remember themselves are pictures
without form and words without a tongue.
They give meaning to what we thought
we had forgotten in our youth.

Things that remember themselves give light
to the uncertain paths we used to take,
bringing beauty to the house
of our ripening old age.Poem by: Nancy Wood


Everytime we take a breath, we become
the universe. The very moment of creation
is contained in us and passes on to rocks and trees,
animals and fish. The onld ones say the essence of life
is in water and wind, earth and breath, fire and bone,
but most of all in breath, our first connection
to the elk, the hawk, the bear, and the buffalo.
Without breath, no connection.
Without no connection, no creation.
Without no creation, no breath.
This is the sacred circle of life, unbroken.

Poem by: Nancy Wood

The Wild Woman's Lullaby

Wild woman of the mountains, running barefoot through the grass
of summer, your raven hair braided with sunlight,
and a touch of mischief in your eyes, sing a song
of freedom to the dark skies of isolation:

"I am a bluebird's wing, the voice of fire rising higher
than the cloud point of summer rain. I am the
footstep you hear in darkness, leading you out of the
night. I am forgiveness and creation's daughter."

Wild woman of the mountains, swimming upriver
against the current, your body covered with leaves,
the blood of otters flowing in your strong arms,
sing a lullaby to children yet unborn:

"I am mother to the whole earth, daughter to the
falling sky, sister to dreams of rising beyond
life's ordinary claims. I am you inside of me. I ask:
'Oh, children of the coming generation, how will you live?
Oh, children of war and famine, what will you do for laughter?'"

Only those who hear the voice of the mountain
can sing the wild woman's lullaby. Only those who run
barefoot through grass, and swim upriver, can know
the message in her heart.Poem by: Nancy Wood

Selected Books by Nancy Woods, Illustrated by Frank Howell:
"Spirit Walker"
"Shaman's Circle"
"Dancing Moons"

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