The Shaman

English: A MAKER OF GODS: IMAGE CARVER AND HIS...
English: A MAKER OF GODS: IMAGE CARVER AND HIS HANDIWORK The sacred grounds of the gods are said to have existed from time immemorial, but missionary work is growing apace in Ambryn Island, and it is doubtful whether posterity will regard the ground or gods with the same superstitious dread as did their forefathers. This grey-haired native, however, knows all the prayers and charms which control and appease the spirits dwelling within these idols Photo, American Field Museum, Chicago (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

 

Driving down a dusty road on sweltering day in the deserts of New Mexico , I pass a Shaman on the side of the road. Grey haired and grisled, wrinkled from the sun. His eyes held my past, present and future. The eyes are the windows to the soul, and when his eyes met mine they looked through all the transparency that ever could be me.  Close to death as he was, the Shaman passed through me and into me, melding and morphing into one being.

 

began to see things around me differently, as if I had been lifted to higher level of consciousness. Love was still love, but it was deeper now, and all encompassing. It did not discriminate when it came to boundaries, people places and things were no longer cloaked in robes of bullshit. I could see beauty and ugliness as well. Nothing was hidden from me.

 

The darkness that dwelled within me was as equally as powerful as the light which took up residence in my soul. Early on I felt a struggle to control them. I felt the need to allow the good, or the light if you will, to win out every time, It just doesn’t go down that way in the real world, or any other world for that matter. The dark has to have it’s chance to flourish as well. Without Darkness how would we even know that there is a light, anyway? Most people consistently live by the theory that good beats evil every time. Sometimes good and evil sit side by side as happy go lucky playmates allowing destiny to play out it’s final chapter,

 

 

 

azure eyes

 

in your eyes

 

prismatic

 

jizztastic

 

body’s a tomb

 

come out your room

 

brother/sister

 

sister/brother

 

there is no reason

 

there is no season

 

love is love

 

and

 

love is love

 

 

 

 

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s