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A Song of a Shaman (Not all songs are sweet)
I admit I tend to over-explain and over-think, so I will say little by way of introduction to this poem, which will be followed by another associated one tomorrow or soon.
As a shaman, I journey to other worlds, including the lower world, which is not hell, by any stretch of the imagination. I felt the voices of the Children and this Child. She and others (next poem) wanted their voices and wisdom to be heard.
Most people, especially the ego-fueled “leaders,” know little of such wisdom. The Children’s words, songs, and love preserve our essence of Heart. Wholly egotistical geopolitical concerns mean nothing in their light.
Wisdom of the Child
A weak, small voice reached the man’s ear:
“Excuse me, sir, have you seen my arm?
It was here a moment ago
When I was sitting in my chair
In my bedroom just over…”
Confusion crossed her blood-smeared brow.
Through heavy, choking sobs,
The captain asked,
“Over where, dear girl, tell me, please?”
“Where that big hole is,