Leafy Greens

(collab of Shaman and Prophet)


Over the tides of smoke, his memory lost.
Many words have been spoke, & who knows what it's cost?
Hope stirs anew from the frost of bygone ages;
Glaciers melt through, from the Gnostic truth of sages.

Quick tempered rulers recoil their compassionate glances,
While empathic shamen toil through love, in passionate dances;
Still, they covet the Spiritual Truth of a path forgotten from mention,
And strive, through true mutual respect, to breathe deeply, and relieve tension.

Cryptic words of the Oracle, reveal his path to Eden,
And the crossroads mark the rhetorical point we shall meet in
The Four Directions aid in his journey towards Wakan Tanka
Our hoop is blessed by Mother Cow, and the buffalo, Tatanka.

The heritage of all, green fruits of Earth, bloom for the few.
Spirits don robes of light, clean suits; the birth loom weaves it true.
The walk of our tribesmen, arduous roads they have crossed;
It's all in the timing, and beware, all is not lost.

Endlessly searching deep within himself for keys to sacred riddles,
The bard plucks his lyre, as he sings, while the fiddling priestess fiddles.
Actions and consequences permeate from the smoke of leafy greens.
Tactics of evil empires cannot take from us what eternity means.

Fraught with spirals of fire and gore, informational wars pursued,
Rotting in the quagmires? No more! The nations' truths shall be renewed!
Kings of old don armor and shield to combat the greed of many,
Let us flip the paradigms, with both sides of the coin, like a penny.

Wisdom seekers, like heroes of lore, respond to the bard's song;
Sages, teachers of wisdom and more, know empires can't last long.
Let the next pathway hidden in sand, stand, asleep no more;
What once was lost has now been found, and remembered to the core.