Aspersorium

     
Western Carolina is burning
her dry under-story kindling  
for the charred teeth of wildfires  
jawed for genocide      
       
Her scorched lungs expelling      
thick particles of ash –      
Dryads surrender their forests      
erupting into volcanic glow      
yellow arcs pulsing underneath      
a clear sky of stars.      
     
Skin peels from the land        
vulnerable as your voice      
repressing the urgency      
of relocation, pushing      
us toward safety      
in a massive evacuation      
from our destined rendezvous      
     
Your family dances for rain      
Elders in the heart of the lodge      
summoning the Great Spirit        
until all is One in Heart      
I watch, mesmerized      
at the beading sweat      
emerging over your brow -      
its furrowed lines fertile      
with a flooded harvest        
     
And it will come, the water      
because you refuse to stop      
until it does –      
your warrior Spirit      
the rhythm of your steps      
vibrating across the dirt      
to the timing of prayers      
your ancestral blood scattered      
across your father’s land      
the ceremonial rite of passage      
the medicine works of your heritage      
     
As I sit in wait, pen this invocation      
of verse from the safety you arranged      
you are here despite absence      
your beads meeting in unison      
to the algorithm of your dance      
your Eagle feather cindered black      
your creased skin of paint      
     
The sky will crack its holy aspersorium      
dip it’s purple thumb into the lightening      
the aromatic oil of potion’d sacrament      
anoint the flamed tongue      
with its last rites of final breath      
relinquishing the ghost      
to ashen evidence      
doused remains smoldering      
across a charred landscape      
     
Together we’ll all survive          
forage sparse resources      
rebuild from the aftermath      
Love restoring the beauty      
from what remained behind        
     
In the foothills the wind      
extracts news from billowed dust      
drifting over a sunny Piedmont –      
     
Smoke-signaled calls of hope        
from a requiem of tears and loss      
~    
   
 
 
Western NC and SC are being ravaged by forest fires -    
my heart seared with rocks, my Spirit with the forest