the sacred / michelle red elk

the wordless acts
yellow beams reunion
an eternal procession beyond reverence
the naming
rock paintings in all places
soothing soil
translators of caves
sharp winters when black timber cracks
the architecture of the sacred circle
stones hand picked for their songs
domes of stars colliding
a low elegance of mountain flowers
the four directions
stitched with earthworms and moss
sand and thorns
voices of the dead rustle
our bones and fingertips
words begin to swell
a simple chant carries itself out
it rolls into corners
lays its hands across generations
calls the horse to the circle
extends its honor into our own veins
roaring through us we feel the chant
pick up on the chords of truth
that the heart of the horse reveals
we become one
we sing
“Behold, a sacred voice is calling you;
All over the sky a sacred voice is calling.”*

*Black Elk

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