Sometimes you dream so hard
\nThe clocks of your mind begin
\nTo melt inside a Dali painting,
\nAnd the continents of your heart collide,
\nPushing up mountains on which the hunter inside
\nYou searches for the sacred white deer.
\nWhite mountains, white snow, white Buffalo, white sorrow;
\nThe land’s blood is white, and the white moleskin bison skins
\nFlap in the wind as crystals soak the mountain.
\nWe are sucked through the river’s white pipe.
\nTobacco like water, river like smoke,
\nOur black walnut branches freeze
\nFruit into the shadow Mother’s feathered bed.<\/p>\n
But when we beat our drums,
\nTo remember what we danced
\nAnd sang and the silence glances
\nBetween her shadowy apparition and vapory vanish,
\nWhat will happen to those snow ringed owl nights
\nDarkened by just her eyes,
\nBlown by grasses and anchored by stone?<\/p>\n
The white deer of our spirit was in the mountain
\nAnd also rested on her shoulders.
\nHow many generations she will breed
\nBe run off cliffs
\nPierced by the insatiable arrows
\nDragged away by a mountain lion mouth?<\/p>\n
Then we shall flank the grove of milky white pine
\nAnd fill its lungs with Arctic animal spirit.<\/p>\n
We will ever dream so intensely,
\nAnd love so dearly, our tears
\nWill become rain and our desire blackened soil,
\nAnd golden leafy dreams will spiral down,
\nFloating through the stars
\nGiving birth, like an angel,
\nTo the next door we open,
\nAnd the path of dreams blossoming in
\nThe dew of the night’s first dawn.<\/p>\n
Then our song will never
\nBe written, but instead,
\nBe sung.<\/p>\n
\u00ac\u00a92009 Stephen Pickering. All rights reserved.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Sometimes you dream so hard The clocks of your mind begin To melt inside a Dali painting, And the continents of your heart collide, Pushing up mountains on which the hunter inside You searches for the sacred white deer. White … Continue reading