Sunday, July 30, 2017

Why am I here?



"Why am I here," he asked Spirit once again. The smell of moss, moist earth, and woods filled his nostrils. All he wore was his leather pants and moccasins. His skin was a deep dark sinewy red. The tears rolled down his cheeks. He was a proud man and this embarrassed him but he was too weak to stop them.

"My pain is great," he whispered to himself. Unclenching his fists, he wiped his face with his hands.From his left came the sounds of twigs snapping. A huge buck was making its way towards the Indian, its large soft brown eyes targeting the man.

He stood still and waited. The animal raised and lowered its head as it approached demonstrating its power and fearlessness. It walked a complete circle around him stopping in front of the man so closely that with each breath the buck breathed out, the man felt the moisture from the deer's nostrils spray his face.

Without a voice, the beast spoke to him."Touch my coat," the deer commanded.

The Indian reached out his hand and ran it down the side of the buck's neck. He felt the softness.

"Touch my antlers."

Again the man did what was asked of him. He felt the hard bone as the velvet covering was now gone.

"I am soft, yet I am equipped to defend myself. You are, too. Touch your head."

The Indian reached up with both hands. The shock of feeling antlers jerked his body.

"You are here to learn that a man is not one or the other. His heart is soft and his mind and body are strong and to be both at the same time is balance."

The Indian nodded and the dear touched his muzzle to the man's chest. A light burst forth and then the deer was gone.



Saturday, July 22, 2017

Blood Moon



The full moon dripped blood onto my plate. It was a red gravy dinner.

Feeling the hot liquid on my chin, I recalled the sounds and the smells. The smell of the wet fur and the sound of the brush snapping under my weight as I rushed to create a crime scene. The memories birthed another howl that began in my chest and with the force of a thousand winds from my lungs broke forth through my wide open jaws.

I needed this. I accepted it. I even wanted it. I would miss it if I had to let go of it.

The feeling of being alive lit up the night, a display of sparks crackled and spit. My aura of pain and power. 

To feed, to touch my prey with greed, to taste them with lust, that is what I was when the full moon dripped blood onto my plate.