About Me

Name: granny
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What Message?

 What Message?
 
 
 
    Hurt,a pain so deep and wide there are no words,anger,beyond rage to cold unbending silence,sadness,a gulf within that is complete non-light.
    It is not Creator that I blame,but man,who has taken upon himself to be better,wiser,stronger,and all knowing,that he has destroyed perfection.
    There is no "Devil" beside the evil that lives in the heart of those who want,more than their share,more than what they can use,more,ever more.
    Once a world was given,filled with beauty light and goodness,to the children created of a love so great human minds can not understand.
    Freely it was given,a place to live,grow,raise children,dance,sing,pray,and be happy,hardships were given to make stronger and teach wisdom.
    Light,and darkness,cold and warmth,good times,birth,and sadness of passing,each have a time,each have a reason,these are good things.
    Food was a gift of love,to work a little for it was a lesson of love,the taking of meats was as well a gift of love,one that prayers are offered for as these are lives given.
    Life,that precious gift,had once true meaning,death as well,as that was a time well earned for resting,age was an honored thing,that white head held wisdom.
    The map of ones life,written on the face,was a thing of beauty,not something to bring shame,or regret,but a time of reflection and guiding.
    From the beauty and awe of a newborns smile,the sunshine held in a small child's laughter,the slow warm honeyed flush of youth.
    To the learned adult,must come the duty of care,to the Elder grown wise will come a time to share,hard work for every age and yet?
    As I look upon my world,I wonder,what have we done to our grandchildren,what lessons will we leave,what message to the future?
    
granny
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Well Taught!

                                                         Well Taught!
 
 
 
 
    Cold,grey,sky heavy laden,silent clouds moving slowly,not quite dark yet little light,brooding feeling of disaster coming,chills whisper on the skin,and there is no where to run.
    River white capped small waves lapping,though the air is barely moving,sludge trapped in floating branches look like arms raised in pleading,eyes drawn against my will,watching.
    Stark against the skyline,bare winter stripped trees are standing,all one shade and unchanging,despair rips through my spirit,prayers caught in my throat unspoken.
    Across the hills there is a darkening,arms wrapped tight around my body,watching as night is falling,small sounds then more silence,even the feathered seemed stunned to quiet.
    Light breeze pushes me home ward,there is no use to worry more,it is done and there is no stopping,time now to prepare as best we are able,strange but the fear is gone.
    Action now is needed,before the sun rise brings the ending,no more time for thinking the test of survival is upon us,mans own actions have decided.
    Dreams of peace,love,and caring,untold millions praying,unfulfilled forever in a time where all things were possible,with one mind those chosen to lead destroy all.
    Empires topple,rotted from the inside,paper dreams and paper money,up in smoke without a whisper,moaning sound is not the wind but the crying souls of mankind.
    So many doom sayer's had been nay ed,shushed away like wheat chaff,it will never happen to us,so Rome fell what of it,that was in the past and forgotten.
    History teaches many lessons,but only for those wise enough to learn them,those who will not are forever looped in failure,this is what comes of ignoring Elders.
    When an empire has become so intent on spending,on chasing youth and childish whims,when war seems to be the only answer,they have already lost what truly matters.
    Death becomes ho-hum,murder a favorite pastime,nothing new and no excitement,without bloodshed life is boring,the children's games reflect that,and the song is over.
    Self fulfillment is all that matters,ever seeking pleasures,flash and glitter make you special,abusing spouse or child accepted,and the starving homeless offend your senses.
    The war shattered are no longer Hero's,but a shameful reminder that you are hiding,used to further your plans,then pushed away and degraded,spoken of but rarely.
    Finally your only god is gold,your only friend is yourself,you can no longer trust because you know your own mind,it is time to face your maker,and you,what will be your answer?
    And so,you push that button,and why not,what is there worth saving,is not the whole world the same,do not all men want what you covet,to control it all or destroy it?
    Full dark now no time for dreaming,the night brings a false peace,those who know are busy,well taught by those who knew this too would come,and we,we listened!
blessings granny
   



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Until !

Until !
 
 
 
    Simple visions seen in smoke,by the old ones long ago,told of joys,trials,and troubles,and the coming of the Older Brother,from the East,across the waters,bringing back the fire magic.
    What was seen it was known,would not be understood by those who told,for a time yet to come,amazing sights they would behold,the seventh generation of the Peoples children.
    At the fire it was discussed,the councils met to talk it over,every human had a say,many spoke of hopes and dreams,it was known with his return many lessons he would bring.
    Sent away to learn from others,sent across the great salt waters,a White Path brother who knew the truth about Creator,into the west he sailed,into the setting of grandmother suns dark shadow.
    Like Dawn herself and grandmothers rising,return he would in blazing glory,sent to teach the rest of the world,of Creators Circle and plans for humankind to come together.
    One of our own with a great message,sent before the time of ices,a way of peace he was to teach,to those in the lands Creator separated,of Sky and Earth,the Four Winds and Waters.
    So many ages the People waited,watching for the promised traces,hoping Older Brother had done well,and his teaching was accepted in those other places.
    Those who finally came,showed surprise they were expected,welcomed home with love and joy,treated like the kin they were,how could we know they were the wrong ones?
    Filled with hatred and suspicion,those who came,came to conquer,with them they brought poisons,death and destruction to Turtle Island,killing so many of Creators children.
    How deceived and bewildered were those who offered that first welcome,treated like nightmare monsters,told they were abominations,godless,savage and inhuman.
    Great Mystery it was thought sent these troubled ones to teach a lesson,humbled and not understanding,they thought perhaps they had brought these things on themselves.
    Putting pride aside they helped these new ones to survive,hoping to redeem themselves in the eyes of the Creator they had some how offended,maybe this is the lesson?
    Sharing all that they knew,plants,animals,hunting,and medicines,teaching the sacred ways of building,trying to explain the lands belong to Creator who made them.
    And yet death stalked an none was safe from him,fire and lightning from the sticks the others carried brought awe from the ones who saw them,this is then the Older Brother?
    Some believed it to be so,but many of the Elders wondered,a White Path of peace was supposed to be the first message,from where if not Creator came their magic?
    Oh,gentle hearts so deceived,ancestors who tried so hard,it was not your fault you did what was right,it was the evil of man who had forgotten and chose instead the god called greed.
    Today we watch our world unfold,as centuries of crime unsolved,hurt,pain,death,and blood,wash the shores of Turtle Island and Creators brown children.
    Yesterday is dead and gone,beloved ancients you are not blamed,so many things cannot be changed,but the truth of history is NOT one of them,over and over it will be told and our children listen.
    No,we will not forget,no,we will not allow our heritage to be stolen,no,we will not stop the telling,no,beloved old ones your children will not stop trying.
    It does not matter how hard they try to hide it,genocide is a crime and yes,one day they will answer for it,they get angry and tell us to get over,try so hard to make themselves feel better.
    Until the path of peace is followed,until the whole truth is made public,until they take blame for all the sorrow,it is their spirits that will answer!
granny
 


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Two Hawks!

 Two Hawks!
 
 
    Silently they watched her,sweat slick face close to purple,body arced in agony,squatting there within the cave,double layers of rabbit skin beneath her,oils and water waiting.
    One sound could bring disaster,the yonega hunters were near by,death stalked the lands around them,five women all alone a birthing would stop nothing if they were found.
    Her first child and she so young,if she cried out with the pain they were lost,the Elder thought back to the joy of bringing her own child forth,how the village had rejoiced.
    Each new life was precious,adding to the strength of the tribe,assuring the future of their lives,another to hunt,plant,or bring a message from Creator of healing for their kind.
    Something here was wrong,it was taking far too long even for a first child,the old one had no choice she prayed as she oiled her hands,the little one must be turned.
    She did not know how much more the girl could stand,her strength was fading fast and there was too much blood,she whispered go check see if they are close.
    Too the others she signed,hold her tight and lean back,quick and sure her hands were,and yet still the pain was too much blood ran from the girls bitten lip and she passed out.
    Now,while all was still the young one came forth,slipping from his mother to the waiting robes,the old one lifted him and ran,to the back of the cave for his first sound.
    A warrior she wanted to shout,smiling she lifted him high,only a cough and a sigh,even now he was wise,as she looked deep into his midnight eyes.
    The others tended to his mother,giving her the teas they had brought for her,they propped her carefully and handed her the little warrior,gentle hands telling her she had done well.
    In the night the old one slipped out,stepping silent through the forest,close to the village she went to see how her kin fared,her heart lifted with joy when her old eyes saw the happy fires.
    Danger this time had passed,prayers rose from her heart,Owl called to welcome her,from the tree he spoke,go back now and rest soon you can bring them home.
    As grandmother sun rose,two Hawks circled above the cave where the new child lay,here then she though is his name,in answer the feathers came one from each they gave.
    Life was hard but good,in the mountain valley where the village stood,one more day of freedom for a People that were ancient,one more child to continue.
    Morning prayers sang so heart felt,giving thanks for all things,as they looked out across the mist covered greenness,this was the home Creator gave them!
 
granny


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The Winged Ones Cry!

                                                   The Winged Ones Cry!
 
 
    Planet born in fire and fury,rivers of molten rock spewing and flowing,earth quakes rocking, the lands splitting and moving,all of it happens uncaring,unknowing,and the Winged Ones cry.
    The whole world rocks with thunder exploding,lightning stalks and strikes,rain clouds are growing,relief comes in watery waves,to a new born world and the Winged Ones cry.
    Filled with silence and beauty so rare,salt seas are formed as the waters run down,green land is formed and rivers slice lands,as the trees gather poisons and make them clean air,and the Winged Ones cry.
    Life comes to be unexpected,exploring and moving,constantly changing,growing and shrinking,following paths in a slow moving circle,living and dying in salt water graves,and the Winged Ones cry.
    Giants stalk in ravening hunger,eating the plants,and eating each other,and yet an unorderly order is born,in a glory of beauty and colorful flora,and the Winged Ones cry.
    Death from the skies comes pounding down,killing so many without prejudice,and the scene slowly changes and intelligence lives to see a new dawning,and the Winged Ones cry.
    From village to town,then cities are born,life is teeming across all the lands,seeking and finding whatever is needed,trade turns to weapons for the taking of riches,and the Winged Ones cry.
    War is born to finish the tale,the waters and lands are fire and ash filled,as they kill one another with greatest of glee,thinking to claim a world for themselves,and the Winged Ones cry.
    As the last of the young struggles to breathe,the whole world a waste lands unfit for life,finally they have all they were seeking,nothing is left for another's taking,and the Winged Ones cry.
    Mars she is called the Red World of death,the last of the living looks to the skies,at a sweet blue green marble so far away,take care of her brothers is the final plea,and the Winged Ones cry!


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Midnight Prayer!

Midnight Prayer!
 
 
    Grandmother, I whisper to the night wind,how far must I travel to see the stories told,how much do I give of my heart for the little ones to hold?
    Granddaughter,comes a sigh through the cedar branches,as far as your spirit will travel you must go,as much as there is life in the beating of your heart you give them to hold.
    Grandmother,I am afraid that it has been too long,they have forgotten the importance of the little things we hold sacred,they follow the paths of strangers.
    Granddaughter,there is no easy way to walk this path,it is not one for the feint of heart,the truth lies buried deep within their blood,someone need only beat the drum.
    Grandmother,how will I know where to lead the seekers,I do not feel worthy to carry such a precious message,who am I to help them find again the way?
    Granddaughter,you need only to remind them of all they left behind,tell them why we still take our troubles to the waters,why,we do not follow the ways of others.
    Grandmother,how do I make them see beyond today,when so many do without the simple needs of daily life,how do I help them find again their faith in what is right?
    Granddaughter,tell them again of the life before the others came,that they need only seek within to find the peace and truth that once was guide to their ancestors.
    Grandmother,is it truly so important that we stand apart,that we be different in both spirit and heart,that we not just forget and lead the lives of those around us?
    Granddaughter,there is nothing MORE important,you see child when we no longer are no different who then is left to fight,to remember that all living things have a spirit just like ours?
    As I lift my tearful face,in brother moons soft silver light,the winds whisper the messages of the spirits filled with love and guiding strength,we are NOT like the others,and we must never forget why!
 
blessings granny
   
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Little Thoughts!

                                                     Little Thoughts!
 
    Little thoughts caught in time,whispered on winds through my mind,gentle,quiet,ever caring,footsteps of passing from those spirits that once guided my ancestors.
    Whirlwind fast like scattered dust devils,racing across the sands toward the mountains,sunrise golden and yet more precious,these are what make me,me.
    Secrets told to generations,gifts of love shared by grandparents,drifting there ever closer,and like the setting sun spreading beauty in many colors.
    Heart beats a little faster,catch the drum and keep the rhythm,let feet and mind come together,tell the stories kept forever,watch the children as their minds open.
    From the inside the dream is spreading,soft now and far reaching,Mother Earth is waiting in patience as the old ones set the balance,and the prayer song is lifted.
    Into the Waters the troubles are cast,send them off with soft laughter,rise with humble gratefulness,lift your arms and hearts in gladness,today starts in blazing fire.
    How many times where they shared,how many times thrown to the ground,now they waver only slightly,becoming more solid with every new breath?
    Dancing across the desert like heat waves,sailing the harbors on the wings of sea gulls,silver jingles from the aspen,lifted high in the Red woods,scattered in the meadows like wild flowers.
    They could not be held back forever,the lies were told and yet the truth lives,in my heart they cry peace,through the blood of ages soaked into memory.
    Darkness held for only a short while,death stole away on silent feet,what once was will yet be,like an icy mountain stream shocked awake and all will be washed clean.
    Trickling like a stubborn drip,tickling into new life,leaping with the brightness of fire,shadows forced to face the sun,allowed to live and passed along.
    And now,grandmother smiles,waiting there all this time,brought forth like a new born child and gifted to those who wait,these are ours these life ways.
    Creator gave all you see,to those like you and me,must I give quarter where none was given,I think not with these ideas,what is mine was meant for me.
    Yes,little thoughts caught in time,filled my life,filled my mind,human vessel full of life,grandmothers message for another time,I listen and the spirits guide!
 
granny
 
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