I hear a message from the winged ones, from the ancestors.
On sacred ground buried beneath my feet is what remains.
The bodies of the ancestors
Above my head I hear the sound all around in the trees.
They are the choir in the cathedral spires of the great cedars.
Dark messengers, spirit travelers, guardians of the resting place
What message do you bring?
Such an intense noise, the incessant cawing
I can’t even see them
What are they trying to say?
I feel their warning it chills my core.
They carry a vision of dreams
Stories that are not forgotten
It is their mission to carry the blessings under wing and in the throat.
Sacred screech, Tarry feathers, onyx eyes shine a glimmering message
That penetrates beyond time and space
In a flash all the memories and wisdom spread across a ray of light
I see it, I feel it, there are no words, just pure understanding.
This is their space and I am a visitor, this time I am the outsider.
I feel a deep respect for this place of rest.
Home of the ancestors
Guarded by the Ravens

Ancestors Beyond Core Dreams Head Home Memories Message Noise Sacred Sound