Do you hear it? Fruits groan on the trees before they fall. There is a great song of it now and as the fruits fall onto the Mother they make a beating like a great drum. I listen and want to remember what it is not to be hungry in the depth of the winter snows. Grandmother thank you for feeding us so full.

Grandfather spoke close today. Locust song of death reminds us to gather what we can now. There are languages not spoken here, words that are incongruous in the morning glory. If the sun stays in the sky and the water in the seas, then there is the promise that I will someday understand. One thing is clear: Forgiveness must begin now. And in earnest.

the world is acting "as if" and all the time
behind the veils. what is growing will be aborted before it comes
to fruition or to birthing.

All waiting for.............what, exactly?

The world is acting "as if" and I can hear the far away Rattle of the GhostDancers.

Who is to say if "as if" is as it is and always has been?

I will ask the Rattle Dancers. I will ask Grandfather. I hear him now across the veils and he says "wait". And he can see better than I.