the cemetery of the ancient ones

I have been there often
in a place of velvet brilliance
white light, unknown in this world
warming beams, comforting rays
it is the white bonfire of the ancient ones
but when approaching closer
it is a rainbow of every possible hue
their welcoming beacon
seen from one generation to the next
for those desiring an encounter
for those visiting in uncertain quest
for those seeking answers
to questions only the ancient ones
can draw from your heart
                   °-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°
the drummer taps softly
an improvised rhythm
with no meter, sporadic regularity
intensity is the only importance
a chanting begins
my voice, regular and confident
others join us, more timidly
or with simple boldness
for the drummer sings
of knowledge and experience
as I sing of desire
as others sing of love, of peace
silent songs of the heart
boisterous odes of happiness
rarely needing real words
sometimes imaginary or improvisational
but always heartfelt
melodies casually invented
soaring vocalizations
to push us along this path of music
coming closer to the many directions
where we will find
the magic spell
of the white light
                   °-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°
pulsing, it comes and goes
with our music
like the round-the-horizon sweep
of a lighthouse at sea
at intervals different for each of us
the sun-warmed stones where we linger
on our pilgrimage to our ancestors' home
this place of white light
we visit only where they desire our presence
it is we who quest
but they who show us the path
leading to our answers
                   °-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°
ten voices sing to the heavens
of past present and future
praise to be cherished
angelic song rising to the wind
delicate messenger
to those who breathe no longer
but whose lives are vivid in our memories...
the power of our voices
inspires the wolves, howling in harmony
the songbirds, in their airborne trilling
the sun to part the clouds
the rain to fall where the ground is dry
songs of life, past present and future
melodies remembered from the earth itself
our lives are constructed from the hearts
of the ancient ones...
                   °-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°
frantic drumbeat
vibrating with the trees
trembling with the mountain rocks
the clamoring waves of the distant ocean
splash salt on distant heather colored cliffs
yet in this tumultuous resounding
the horses come to visit
their eyes of wisdom follow the music
they too have learned the secrets
found where the light is
                   °-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°
the truth is revealed
to the purest seekers
among our youth
         there is no death
         there is no finality
         no heaven nor any other place
         for all living creature
         has learned from its life
         and has messages for those
         who would listen...
sometimes, in this place of white light,
there is peace
but when the younger generations
seek the counsel of the old
it cannot come, like comforting sleep
until the quest is awakened
the ancient ones' magic colored bonfire
warms all visiting newcomers
those, still fearing this novelty
who are not yet destined
to become the most recent members...
                   °-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°
after a brief visit with the ancient ones
strolling slowing in their cemetery
I discover that it is my soul which speaks
from my present life
to the lives of all of my ancestors
with drums and chant
my unquiet heart seeks rest
so that when I am finally called to the light
I too may accept my place in its whiteness
as counselor and teacher
for the generations which will follow my path
for those who will believe in my truths...
it is the soul which speaks
that of the wisest coming before us
speaking gently to he who still doubts
he who still refuses to believe
he who knows not how to believe
in love or life
in forgiving or forgetting
of he who staggers along an unlit path
of the heavy incertitude
of the ruin of beautiful memories
                   °-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°
the place of white light
is enchanted by our singing
the drumbeat calmer
our melodies tangible with sweet words
homage to the future and past
we linger on another stone
of the ancient one's cemetery
asking for peace
they welcome us with tales of another time
which have been hinted to us
through our grandparents' lore
they welcome us kindly with bold secrets
we somehow have always understood
deep in our most secret gardens
but unwilling to accept...
these revelations
make our hearts burst, abundant with love
and kindhearted compassion
that we return from our path
towards the ancient one's wisdom
awakened to the smallest details
of our surroundings
a red stone mottled with moss,
a purple wildflower in a sea of gray-green grass
a blue beetle drinking from a muddy puddle
every detail more beautiful than the sky
on the dusk-colored horizon
                   °-°-°-°-°-°-°-°-°
at the place of white light
life is eternal
our appearance may change
but each of us detains generations
of secrets, of knowledge, of loving emotion
which can never fade into ignorance
it will be constantly renewed
from the heart of one deceased man
to that of another, still living
in ultimate search of the peace
offered by the white light
found in the ancient one's cemetery
of beautiful rocks
planted here and there in love
by the eternity in each of us one
for every one of our wisest parents
generations removed from us
but always alive in our hearts




                   the cemetery of the ancient ones
                   13 april, 2006