Poetry

i hold a flower in my heart
Soft petals and aroma
drift around me
a transparent desire
radiates outward
while inside a fire builds
for the dreams
that are true
the ones i know I'll catch
tonight.

Tonight I shall bring
them all
together
in a song of
remembrance...

soft petal of love
inside my joy
to open in the sun
of my dreamings

The angels of wind
angels of water
trickle into my being
with winged prayers
and gurgling brooks
of light.

So now let the dreams begin
I shall bring my butterfly
dream net,
to catch them with
to bring them to morning light
with all clarity and wisdoms
intact

intact as the petals of my
budding soul....

wherever you are I want to fill you

I am here
to fill that space in you
with you
reflect dreams
the soul of God
the warm dark
of a heart beating
a calling to song
sparking bright light
off the river
guitar strings
pluck the longing
I feel for music
to fill me.

If you dream me
I will be the one
laughing at light
If you remember me
Remember I don't keep time
But I do echo the ravens,
Robins and wolves
I am tingling

with the thought
of sharing all of this
with you. Ideas.

Old laughing lady
young with heart song
leaking out her eyes-
I am an orchestra of love,
and yes,
Everything is alright.

My Land of Source

I move through my land
In the mind of my source
endures with passion
Inside a 
Remarkable sight
Wisdom, trails and tracks
Spiral trees and winding
Rivers....  raven song
Through the dreams of me
A dream of lines of winged angels
beings of light singing me
awake to the tune of brethren
To the song of light
The vibration of hope
Extreme pleasure
Relaxing of resistance
Jumping in now
I move inside the the house of my dreams
Within the stream of my feeling good mind
Expansion............................

Some Tracks Through the Song of Me

Or

The Myth Of Night

It is dark

The snow lies just beyond my window

All over me.

Beyond the sill, 

There are stars.

I gather in

This stream of my night

Before the thin veil

Fades to light,

Or a dream of spring and birds and love.

First the cold must have its say....

For now, it is dark.

The run has had to wait

A song of me is skipping

A yard is full

Of ready sing song dogs

And a sled waits too-

Where is snow, aurora high

What does it waits for now?

The cold is ready to

Wrap around me,

I like it.

Dreamful thoughts float

No Rhyme or reason

Wait with paws and tails

With paws and tails?

Am I me, or the falling star outside

Sky high?

Whose neighborhood is this?

The fox's across the field,

Or wolf from up the ridge

I too, have four paws, or four dreams

To live and run by

Some tracks through the song of me

That echo in the forest near and far

Do follow.

Stephanie Little Wolf

GodSong

I have heard the hum hum of the sun rise,
Seen pyramids as I rounded the bend at ocean’s side.
A double take reveals only the cliffs
And the beat waves on the shore
Of my longing.
Not a big bang, but an agony of song
A sacred symphony of creation
Not a myth, but for real
For now and always
Revealed in wind
The howlings of the north
In  all times, in all places.
My people say the sound of creation
Is complete in the place of our sacred emergence.
To emerge
Into the place of snow and trails,
To be present for a holy moment
With clean spruce scent and birch
Dogs pulling me forward into the now
I  hear and know
The sacred run is a song,
A dog song
A human song
From the tones of
Our heart songs
Beating together
As the sound of life,
A GodSong.

Practicing Alaska

                 

The smallest part of My Alaska

As seen from any bluff

So wide open and hidden

Is the universe of my heart.

The winding, silty Tanana is my world.

A million spruce trees line the avenues

Of my thought,

Calls from sled dogs and ravens penetrate 

My deepest dreams.

In summer I dream of winter’s

Cold dry days, clear and blue.

In winter, dreams of a warm silky  

Breeze, lift the hair off my shoulders-

And fill me with the full scent

Of flowers from my garden.

I must run with the dogs to understand

Why I am alive,

I must plunge my net into

The boiling Copper

To know the Salmon are there,

Pink and silver bodies coursing

Through the waters and my veins.

I meet my life with an

Ancient fish, who twists and turns

Inside my net, pulls me towards rushing waters

And comes to finally rest,

In the crook of my arms.

With her belly full of eggs

She is the Queen of these

Roiling waters.

I spread my gaze across prairies of tundra-

The directions of my heart greet me here.

A whopping whale of a mountain to my west

Bright swath of wild green aurora to north,

These windy cold valleys to south

Are the great grasslands of my soul.

Always to the east is just a tease

Of sunrise that becomes greater or less

All the time.

I am just a spot in the white distance,

I could be a single black spruce .

I could be a black raven breaking into my cache-

Or a black sled dog loose and on the prowl,

Soon to be eaten by a black wolf.

But I am a black haired woman

Running dogs through white powder

Smoking fish, canning tomatoes-

Picking berries turns my fingers blue.

This is my life and mind.