"JOURNALS OF A STONEHUNTER"--My poem about society's evolution of consciousness

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: Hey Robin, Jeff and everyone else here:).. : -This is a poem that I have been working on and finally finished tonight..It is about the evolution of consciousness and understanding in society..Please tell me what you think about it..How you interpret it...I greatly value your opinions...--Thanks--y/f : Iyanna : ---JOURNALS OF A STONEHUNTER------ : : Journals of a stone hunter : On quiet oasis frontier : Tribal stories revived in a slow moment performance : Cast shadow water over our ridge : Spiritual virtues calling to us; : Opening past portals : avoiding truth : Awaits a guarded warriour : whose tour is written in his tear : Seen in a dullen spear : Return of a hero : Half witted reliance as night summons us into its depthness of perception : Our so ever forgotten presence denied : Time to move on : Through dimensions of cave labyrinth : Filing through mazes of sign felt regardness : To open pit courage : Flickering amongst worn furs : and drawn up into protective limiations; : True understanding has drawn no boundries or borders : Free horse children : Galloping beyond a sun region : Playing simple minded games with shadowed friends : Hidden in the mountains : Where real vision is a nightmare escapade : Boarded gardens flock uncertain curiousity : Archaeology a shell not yet found to hear : As exploration reveals portals to uncovered explanations : Regained now are an ancient people : Ruins of a lost civilization : Lost hostages of a risen horizon : Sailing mistless into undocked harbors : To be displayed on unclear shelves : Broken tides of concentration containing mystical beliefs : Sealed within lies : Remains of a medicine man : Taken apart : And placed besiden : Spoken sorrow of his fallen vengence : Stealthful prowlness in a cracked arrowhead : Splintered bow cat-string : Feel its sharpness throughout time : Forgive the gravediggers who opened centurial protection from an unable society : That will take away nature's creation to retire with plastic sculpturation : We are often educated in the traumatic world of ignorance : Disrespect is the dissection of a dreamworld trance : We are only in the early breezes of flight and understanding : We are falling like broken wings in empty rain : Grasping for a painted sea of curiousity to replace the destruion of a dying hour : Reaching for contemplation and explanation as new tribals are formed : : Waking up to the evolution of consciousness : : Reflections now revealed in an unseen river : Torches lit for night drawings : Windpipe mountainers create the harmonies sought to hear : Poetic performers read for a future : Known uncertainity : As new doors are locked from the inside and experienced by outdoor messengers : Traveling light to keep the day : Entering within : Nature is more visible to the invisible : Experience life in a running pastfield : Crying silent madness from within : Releasing us into the demensional garden : : To begain again is to find what we once had to leave : : ----Iyanna Xanthalia Wolfspire

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