Whispers in the Flames!
by Wredgranny
Smiling softly as I build the fire, remembering the face and voice of my grandmother, bowl of Cedar burning, the smoke cleansing my spirit.
Gentle memories of a woman whose strength was as great as mighty Oak, thinking of the Creator she taught me to honor with every breath.
Stories rise within my mind, so very many, so old and brave, a white path chosen but such a great and fierce warrior was this woman that I love.
Hair black as the darkest night, black eyes shining as if filled with stars, face deeply marked with grief and worry, yet serene when she looked at me.
So precious are the memories, every word she spoke written on my heart, this great woman with arms strong enough to encircle the whole world.
Speak kindly she taught me, think well before you allow the words to live, once spoken they will never die, and at times they hurt you far worse than an enemy's curses.
What you do, say, or think lives within your spirit, it is how the world will see you, good or bad it is your choice, and if you let hate rule you, you are lost to yourself.
Take the time, granddaughter, to pray about it, with the temper you inherit, it is important that you remember to take a little longer.
She would laugh softly, and say to me, once I too walked in your shoes, filled with passion that exploded before wisdom could control it.
Guard your tongue child of my heart, build a fire and feed your anger to it, light the Cedar and cleanse your spirit, then take it to the water.
Walk a while among the trees and look at every flower, count the many blessings gifted in your life, mourn deeply your losses, and love freely those whose paths you cross.
Gather the power gifted by your Mother Earth, know what is useful, and throw away the hurts, learn from every lesson, and allow the spirits to be your guides.
How empty was my life when she crossed, until I lit the fire and saw her smile, how filled with joy was my spirit when her wisdom was remembered.
Still today I battle the temper she so teased me for, still today I struggle to think wisely before I speak, and then I hear her whispered laughter in the fires depths.
Every prayer by her is guided, every blessing counted, each time I go to water with me I carry her name, with every breath I thank Creator for the gifting of her love and wisdom, and the power of the sacred flames!
volume 12(8)
April 15, 2008
This poem is copyright © 2007,
Wredgranny, all rights reserved.
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