Songs Come Down

“Songs come down.” That’s what my Elder said, pointing at the trees

and at the spaces between the branches and at the sky.
“Songs come down.” He said.
They are up there. Those songs.

Sometimes they get in your head like a commercial jingle and won’t let go.
Sometimes they are so clear that you just know you’ll never forget and,

a few hours later, you can’t for the life of you remember what you heard.
Some are songs of the ancestors.
Some are songs of the frogs.
Some are songs of water on stone.
Write them down. Tape them so you will remember.
Sing them. They will help the people.

Listen To The Wind.

by Bear

Listen to the wind, singing to the trees,
Scent of Cedar, on the breeze.

Watch the feathered people, soaring on the wind,
Endless circles, round again.

Listen with your heart, listen with your mind,
Heart/mind together, Sweet Medicine time.