Song for the Journey

Song for the Journey by Josie Tamarin taken from The Way of the Shaman by Michael Harner

"The eagle soars into turquoise and indigo
catching gold on white tipped feathers in cadence of wind and stillnesses
singing and swooping with currents and storms alone, the far-seer, sky dancer.
Sun fire sips down to serpentine underworld
and eagle descends on rose and mauve and amber light to an eyrie for night's long dream;
head curved under wings eagle encircled in sleep
reflecting early kinship with those scaled and coiled beings who swallow the sun in their tangled trap
while the lost world waits in darkness and dream,
and in dreamworlds gods and goddesses beat the pulse of prayer
dancing near smaller fires drumming toward greater light
creating song from cries of loss
fanning the glowing ember of the heart praising colour;
green of growth, gold of maize soft rich browns of deer and earth
rainbow prisms of mist and sun and riotous spring anemonies
tangerine and sienna of autumn's burnt lemon death after summer's blue heat
and the white quiet in the centre of winter's stillness;
and as hope begins to flicker in the endless dark tunnel of night
eagle dreams stir and in sleep awaken shadow-winged predator spirits
who dive for us all into alien elements fathomless seas of cobalt and black
dive through the surface along watery crescents of moon's mirrored image downward liquid spiral journey
and now is our need for eagle's sharp vision;
glimpse of turbulence below dark shapes massing and twisting
in volcanic force the sun is caught by serpents jealous and frenzied in battle surrounding the light;
beak and talons curve wings pull against the tidal vortex
moving with but not surrendering to that power and they strike.
For an endless moment hearts stop in their sleep drums do not beat
as feathers, coils, silver fangs and claws embrace in the death of our dreams;
and in that moment the sun is freed and begins to float luminous
toward that thin membrane where sea and sky meet leaving an image of frozen fury far below
and finally, bursting through with the fragile sound of silence and colour
dawn is borne up on the wings of light.
Life stirs light stirs us all and an eagle soars toward the sun on the sighs of our awakening"

I should very much like to fly with that eagle.