salmon tree feeding

my body will feed you
my body tired and shredded
will help you live
to tell the story of how
my life is your life
and you will grow so
tall and long in time

my body
my body will feed you
my short life
in this water
will be within you
and my children
will remember
where to come back
to find you

i promise all this
but i cannot find you anymore
it is now lost to me

elements

elements
Elements of despair
here and there
I step out to see
the sun
and must walk a ways

I try not to stray
too much
because there is such
Joy if I can
Stop
In that Perfect
Spot



Nomad
Is the nomad a traveler?
one that knows the land
the ground
that the bird sees
from so many points

of view
the scent of spring
the raw earth
brings the new place
the time to move
to the summer

Space

Someone to whom the wind
speaks and tells
Asks
but moves on without
an answer

Is this traveling
or being in the same
Place?



Recipe for a new world
Take 4 equal parts from the earth, the sky, the air & the water
Mix that together until a beautiful or a nasty sound comes out
Or a combination of the two

With eyes closed, continue stirring for a minimum of 10 minutes but do not stop until you hear that you are being lied to from every corner of our world

Open your eyes and see what you see

Be sure to take what you've made
Wherever you go.

For Madeline

Lift your head
Little one
Lift your head

See your beauty
And your strength

The thoughts of those you love, loved
Layered upon you
Were not for you
They were for them
They didn't know how to
Behave differently
In the end they saw
Who you are

Perhaps

Believe

And they still love you still

If you could show yourself
What you have shown me
You could not doubt yourself
Not for one moment

expected

What's expected
is diverted
In one last gasp
last grope
last grasp
of the expected

I allowed myself to see
what could lie before me

Truly
nothing arrived
as I put forth
tried to will into being

I fell
I broke
was alone
tried to dream two horses
towards my path
but they refused
not convinced
that I
could lead
them

Fences

So
What do I have to say about fences
There's not much of them in the north
Protecting small gardens more interested in surviving the frost
Than a lack of liberty

So
There's lots in the prairies the plains
Some geographical mostly wire
Four rows smooth if it's kind barbed to draw blood from interloapers
Three and half feet high
Low enough to step over unless it's got a current
Deer and antelope simply leap over it
Not a barrier at all
Horses can't jump it much
Buffalo can't jump it at all
I'll bet they could trample it
In their millions
Crushed into rusted
Twisted piles
Occasionally snaring an unsuspecting leg or hoof



Please
People
Dance that dance
That brings
Them back from the Ghostlands
So I can ride
Un hindered
Un encumbered

Like I do in my dreams

Decisions decisions

I can't decide
Will I always love the wind … Or not
I can't decide
Would I rather be a wolf than a human … Or not
I can't decide
Would I rather be a Puma than a wolf … Or not
I can't decide
Would I rather be a Raven than a Puma … Or not
I can't decide
Would I rather be an old White Pine than a Raven … Or not
I can't decide
Would I rather be a great big Rock than an old White Pine … Or not
I can't decide
Would I rather be a River than a great big Rock … Or not
I can't decide
Would I rather be a wild Salmon than a River … Or not
I can't decide
Would I rather be an Eagle than a wild Salmon … Or not

If I was the Eagle I would eat
the Salmon that lives in the River
that erodes the great big Rock where
the Old White Pine lives that
the Raven roosts on
that the Puma up and down climbs
that the Wolf chases her kill from
that makes the human dream
of being the Raven

I can't decide
Does the land care at all … Or not

When I am gone

My spirit
keeps me light on the earth
And when I am gone
my body
heavy with matter
Will soak the ground

When the earth takes
the ooze of my body
I will dance
with the light that sparkles
on the water
I will feel the sound
of the wind
in the pines
I will rest in the down
of the raven that
circled me this morning
I will taste
the scents
of my home
in every part of
my self
I will stick to the green
pine
cone
that drops to the ground helped
by the squirrel
I will be tossed
rolling past the
deer fucking and pulled
inside the doe's womb
I will be born running and challenge the wind to a
great race
And my hoofs will thunder across the valley
and be a testament to
my spirit
my place
On this earth

I cannot be stopped.

Tetanus

I fell
I busted my shoulder
They gave me a tetanus shot
At the hospital

I couldn't remember when my last one was

Maybe
If I hadn't fallen
I would have stepped
Onto
A rusty nail
With no tetanus
Shot

we walked forever to find some water

I hold in my hand an egg of sand
we walked forever to find some water

the water in the river had slowed to a shiver
the water I held in my hand was this egg of sand

The sun released has taken all the water
and all that is left is in this egg of sand
that I hold in my hand that I give to you
so that you might stand so that you might remember

in the transitions

::::My name is skuld :::: she who is becoming :::: I live in the transitions between animal & human & animal between meadow & forest between ground & sky between female & male between thought & movement between joy & anguish between :::: I exist to show progress endless craving for more for destruction :::: All will come to its end must :::: It all does not matter end choice is one for the whole not the one the choice is walk the path to the end when it may come with honour & compassion for all for the earth the ground especially for the tinniest to the most massive all choice includes all :::: This is how it is – this is how it may be::::
::::I was born in mists in the myths out of the animal I oozed not wanting not seeing my language was the language of all the living but the people changed they started to think less of themselves they thought that they were different and i was dragged with their thoughts unwilling i believed that it could not be that i was to go but so it was :::: My new form was brought to the fore i lived i killed i ate i fought how much i fought and killed i cannot say none could defeat me all feared me and bowed before me i killed with clear eyes i fought the people :::: The deer i killed i killed i ate the deer i thanked and cried for the deer :::: Over the people who killed as they own i cared not of their ending::::

For many millennia i lived this way between the two but still loyal to my true self my true past we could all soar an fiach dubh we were in the old language the raven the wolf was our friend :::: Now i am lost i cannot find the way i see as the people see and i am ashamed and yet i still remember the way distant though it is :::: I left the old land the old language that i had come to know to love i left on the final days when i could remember to be an fiach dubh we were in the old language the raven the wolf was our friend :::: And to the new land i found a home for a time i could be who i am but that land too succumbed to the ways and now i am here on the ground and for so long have been so :::: As the people go so must i :::: No more::::no more::::no more::::

the falling wall::autumn::mid journey

::::my name is skuld::::i, anaíl, an caonach agus uisce::travelling now for many days::in the far seeing, a great high square built thing by the people who kill as they own::for four days we journey'd towards this great thing::coming to it::square and straight lines towering high above us, across the whole of the lush valley below us::in the centre a great jagged gap::tumbles of tumbles of what was once square::now sharp edged waiting for the rain to take it back to the sea to one day becoming the home of a snail to one day lifting to the top of young mountains looking onec again from up high::now strong chunked heavy::remembering the great water held back with such confidence and faith::water easing it's paitient self into cracks::freezing::thawing::freezing::expanding ::contracting::lifting::moving::just as we witness in the mountains that we call our home::we saw how the water trickled through to the other side of the great dam::long green mossy strips::dripping tricleing to the tinkling river stream below::we could see where one day the seeping water became a torrent and within the time we would have taken to drink our own fill the world itself became unhinged::the great water held back for so many long time::waiting::came crashing:the great reservoir created by the people who kill as they own now a great river remembering its free time and revelling in it::bouncing crashing over the tumbled rubble::joyful to meet again the smooth stone not taken away remembered further down the valley::the banks of the great lake now green and rich from dumping upriver earth::green and rich and eager to once again move down to the sea::we stayed the four of us for many days at this place listening to the memories in the air and the water and the earth::there was good food for us to eat::::

on the train

::::yesterday yesterday::::leaving the train::::standing in the aisle i met eyes with a woman::::elder::::beautiful::::bigspirit::::she said::::it looks like you are on a great adventure::::i am::::i said::::

the helper the teacher the guide

::::what is the horse to the skuld project??::::the horse is the helper the teacher the guide::::the point where the transition between the domestic and the wild exists::::the one that knows both worlds::::the one that may show may help may guide to where the balance of the wild can pull the destruction of the domestic to a new beginning a new view a new sight a new vision. because as we all know, it's not human that is the fullest realised form::::right?

my name is an mór riogain::::today talking speaking about the magical birds and their long seasonal travels::::lamenting the tragic loss in our time of the sacred and the magic of so much::::this evening i watched hundreds of fireflies in the dark dark cloud covered sky dark night::::a moose is in the marshy pond just down from where i am dwelling::::i am immersed in the magic of life and i am full full where no food can fill::::joy is all that is needed joy and magic and sacredness for wholeness::::joy lives in the now in the diversity of nature to think otherwise is your end my end our end::::it's time::::

wild foods

ongoing adventures in learning about wild foods: yum ... dandelion flowers in full bloom. dip them in a some batter (flour, egg, water, salt) and cook in a pan with some oil in the bottom . i used olive oil. cook flower side down first until brown and then flip them over for a bit. drain on paper and then eat 'em up. a little plum sauce is nice with them. good food NOT nasty weed!

!!Excititng New Skuld Project Evolutions!!

the skuld project has evolved into a long musical and storytelling tour on horseback. Preparations are happening now with a planned 6-8 week tour through rural new brunswick in the late summer of 2008 and an extended tour travelling from east to west in the spring of 2009. please go to www.fiain.com/skuld.html for full details.

nomadisism being nomad. i've been thinking of people that are considered to be traditionally nomadic. what does being nomadic mean anyway? does it mean someone who travels from place to place? un settled, un rooted, un trusted. is that what it is? i wonder who is the nomad anyway? is a family that travels seasonally according to tradition from a summer place to a winter place nomadic? i wonder. would you not be simply moving from your backyard to your front yard in out industrial western thought? one place is part of the other place connected together aware of the ground. i wonder, would not the person who drives 100kms/day to and from a job in a building in a city never aware of the earth that they travel on never aware of the food that goes in their mouth be a .... be a ... be a ... well, what is THAT anyway?? i guess that being a nomad is to be in one place in one thought in one awareness on one earth in one sky.

my name is skuld:::: searching i have been searching for so many years so many years for a place a time a people a land a forest a mountain a water a past a future a sound a murmur a speak from the trees the birds the rivers the wind :::: for so many years i have searched and now i am beginning to see that the search must stop the place must be one :::: i wonder where is that place::::and i am afraid that i am back to the beginning::::

millions of dollars for a scrubber solution to the carbon question. yours to get. from a guy that owns an airline. right. i am saddened saddend saddend. we have a rare opportunity to look at ourselves our world dare i say the gift of it all to change our way of interacting with the world the nature that we are children of we do not we do not step up more of the same isn't good better best it will kill us and the rest of our kin of plant animal stone the shame is much to bear

i just had the most most beautiful walk in the deep snow with the trees all covered so that i could see their living like great sentinels in the silence of winter i walked to the top of the hill and watched the full moon and then was drawn into the unpathed woods and my life was transformed and all i could see was beauty so utterly pure and simple and then i walked to the pond and sat under the tree that i often eat under and sat protected by it's branches heavy with snow and looked...