Hope you like what you see...
Some call it Tao, others say Brahman
Goddess, Great Spirit or God
Some call it Allah, other say Great Wonder
Great Mysterious
It’s not the name, it’s the feeling
It’s the rain falling gently on my skin.
It’s not the name, it’s the feeling
When the tree tells her story to the wind.
It’s erotic and pristine
It is shadow and serene
No one can describe it for another.
It turns darkness into light
It’s an eagle in full flight.
It’s inclusive, yet, a very private matter.
It’s not the name...
She holds him in her arms, primal woman.
She nurtures him with wild flower tea.
Steaming spice from her cup as she rises to return
To her home beneath the river of the sea.
How he rouses his power primal man.
How his heart must have the courage to be free.
With his shield in his hand and his hair all ablaze,
Hear him moan as he energizes me.
With her whisper still suspended in the Yang,
And his movement still remembered by the Yin,
Then the colors of our psyches will be unified
And we'll journey till we meet again.
May we never take nature for granted
She woman rising, she woman comes
Singing Goddess alive, enchanted.
Into your bones, into your flesh
Into the rocks and the caves of your body
Where all the old records are kept.
Here the echo of the song.
Remember it still.
Return to the place of the mother.
For she will give you courage.
She will, she will.
She will keep you safe, she will.
For every woman standing here
An old one stands behind her.
Holding her and soothing
Whispering wisdom in her ear.
Telling her of long ago and honoring her fears.
Ah hey ah lee ah ley ah lo, ah-
Lee ah ley ah lo-we-yah, ah-
Hey ah lee ah ley ah lo, ah-
Lee ah ley ah lo.
For every man...
It‘s the way of the hawk.
It’s a sacred way to talk.
In the silence you will hear
All the voices coming closer to your heart.
It’s the way of the hawk
It’s the stillness in her stalk.
In the mist you will see
All your old ones who have come to set you free.
As you soar through the night
With your wings in full flight
You will come upon the lower world
Of never black and white.
Here they come, one by one
>From the southeast direction
See them, feel them, one by one
>From the southeast direction
Gather around and stand behind us.
Making no sound, yet silently guide us.
Ooo - ah- hey
Ooo - ah - hey
I surrender to the raven.
I surrender to the crow.
I surrender to the sisters
And the brothers of the soul.
I surrender to the mountains.
I surrender to the sea.
Let the rivers take me home
To my own humility.
I surrender to the cedar.
I surrender to the oak.
I surrender to the rocks
And the four-legged folk.
I surrender to the Mother/Father
Goddess/God of me.
May the elders guide me home
With their grace and dignity.
--
You might have guessed, I am green.
But I’m not talkin’ ‘bout naive.
I just might let you see
Through all my armor.
And yet, there’s not much left
But this here crone
Who’s lived her dreams
With a dash of glamour
Chorus
Cuz I’m a shag bark hickory woman
Singing cool, dark hickory songs
In a shag-rag squee-bah-do-we-bah free rhythm.
Cuz I’m a shag bark hickory woman
Singing cool, dark hickory songs
In a shag-rag squee-bah-do-we-bah free rhythm
Did you know a Crone can be hot
Withering we’re not!
We just want respect
For who we are and what we say
“When no more trees are going down
We’ll know we’ve turned this mess around
When every creature has a home
I will be grateful every day.”
Freya Hannah, Goddess of the wild moon
Freya Hannah, mistress of the earth womb.
Half wolf, half cat, feather coat, feather hat
Magic magic magic magic....
Freya Hannah sails upon her long ship
With a moonbeam fastened to her left hip.
Half wolf, half cat, feather coat, feather hat
Magic magic magic magic....
She sails on the wings of the night sky
Seeking manifesting questers of the dream time
Half wolf, half cat, feather coat, feather hat.
Magic magic magic magic....
Tis the night when spirits have their freedom
If you are tuned, you can virtually see them
Half wolf, half cat, feather coat, feather hat
Magic magic magic magic....
When Freya Hannah sails through your window...
Listen and you’ll hear each independent voice
Some are fierce, and some are loving, you have choice
To harmonize, and synchronize, and learn who is who
For these are the leaves and the branches of you.
The tribe inside each one of us
Is real, this is not a dream
The “inner landscape” artisans
Paint a mighty colorful scene.
You better think twice before you mess with a painted woman
Heed my advice, she's a mountain lion stirrin’
She will sniff you up and down and if your truth you will not say,
She will turn you around and then she’ll send you on your way.
You better think twice before you mess with a painted woman
Though we are wounded, we are wild, tender women
We will not fight unless we have to, to protect our family
Humans, critters, all of nature, and most certainly, the trees
You better think twice before you mess with a painted woman.
I’m not talkin’ bout a made-up, high-heeled, bony, trophy woman
Chained and tamed, they're victims of an antiquated spell
In a prison called sexism, I remember all to well.
Democrat, republican, all the same game
Matriarchy, patriarchy, more of the same
The warrior makes her way beyond duality
She’s sensitive, and tough, she is account-ability.
You better think twice...
I’m asking, do you chant?
Do you move that body?
Or stay present when you
Hear these magic words?
Once upon a time, long ago, just last week
In a land of lofty ladies and lords.
For the song and the dance and the stories and the stillness
Are as old as the peoples of the earth.
Their right under our noses, a sea of wild roses
Blooming free and forever giving birth.
Go deeply sister, dive into your soul.
Learn the difference between the mother and the crone.
The critic and the censor, the maiden and the warrior.
Go deeply sister for in your heart are words
That dwell in the hearts of every one of us.
Let them ring out from your lips and the lips of every woman.
I know myself I am worthy.
I’m the keeper of the mystery.
I know myself I am mother.
I am maiden, I am crone.
I know myself as the voice of creation.
I know myself.
How can we serve so that one more tree -- stands.
How can we serve so that one more wolf -- sings.
How can we serve so that one more hawk --flies.
One more mother feeds her babe from her breast
While the rest of us look on without shame.
As we dance, to the drumming
Find ourselves humming songs
We never thought we knew.
Give, back(!) to the midwives
The birth, of the new lives.
Teach our fathers to catch babies too