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Bard

Bard

Devotion of self-sacrifice,

And the humble artist's

fervent beauty,

Tumble upon the canvas.

Like the Shaman's Spirit Wheel

Of eternal fire and ice,

Speaks of the forming of the world,

The creator's ardent hands

Shape wet clay

On the potter's wheel,

This natural simplicity

Shapes this poet's pen

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Comments

A bard is considered to be a poet.....a poet is an artist who use's word's to create their paintings through the use of words and their canvas is paper, or now a days, a computer. A Sharman is a type of healer who brings balance through their spirituality to both a person's spiritual side as well as physical and in doing so, aids healing whatever issues a person is dealing with....I think I've got that right. And, once a person regains this balance they're able to continue to 'mold' they're artistic work, like someone using a potter's wheel, and create a lovely piece. I think you've done that here. You've managed to describe a poet in a unique and well written way. You take the reader from beginning to end through your use of images to express how this poem was conceived. And give other's of us a possible idea of how we do the same. I like the way you've structured this piece as it flows quite well, and helps for it to be an easy read.
Long story short, I like your poem!

thank you so much for taking the time to piece the construct of this poem together :) you've done well in doing so! you read my work very well!

*hugs, Cat

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author comment

When I read someone's work, I want them to know I've done my best to get a take on what they're saying. I find whatever you write to get my brain motivated to think.....and that's a good thing! I'd like to learn more about Sharman's and their ability to heal, so thank you for sparking that interest!

ox,
val

dear Val,

I'm glad to have opened a new can of worms for you, lol!

*hugs, Cat

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author comment

why have you never read me

smiles
and similes
I'd love to see coming from the valley
Valenery

we used to dig holes for poles..over near georgian bay in the wetlands
able to hold up the backhoes we found beautiful red clay eight feet or
less down....blue clay....grey clay...brought home buckets of it
but was too busy with all the homes we owned...collecting rent
cleaning for new tenants and my job which started at six and went
till ten thirty at night then..to be making anything with it....
shamans.
tricksters.not all were all healers
they were feared
they could call up bad medicine too
some of them...

why its rather a shaded and complex
thing in its approach
from what \i found inreality...
but....the trained ones knew plants
the old works as \i shall call it
steering from spells and what not
although that is a part of it

artists do create though...

and for that we are thankful
for works such as these
thank \u candlewitch

mr wolf

dear Mr. Wolf,

you are full of interesting information! thanks for sharing it with me :)

*hugs, Cat

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author comment

never heard of it...but i went barefoot when i was on the rez....living in old houses that people were afraid of...tenants were strict....they let people drink..ex military man....i repainted...cut the brush
mowed the lawn..cleaned the whole place up...a beautiful little house....he let me live there...
somehow he sensed i had good power..magic..it was the last house owned or allowed owned
by a private individual so in essence...it was like switzerland....had well with a spring river seven
feet..i cleaned it out that summer....they said that the owner.ex military would lower a basket.metal with beer bottles...he had a military tent set up in the maples right outside the house..
the concrete blocks were still there..residence people said it was on a platform made of railroad
ties and planks....inside were tables....he had a few kids..wife....grandaughter owns it now..on google maps the google car came in from the \north on highway five something something to such and such road..The house is still standing....single story two rooms...kitchen and living room...cosy..they tore down all others of this model..I re did the screens on the windows..
built kitchen cupboards made of shelves and birch trees..had a basin for a sink .bowl cut
from two ply.painted of course...a living room table made from scrap lumber..green painted...red checked oil cloth..we made curtians for the windows...had a coat hook from tree limbs at the
door...couches.chair..we lived on a matress on the floor..cooked on a pump up stove..coleman
from the fifties..i just retrofitted it with new old gaskets.. had a car then..i would sit in the car
and catch what i could from michigan fm late nite radio..just like my mother did when she was
a teen...with child...me....the circle complete.....glad i went home..but we lived with no hydro
coal oil lamps candles..i had a cooking fire i would lite up in the morning for breakfest cooking
to save fuel...put a tea pail on...the elders mobile..crazy would walk....Irvin...had ten reserve
dogs follow him about..he would knock on our overhang porch door at daylight ..andsay..daylite in the swamp..no romanticsm..he was the devil......but he brought me intel daily......and his grandchildren we babysat as the parents worked for the local politicburo..so we made kraft
dinner and sandwiches....kept the kids entertained with my womens children...
Near the fall i cut firewood with a handsaw dragging the deadwood from way behind..
tied a rope and dragged it out.......we knew we couldnt survive winter.......they gave us a
woodstove....which we connected to chimney from previous allowed tenant..i went back
years ago and they even borrowed that..stole the chimney...who cares.....
when I was there....they were afraid more then i know..mother included

maybe why she gave me away for ado-ption
BEARWALKER......oh yes.....
well the bearwalker is a bad medicine man
at night they sleep naked and shape shift and fly...swim
move about the world....re enlivening dead spirits
and the like...kind of a concerige to the ouija board
they asked me once..and i was kind of like
relieved and honoured cause it shed more light
on my origins...if I had it not in me they would
not have asked right........
no....not bearwalking....
but its real...

apparently i piled my firewood where the previous
owner in sixties piled his firewood...my mother
when she was alive was historically accurate
but i got the eye......

but.....thats the story
bearwalkers are real
shamans..I know the knew agers
like hippies think its all grand
but.....check em out....
not all are so wonderful..
pedigree man....
like gypsies selling u love
spells...

thanku

thank you for taking the time to fill me in! I'll look into it. in my time I have astral projected myself. once across 200 hundred miles. and the person I went to visit told me that he dreamed I was at his house the night before!

*hugs, Cat

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author comment

I believe it!
there is much beyond the beyond
as we know it!

Thank U! C

W..

you are wise beyond your years and there is much soul shining in your beautiful eyes!

*hugs, Cat

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author comment

I have been beyond the beyond

there is nothing
beyond

this beyond

ll is here
where both you and I belong
nothing there lies
beyond

power up like a UH 1 Iroquois
fly over the treetop level
fall asleep to vintage stones
ccr....
Going up around the bend..wooo!

thanks Cat...we are kindred souls
like a youthful journeyer said to me
ha..havent used that word in ages...
dust off my travelling hat!

thank U

w

if you sleep in your birthday suit, it will certainly make "lift-off" lighter, lol! travel far and often, but just come back again!

*hugs, Cat

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author comment

to read your creativity
Cats

I only imagine
one day I will

but time now stands still
heaven knows now
where be I will
soonly

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