When the Sun went down

 When The Sun Went Down

A lake of mirrors reflects an alchemical nature of silent ink.

Always watching, with the eyes of the scorpion, the zodiac’s watchers.

Nearby, the medicine wheel turns the snake dance, coiling wisdom,

With a Marco Polo mind that seeks the unknown path.

The Ayahuasca Elders, stone warriors of the Buffalo brigade.

Now summon the drums, ancient voices in the rhythm of the mirrors

Lake. Echoes of those who once danced with wolves.

Time resets lightly on the lake and lingers on the mountaintop.

Where the lake holds whispers of the ancestors' tales.

Nature calls through the spirit of the land.

Their openness to the lake carries on, on the wings of the eagle.

Forest shadows govern the night, with forgotten truth.

This is the wisdom of our elders: keepers of the chant, the brave ones.

Underneath the sacred ceremony of stars.

Tales of a mirror lake that reflects the eternal sky.

Rhythms born of alchemy, among the gathering nations;

In harmonious prayer.

Moonlight rituals reveal our place, a narrow path.

Into realms of hidden meaning, caves etched with forgotten

Knowledge that’s guarded by the ancestral heart of the tribe.

The night’s guardians, Indigenous healers, still hold the darn

Essence, around the lake, where the sun went down;

Caring for the native soul throughout generations.

Guides of the winds' silence, that the mirror lake knows so well.

Voices of the lonely Buffalo that flows across our silent land.

Voices from the past: 

Awakening the tribal heart.

With deep and sacred respect.

We honor the spirit of our ancestors.