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to my father and my friend |
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| Come that I may understand how much that I don't know. Send the wisdom of the wind to blow into my soul. I have guessed and sought the truth and held against my fear, embracing all that I was shown through every bleary tear. Now returned onto the rim, the canyon down below, I seek to see what still remains ~ How much that I don't know. Stand me tall. Such ancient strength, shall tear me down as well. I am but a receptacle before the lifting gale ~ Wah-chee toh weh, the cedars sing Wah-chee toh weh, the mountains wail Wah-chee toh weh, the rivers roll Wah-chee toh weh, the spirit sails My moment
on the mountain, I free the feather from my hair, How much that I don't know.... All people are my people, |
| I wrote and illustrated this poem back
in 1996 under my pseudonym: Cirse Windom. It was Blackcloud's favorite poem.
The canyon I refer to is Summerhawk Valley. This is where I stand to speak
to the ancients - to ask for their guidance - to pray. This is where
Blackcloud asked for his ashes to be scattered on a scaffold to be carried
by the wind over his beloved mountain home. His wishes will be carried out
in the Spring of 2008. The world lost a great humanitarian when Blackcloud joined the ancients. Respected and often revered by all who knew him, he was a father-figure and friend to many struggling to find their way through the world. Immeasurably capable, he embodied the spirit of an adventurer and embraced life's greatest lessons and joys - questing always for greater knowledge of practical and sacred alike. Get to know him a little more and view his art by visiting his gallery: Blackcloud Naturalism and spiritualism have always fused to inspire my life and my writing. If you are interested in learning more of my personal philosophy or viewing more of my work in this regard, please visit this link: Cirse Windom |
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All contents of this site, unless
otherwise noted are copyrighted by Lisa Bracken, 2007. |