The Blind Seer
I invoke my guides
To seek for the one
Who can help heal
The male lineage
Of my father.
The drums
Are pounding
Their rhythm
Deep
Into the caverns
Of my soul.
I follow Eagle
Over miles
And miles
And miles
Of scorched land.
Centuries of
Invasion
Wars
Persecution…
Back to a time
When my people
Were bright
And connected
To the spirits.
Finally we reach
A nomadic people
In the northern steppes.
It is 300 BC
I am told.
A boy is standing
Dressed in furs
Holding a staff
At the mouth of a cave.
All around
Are stretches
Of cold,
Barren land.
“Are you my ancestor?”
I ask
The boy
Takes me inside
The cave
To his grandfather.
All is steeped in darkness
But for a small fire.
He is blind,
Though he knows
I am there.
“I have been waiting for you
For a long time”
He says.
I sit in front on him
On the other side
Of the fire.
I feel waves
Of energy
Course through my body.
Powerful
Timeless
Pure
And all-knowing
It has the quality
Of rocks
And ancient trees.
“I bless you
With the power to see through
The illusion,
Not with your eyes
Or your mind
But with your
Intuition
And your heart.”
He tells me
I sense layers
Of beliefs
Grief
And conditioning
Melting away.
My heart wells
With gratitude
And relief.
I have been waiting for you
A long time too.