Weaving Elders of the Andes

The Eyes of a Whip-poor-will I imagine the light all around me and I feel the energy My heart beats, my blood flows The mystery is no longer a mystery to me I feel the energized hand reaching out to me, it is filled with abundance It engulfs me and nurtures my being It empowers me with the wisdom to understand order The trees breathe out and I breathe in They are my brethren making me understand my connectedness Imagine, Imagine I feel the innocent gaze of a child upon me and as I search their eyes it makes me smile I feel the comfort of aged skin reaching out to embrace me and let me know it will be OK, and I welcome it I feel the challenges but I open up to the possibilities I see things I do not understand but I will not push them aside, I know I have my place among them I find my purpose Focus, focus In every face I see my oneness Manifest, create, accept It is quiet now except for the singing of the whip-poor-will It reminds me that darkness has its place and to some it is filled with beauty when seen and felt with nocturnal senses It’s all in the perception I tell myself And it is so