Scream if you want to go faster.

A poem about my introduction to Shamanism

He warned me,
all those years ago,
when dogma had left me soul-dead,
cracked-tongue thirsting for living waters.

I found them in the morning dew,
the cleansing, healing rain…
The crashing power of the angry sea.

I’d yearned for vibrancy and passion.
Not dusty diatribes
of confusing constriction,
condemning life-force urgings,
as spirit-suffocating sin.

I found myself in silence.

Then, Communion
in animated bonfire flames
and visceral, pounding drum beats.
In dawn’s crow choruses
and twilight’s muted shadows.

Archaic language, whistling
through wind-blown trees,
resonated in my locked mind dungeons.
Blessing stale, forgotten chambers
with life giving sustenance.

Resuscitation of my ancient self.
Face-slapped with love,
calling me to remembrance…

He told me
“Scream if you want to go faster”

I don’t think
I have stopped screaming
since.