 Poem a dreaming... to drum with our earth mother... to connect... be in harmony is all we seek... calm balance... fresh clarity... to seek resonance, tone, timbre, pulse... linking up to be one, once again... return to source in unity together with our blessed earth mother... she seeks us by always helping us remember... being there, a constant... offering support and nurturance... let's offer our love and hope with clear, whole, sound...re-connect with her deep heart-pulse... her rhythm so constant so strong... rhythm gives us intent... she keeps us going melody is like thought... be of like mind harmony is emotion... begin by giving back... as one people one heart, one song side by side harmonizing... with our body... around her body at one moment... now! © 1994 by weaver photo of chumpi stone © 2016 copyright by weaver weaver x (((o))) Above video showing the beginnings of our dear windwalker coming into be-ing...
Thank you dear Rick for the video...
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 poem...
again out walking today rust red rose hips sing to me taking me back to you... over and over and over and over and... over and over and over and over and... over and over and over and over again... - weaver © 09/04 note... while reading the above poem aloud slowly... it may remind you of soft, loving drumming over and over and over and over........ x (((o)))  healing pool... photo by weaver... We are in a time of great healing and for all those who are willing to work toward releasing emotions held too long in the heart... our ancestors gift us these wise deep words they suggest, in silence... meditation... they came to me through and within the sound of drumming this day.... x (((o)))
I am love but know not love... I am free but know not freedom... I am born but know i not die... I can walk but know i not run... I can see but know i not hide... I must release this old burden, weighing on my heart heavy... Drowning me in deep sorrow, for all the wrongs I have inflicted... For all the wrongs I have so suffered... Endured in lifetimes, long forgotten.. Carried forth now, for all to hear... Brought forth now, for all to listen... Brought forth now in great remembrance, this lifetime forgiving... Learning present to let go... Turn the ego toward the Light... Choose the pain to drop away... Gift all hurt to our earth Mother... it feeds Her... as She feeds us... Breathe the Light She gifts back within Right Relationship... Feel the sorrow wash through, feel the tears now turn to joy... Open your heart once more to laughter, feel your joy light up the sky... Your soul is clear and now rejoices... Let this go, move through this, your day... - sourced through weaver © October, 2011 
poem...
tonight i like the rain... tonight i like the rain… and usually i don’t mostly because sometimes it can pour and pour and pour here but tonight i like the rain... maybe because i like the sound she makes as the heavy drops fall with assured intent now tonight i like the rain… because she seems to know that our earth is crying i guess… i think our earth is just plain tired with all of us not caring but tonight i thank the rain... as she incessantly washes all the uncaring away once again giving us another chance to care like we used to tonight i like the rain... -- weaver © 2005
Om Namah Shivaya Gurave (Christaya) Mantra... played and chanted by weaver...
 'hummer' - art by weaver... poem...
quickening (power song) to gather energy at a moment’s notice hovering within the mother’s arms gently rocking side to side cradled light sound envelopes my whole being humming humming letting go straight to the heart as far as one can go catching the breath of spirit to allow and let go with total trust and knowingness as i fall willingly i am nurtured and loved within the ever present great mother she is i am one in the all together flying in completeness and just knowing joy is the song as i am the singer and the song i soar! -- © weaver x (((o))) Note... the spirit encounter that sparked this poem, view this post >>  poem...
the healing ears (not a typo either) a hanging half moon night is nagging away a blue sky day... driving back home and stopping in on the way a mallard stands at the store door... mom with a butcher knife still screams in my ears... remembrance… that i got way too close to an unknown full-swinging baseball bat... and the many drums are healing once again... yes please... the resonant. -- © 2003 weaver  flicker, the drummer - photographer unknown... if i leave this singing place...
i will miss the drums of the flickers… at this time of the morning glory who sing sturdy despite brittle, scorched shrubbery amidst them i too will leave this place as they lessen their grip far sooner than autumn… i linger with low mourning as to why i cannot sing with them because i am fixed numb with bewilderment… complete bafflement way frozen… i cry be-side my drummers of kin… who have called me to restiveness day after day since the time we have lived in this house of fraudulent impression… split-community, no-pride. why oh why…why please why… did it have to happen that i... my own kith and kin were battered with such potent hatred of who we are… we, only different from them? the strength i know now is i will sing again and again with the gold drummers who fly with me... wherever i go... by weaver x (((o))) © 2004 
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i wish to acknowledge with gratitude that i live, work + play on the traditional and unceded territory of the Snuneymuxw First Nation...
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"creating safe, sacred space for healing + creativity to begin..."
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