• Vol. 09
  • Chapter 12


Her voice travels softly
between the larches, drawing
believers to this peaceful dell
where sunlight through the canopy
picks out the slow tumble of seed casings,
the first leaf falls of autumn,
the last dances of mayflies.

They gather around the totem,
lift their faces to these familiar symbols
of bravery and loyalty,
of kinship and connection,
of humour and companionship.

Together they share their respect
for these elders whose mythology
has been passed down
through the generations.
Circled, they touch fingertips,
raise voices to old songs
remembered from childhood,
look up to the ancient heavens.