The Flowering Tree
The Flowering Tree is the centre of the hoop Sacred Drumming
of souls coming forward the earth to be saved.
We sing to the rainbow, to the sea on the shore
our arms reach to heaven to the Ancient Ones door.
The clouds roll in beauty flecked with the suns golden light
they thunder this calling for the balance made right.
We sing with our voices, we sing with our eyes
we sing with our listening, we sing with our cries.
The heavens are opening with love for the earth
we wake up and gather for an ages new birth.
We know not the future, we sense only death
of the past, of the untruth, of the fear of the breath.
We can all breathe together, breathing deeply as one
all life is booming on the breath as a drum.
The sea breathes in waves, in tides and in swells.
The land breathes in seasons, in rainfalls and smells.
The sky breathes in breezes, in wind and in gale.
With clouds bellowing eastward, brushing away all that is stale.
The Spirit of East receives this new dawn
with the spring time and flowers in glades that are born.
From the womb of our mother, on a new breath is laid
maidens singing and dancing in bluebells and sage.
The Spirit of South, with its warmth and sand cover
is abundantly green, on the bed of her lover.
The healing and herbs are for all our relations
as the wheel keeps turning through countless creations.
The West with the thunder, the lightening and rain
cleanse and renew for wisdom to be gained.
For the youth to be wiser and bear nature to be found
whilst the life that is stronger can rest underground.
When life has gone deeper we face North, hair white
where the buffalo bellows in the ice snowy night.
Endurance and pain, death of the past.
The night makes us pure as we replace the old cast.
For it has got to go, the past has to die.
The shadow of pain needs to be shed to the sky.
Living in stars, in the moon and the sun
Are the past generations, and future souls yet to come.
Great Spirit, O Great Mystery, in the medicine wheel
In lifes presence, in all, the cycles we feel.
The tree that is flowering in the rainbow tribe,
is the breath of the spirit awakening inside.
Their relating is perfect, the she and the he
the sun father dancing, on his lover the sea.
His breath is caressing the side of her hill,
whilst the star nations gather, to time all and fill.
These lovers are perfect, the earth and the sky,
the moon and the sun move oceans as they fly.
It's enormous to measure, the relation of all
because really, as humans, we stand very small.
Yet we can turn the directions and vision for truth
from wisdom and death, through conception and youth.
Our drums can start beating, timed to the pulse
the heart can then tune us, so life is not false.
But shining like Orion, with his spear held high
the rainbow can bridge for us humans to fly.
It's the effort, keep going, there is only one way
to keep with the singing, the children and pray.
For great intercession, have hope it will come
as an angel of beauty, from the father and the son.
And mother sweet mother, your daughter is true
for kisses and caresses we are grateful to you.
You give us all birth and hold us all warm
from your womb of fresh flowers we were all born.
You cry to the elders and speak with the child
we come, we are humble we will be tender and try.
As children we may fall, yet you help us get free
as beautiful as the dawn star on the shining blue sea.
I am calling for them, they are calling for me
we are all calling for the flowering tree.
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