A Vision – Sacred Circle

by John Thompson

No words can speak the power of “I AM HERE”

For when black thunder cracks on blood-red plains

The horseman comes, the storm-chaser of dreams

His feathered spear raised high he splits the wind

And silences the babbling tongues of men.

My words mean nothing, nor is my story told

But lived, and permeating many worlds at once

I find to howl more eloquent than many poems

And dancing on this mountain top my greatest deed.


This is no ordinary company that I have joined

With men named Wolf, Coyote, Frog and Crow,

Red Tail-Black Tail, Salmon, Eagle, Raven, Bear

And other appellations from their savage souls:

No cowards, they, to seek the anonymity

Of lesser men. My brothers wear the garish robes

And fearsome masks of spirit warriors,

Singing, dancing, drumming high on mapless plains

Where lesser men would count it mad to go.


Invoke the Powers, fear not! For you have earned

The right to call the Elements to your command.

Our Lady of the Forest and her retinue

Have come into our circle where they move about

Within without the boundaries and the core,

And so I counsel silence, for our Mother speaks,

But softly! They will only hear who hold

Their place with firmness and transcendent love,

Those deaf to talk of “What” and “Why” and “How.”


Within your deepest heart say only, “I AM HERE!”

There’s nothing else the Universe requires of you,

For with these words the rivers flow, the flowers grow

And mountains push their heads up through the clouds,

These words invoke Above/Below, the Ancient Magic,

Birthright of our Brotherhood! These words unite

The midnight with the blazing noon, the Sun with Moon,

Desert with rain, Lover with pain,

And Cosmic Minions with this earthly realm.


And I am here this moment; in the next I’m gone,

For I follow the Horseman, chasing storms in dreams!

While I am with you, take the fullness of my love

And all my power, my shadow and my savageness

You get it all, for I will not divide myself,

Nor will I sit in judgment, less will I be judged.

The Lady of the Forest bade me start a stream,

Become a river, froth and rage unto the sea

Where she awaits, my Mother, ever calling me.


And I obey.


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