Drifting Dreams
Winds of Future Truths
Seeking
Healing Thoughts
Stone Sitting
Silent Exchange
Join in the Dance
Listen to the Winds
The Protectors
Dancing in Moonbeams
Cherokee Truths
Cherokee Memories
Trail of Tears
Medicine Wheel
Cherokee Rose
Legend of the Dreamcatcher

Song of the People
bringing the most wonderful visions to me
of dark nights and center fires.

Women in buckskin dresses
long hair tied back with strips of leather ..
decorated with feathers and hair from a horse's tail.

singing .. drumming .. flutes calling softly in the night air

Flickering sparks from the fire
are taking the song into the heavens
for the spirits to take on their journey.

Tan dogs are growling just out of sight in the dark ..
fighting over scraps of skin and bone from a beast,
roasting, wrapped in leaves, covered with rocks, buried in the earth.

Young men .. old men .. warriors of a time past ..
wearing claw necklaces and chest plates made of bone ..
decorated with beads of shells .. carved from fresh muscle clam shells.

I can smell the woodsy, earthy smell of the fire.
The sweat of the young men .. bitter and masculine ..
mixed with fat from the bear tickles my nose.

The women are laughing .. braiding each other's hair ..
tying it with horse hair while children play in the dirt ..
playing with sticks and moss filled balls made of animal skin.

I have been here .. sometime in my past ..
and look down to my hands ..
surprised and wondering to whom these hands belong.

See the wrinkles on my hands? .. wrinkles of a very old woman ..
small scars made from many years of hard work ..
creases on the edge of my thumb from holding a bone scraper.

She is sad .. but content.. living alone without a man for many years ..
sharing a bed of furs with a younger woman ..
who is learning from her the ways of the People.

Our small fire shines on baskets of herbs .. mosses ..
strips of soft buckskin.. down from wild geese..
lichens from boulders strewn along the river by the hand of God.

A large wolf lingers on the outside of the tent ..
one can hear him snuffling around outside ..
he is a friend .. carrying the spirit of someone she loves.

He has eyes bright with knowledge given him by the Creator.
This wolf keeps staring at me .. waiting for me to come walk
and to talk with him and the bear .. to talk to God.

Wolf and bear are speaking to the Creator,
and tell the woman her name is Wind woman
a name given her by the Creator.

Surrounding her in soft swirls of smoke from sage wands
dusting off the cobwebs of truths
clearing her heart of ills and harsh thoughts.

Cleansing her of darkness left behind by one who meant her harm ..
cleansing her and opening the way for more pleasant thoughts
while spirits join her in her quest for a happiness she has lost.

She looks at the wolf .. knowing her love is within his eyes ..
she kisses him softly and holds him close ..
as he sits next to her and breathes peace into her hair.

She lays back against him .. smelling the strong sweet scent of sage ..
knowing it makes the way for healing ..
she relaxes into his love and rests safe within his care.

© August 1999 Brenda "Rion" Sewell
 

Content and waiting, made alive by
healing waters cascading in sheets
cleansing the air .. banishing the dark ones
that threaten to take over one’s mind.

Water rushing in an impetuous dance
an elixir of life surrounding
fragrant blossoms of purple hue ..
nature comes to me as I wait
and watch.

Yield one self to the peace in
this special place of mystery
of hidden treasures.

Bird songs trill overhead,
their colors intense in the sun
flashing .. a glimmer of color and hope
serene in the knowledge they are gifts
given to one who will treasure their worth.

Shared is the hope, the belief and desire
in the winds of future truths ..
set free of the bonds of this earth
bathing in the light of God.

© June 1999 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

Waking in the silent night,
lost in thought and expectation,
she walks the sand in futile search
for an illumination of her soul.

Walking beneath a velvet sky
with brilliant stars that call to her,
she’s enticed to follow silently
into the heavens in a cloud filled dream.

Night birds call and sing her name
while resting in their downy nests.
Spiders weave their close knit webs,
into dream catchers made of finest silk.

Nature invites her to join the dance
of light and dark, of evening song,
as she walks the shadows of the night
seeking enlightenment and her life's truth.

© June 1999 Brenda "Rion" Sewell
 

Dark clouds of doubt have filled my days and covered me at night
confusion, hate, a perplexity of chaos .. have filled my waking hours.
No matter how I turned my thoughts toward light and joy and bliss,
the shadow came to block the sun and take away my powers.

Tossing in my sleep at night, my mind was never still or calm
I dreamed of fiends disguised as men delighting in the act of pain.
Now, troubled thoughts are blown away with a changing of the winds
bringing peace upon the breeze and cleaning cobwebs from my mind.

The peace is welcomed in the night as once again I try to sleep
and serene tranquillity is brought to me with a clarity of sight.
I welcome thoughts from long ago, of walking a path of healing words
given to those whose troubled lives are tormented by the dark.

© May 1999 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

 
Soft green boughs of fragrant pine
are piled high on a rocky slope.
A cushion for a warrior brave of heart
sitting for days awaiting his call.

Many have sat in this very same spot
awaiting verification of a dream.
Waiting for answers hiding deep in the heart
of the spiritual guide to his destiny.

Mist and soft whispering herald the coming
of a bearer of light and mystery.
Touching the mind and filling the heart
and bringing his truth into the light.

Standing to face the first evening star
he gathers his strength to meet the night.
Now that he knows his destiny’s path,
the strength of knowledge holds still his fears.

© May 1999 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

The old man sits in the noon day sun
watching the lunch time crowd.
They ignore the man with the tattered coat
and a feather tied into his hair.

A small boy stands on the sidewalk
and returns the old man’s smile.
No one sees the silent exchange
between old and younger eyes.

Memories of sun drenched days
come back to the old man’s mind,
of walking along a country road
hunting rabbit, squirrel, and dove.

The care free days of childhood
bring a smile to the weathered face
and wash away the worries of where
he would make his bed that night.

The smile of the boy has brightened his day
by warming his heart with fond memories
of treasures he holds deep within his mind
and he smiles though he’s homeless and worn.

© May 2000 Brenda "Rion" Sewell
 

Come to me now in the darkness
come to me .. let me show you the light
a brightness we all have within
energy that lights the soul.

Stay with me .. join me in the dance.
Stay with me .. let me hold your body
close to my heart and then
listen to me whisper my love.

Hold me tight .. tarry with me a bit.
Hold me tight .. wander the sky with me
come with me in clear conscious thought
and follow me into the night.

Join in the dance ... sing all the songs with me.
Join in the dance ... give all your troubles away
forever we will sail on soft warm breezes
on the wings of angels on high.

© May 1999 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

 
<Dave>        Winds blowing Amongst the Trees of Old,
<Dave>        Leaves and Branches
<Dave>        Winds moving among the Tallest,
<Dave>        Trunks and Bark
<Dave>        Winds whispering through Saplings,
<Dave>        Bent and Green
<Brenda>                 Light and Dark
<Dave>        Winds telling tales of things they've seen
                                   Each Sound a new Image creates
<Dave>         Echoes of Memories too old to be Old
<Dave>         Tales of Places unseen in Light and Feared in Dark
<Dave>         Travel in the Winds
<Brenda>                  Listen to the winds ..
<Dave>         Listen to your soul talk to the Winds
<Brenda>                  Holding their truths close to survive
<Dave>         Sharing Secrets and Truths
<Brenda>                   Sharing fallacies and lies
<Dave>         Daring the Soul to break Free to Move as the Wind
<Dave>         To Live as the Wind Wanders, Touching Millions
<Brenda>                   Touching .. never stopping ..
<Dave>         A challenge has been issued to your soul .....

It is time to dance in the moonbeams
It is time to call down the stars
It is time to welcome their precious light
to hold close to your heart in a sleepless night
to brighten the recesses of a darkened mind.

It is long past looking for answers
It is long past searching for truths
It is long past calling for someone to help
for your truths lie deep within yourself
if you just have the patience to look.

Dance for awhile in the moonbeams
Dance for awhile ‘neath the stars
Dance for awhile in the cool night air
let diamonds of dewdrops form in your hair
delight in the peace that you find in your heart.

© May 1999 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

The woman held the child in her lap, telling a story of far away truths ...
of winds of time and storm filled clouds, rising about mountains cloaked in mist.

Dancing beneath the pale full moon, bodies glistened as if dusted with gold.
Praises they sang in voices clear, notes floating on air to the stars above.

Hoping to quell the fear in their hearts, of death from war in the future times,
they called aloud unto their God, as the world cried tears long into the night.

Warriors weakened and torn by war, the men traveled throughout the night,
trying to reach the sanctity of home, to the arms of the ones they loved.

Taking strength from the light of the moon, sipping nectar of peace from above,
the one bright star in the velvet sky shown on their pathway home.

The woman held the child in her lap, telling a story of far away truths ...
of broken dreams, of shattered lives, and the truth of their family tree.

© April 1999 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

Taking the small child by the hand,
she walked upon leaf covered paths.
Sunlight dappled the underbrush
dancing and hiding amongst the vines.

A leather bag she carried close
and into it treasures she stored,
of grasses, flowers, feathers, and stones
each with a story all its own.

As she lovingly placed her feet on the path,
she smiled and sang a sweet melody,
brushing the tendrils of hair from her face,
they walked in peaceful harmony.

Stories she told to the child as they walked,
stories of old times and family tales,
laughter and tears, the hopes and dreams
of a people with grace and dignity.

Holding the child up close to her heart,
she told her to remember the words
so in future times, when someone asked
she too could pass on the family tales.

© April 1999 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

Stolen from the homeland of the People,
Children of the World walked miles beneath the sun.
Mothers held their babies close in packs upon their backs,
children cried while walking on the path till day was done.

Stolen from their homeland of green forests and cool lakes,
they walked into a strange and distant land.
Not knowing where they were, not knowing just how far
they drew strength from one another in their band.

Warriors, who once stood proud, who once walked tall,
now walk in tragic sorrow with their heads bowed low,
now are wearing tattered feathers and clinging to the thoughts
of how to end this dreadful journey for them all.

A government that ruled the land, a land that was not theirs,
decreed the People leave their homes to set foot on a land of fears.
Fears of death and sickness, of shattered dreams and broken hearts
filled them, as they walked hand in hand, along the Trail of Tears.

© April 1999 Brenda "Rion" Sewell

It is told that a group of young girls had to be left behind in hiding as the tribe had to pack up and move quickly due to imminent danger. When the girls came out of hiding and went in search of the tribe, they came upon an injured wolf. After nursing the wolf back to health, they became adopted by the entire pack of wolves, who saved them from danger many times as the girls continued their search for the rest of their tribe.

The warrior fathers, upon returning to find the girls, saw the wolves surrounding their daughters from a distance. Not understanding that the wolves were actually protecting their daughters, they slew them one and all.

After being told of their grave mistake, they vowed to honor the wolf as protector throughout time. This became tradition and continues today.

Good dreams flowed through the center of the catcher where they then slid down a feather to the dreamer below. However, bad dreams got caught up in the web and kept until the first rays of morning light melted them away.

This is an accounting of the legend of the dreamcatcher.

"A spider was quietly spinning her web in her own space. It was beside the sleeping space of Nokomis, the grandmother.

Each day, Nokomis watched the spider at work, quietly spinning away. One day as she was watching the spider, her grandson came in. "Nokomis-iya!" he shouted, glancing at the spider. He stomped over to the spider, picked up a shoe and went to hit it.

"No-keegwa," the old lady whispered, "don't hurt her."

"Nokomis, why do you protect the spider?" asked the little boy.

The old lady smiled, but did not answer. When the boy left, the spider went to the old woman and thanked her for saving her life. The spider said to her, "For many days you have watched me spin and weave my web. You have admired my work. In return for saving my life, I will give you a gift." She smiled her special spider smile and moved away, spinning as she went.

Soon the moon glistened on a magical silvery web moving gently in the window. "See how I spin?" she said. "This is my gift to you. See and learn, for dreams, both good and bad, float on the night air searching for their destination. This web is a dreamcatcher. If it is hung in the home above your bed, it will catch your dreams."

"Only good dreams will go through the small hole. The good dreams will go through the hole and slide down the webbing. The good dreams know the right way to avoid getting caught and easily find their way to the center hole of the Dreamcatcher. They work their way down the web, catching all the good energies of the stones and other adornments, and finally filter down through the long soft feathers to the sleeper."

"The bad dreams, being confused and ill-intentioned, will become hopelessly entangled in the web of the Dreamcatcher, and will perish in the heat of the morning sun. When Morning comes, the bad dreams will melt away with the sun as dew upon a spider's web."