I listen to the beating drum and try to reach in between each strike on the surface of the drum.
As I concentrate on that space, I see the beats become the slats on a fence or the trunks of aspen in a forest, and in between each tree is the full-blown color of Spirit World.
First only seeing glimpses from the tiniest of openings, then gradually they widen as I move in closer.
There, just barely, I see the eye of Owl and the blue skies over a mountain valley and the dust rising from a herd of bison on a grassy plain and the mirrored surface of a lake where my Father and Grandfather and Grandmother fish from the banks .
I hear the words, or the songs or the winds as messages come slipping through.
I feel the breezes and the chills as spirit reaches a slender loving finger through to touch me.
I send my prayer back through, “please help me in my practice to find these places between things, so I may find wisdom and healing and peace.”
This is my journey,
— Nate Long “Owl”
Graphite with digital manipulation