I have come into this valley again on the wing of Owl
And It’s been a while and I’ve missed this serenity.
I settle upon the shore of the mountain lake and ask
“Where is my inner fire? Where is my inner heart?”
And the old grandmother appears in the shadows,
Crawling out, through the small door of her stick hut.
She doesn’t speak much, which I’m already aware of.
So her long bony finger stretches out and points
To the center of the vast cold mirror of a lake.
There, in the middle of a small island,
I see light, a flame that climbs high into the thin air.
And without words she speaks into my chest:
“This is the home of your Soul’s Heart,
Where your waters must be calm
And your flame be hot and bright
So that you can feed and care and heal
Through compassion and love and service
Those whose Heart is broken and bleeding.”
This is my journey
— Nate Long “Owl”
graphite with digital manipulation