A Winter's Summoning

An audio field note from the fallow

A song emerged last week from some deep tending with the mighty sisters of Rising Appalachia last week. Actually, a song and poem. I suppose they are like fraternal twins—not identical, but birthed at the same time.

I’ll let them speak for themselves, but will just say that there is a timely invitation to stay with the rawness before moving to the well-worn grooves of reaction we may be pulled to in the face of the latest world events.

A winter's summoning

A winter's summoning of energies needing tending

Call them to gentle landing 
in your modest hennery 
for incubation and soothing 

Learn to make them snacks

Let not knowing 
not be a fever a dream 

Summon 
gather
–supple–
burnishing the rawness

Tread where only tracks seem to live

Let colors run together 
A new mandala in which to dwell

A winter’s summoning of energies
Of magics
Of spirit
Of ancestors 
needing tending

Let them suckle
in the generative dark