Grandmother Moon rises over Elden Peak, outside the WF Temple H(om)e two years ago. by ilg.***
Most Precious GrandMother, ilg is so sorry... on behalf of my Turtle Island Tribe of the Two-Leggeds, ilg is sooooo sorry.
as a boy with a wolf, you empowered my courage to fight the scariness of backcountry night.
as a climber i would ascend sandstone spires, naked, taking unfathomable joy in my simian strength beneath your glow among the pines.
as a yogi, never does a day go by where i worship you not, Oh Precious 'Tha" of HaTha Yoga! For you are my Ida Nadi inside!
as a father, my own Daughter has grown up giggling, screaming with Love for you... "Tha" the Sanskrit word for you, was our Daughter's first Spoken Word.
Each night, every morning we hold her in our arms and search Father for your delightful, illumined Grace.
This morning,
my Tribe pile drove some fancy trash into your navel.
My People...
oh my People.
Oh, my People.
we cannot take Go(o)d Care of our own Mother (Earth) and Father (Sky) so for some inexplicable instinct for demolishing assumed 'frontiers', we sent a crude rocket to literally 'fuck' you this morning. Grandmother, you should not be violently fucked by we, the very Tribe which You sustain in your endless Dance...
Support what's left of your Tribal Soul;
Read the rest of Coach's seemingly lone cry
for this act of violence upon
our Grandmother...
support
coach's
Wholistic Fitness®
by subscribing to DL
and
let all your Sweat be Sacred
as a boy with a wolf, you empowered my courage to fight the scariness of backcountry night.
as a climber i would ascend sandstone spires, naked, taking unfathomable joy in my simian strength beneath your glow among the pines.
as a yogi, never does a day go by where i worship you not, Oh Precious 'Tha" of HaTha Yoga! For you are my Ida Nadi inside!
as a father, my own Daughter has grown up giggling, screaming with Love for you... "Tha" the Sanskrit word for you, was our Daughter's first Spoken Word.
Each night, every morning we hold her in our arms and search Father for your delightful, illumined Grace.
This morning,
my Tribe pile drove some fancy trash into your navel.
My People...
oh my People.
Oh, my People.
we cannot take Go(o)d Care of our own Mother (Earth) and Father (Sky) so for some inexplicable instinct for demolishing assumed 'frontiers', we sent a crude rocket to literally 'fuck' you this morning. Grandmother, you should not be violently fucked by we, the very Tribe which You sustain in your endless Dance...
Support what's left of your Tribal Soul;
Read the rest of Coach's seemingly lone cry
for this act of violence upon
our Grandmother...
support
coach's
Wholistic Fitness®
by subscribing to DL
and
let all your Sweat be Sacred
