soul tribe

I was going through some of my writings, and remembered I wrote this last autumn after feeling especially cramped in my soul when I was not wanting to be inside peopling, making small talk, people pleasing, and such. I remember my house felty stuffy-farty, and I slipped outside, glad to be outdoors.

Soul Tribe 

 

I stole away into the night, away from the noise, and all the human delights.  

In search of something---my people. My tribe. I wanted to feel myself. To feel my own vibe. 

My soul tribe where I could speak my truth, or just not be in opposition to my-self, under my own soul's roof.  

The air was cool, the sky was crisp. I heard the leaves swirling in the frosty mist. 

Like an ocean of the summer gone, telling stories of the coming winter, and the beautiful autumn. 

I walked swiftly. Glad to be outdoors.

 Away from people who felt as stale and dusty as ancient corridors. 

Here I felt my soul expand, where breath, and moon, and sky, held my mortal hand.  

Feeling as if I had found a friend. No more felt I a stranger in a strange land.  

Where peace came and greeted me, and led me to a place that was beautiful, free.  

Here was my soul tribe, not lost as I had once thought.  

Alone, I found what I sought.  

The woods, the trees, the sky, the hill.  

It spoke to me, and I bowed to its gentle will.  

My soul tribe spread out across the night, the milky way, sparkling, vivid, bright.  

The planets glittered, yet made no sound. They told me of the sacred ground. 

My feet dug deep, and kissed the earth, and I felt renewed, a second birth. 

Here. My soul tribe, wise, and profound, I need not seek it, but embrace the space I found. 

Here amid the earth, and the heavens, the gift of my own soul was given.  

I saw not myself alone at all. But saw my past lives, ten-thousand, maybe more. Where I had once walked this earth, a sage, a queen, and each mortal birth.  

I had been both rich, and poor. Someone who built, and someone who tore.  

All the bodies I had incarnated in.  

And I saw the wisdom that I had learned, and given. 

 The them, that was me, and I that was them.  

I felt my soul tribe in myself. In them. 

My tribe was everywhere I looked. 

Above, below, in the little ant's nook. 

My tribe was with the rustling leaves. 

The brook, the soil, the humming bees. 

My tribe was with the sun, and moon. The stars, the planets, and the space, where all souls come from.   

And the gift the earth imparted, reminded me, of the people I had sought space from, and departed.  

I wondered how I had been born here. Where no other souls sought this starry hill.  

My heart wept in vain, for those who would not drink from the place where so much was to be gained.  

Wisdom told me to sit and wait, and soak up my soul tribe, and be like a clear, vast lake. 

To be as still, as the rocks and grass. 

To not push, or harass.  

That every soul in your tribe or not. 

Is on a soul journey, and what you wish to give them, has to be sought.  

So letting all things be as they are. 

You rest in your soul. And you find your tribe is not very far. 

And see that the fabric of this place, is full of a weaving, of a gentle grace.