Red Moon Hombre

Songs of the Shaman: the Path of the Feather Red Moon Hombre

Imagine sitting quietly around a campfire. Deep throated Native drums are playing softly in the distance and somehow remind you of the beat of your mother's heart. A Native flute echoes in the wind from tree to tree, and an uncommon peace begins to settle over you. A sage old Native Warrior, in the full wisdom of his years, is sitting with you . . . and begins to speak . . . and you close your eyes to listen. He speaks of the old ways, he speaks of the old honors, and he speaks of his love for his people and their devotion to the balance in Nature. His heart and his words are kind and gentle . . . but the space between those words is filled with foreboding. He offers hope, but . . . . . "This is the way I would begin describe my waking vision . . . a solo journey of four days and three nights alone, into the wilderness . . . a Lakota style "vision quest" with no food and no water. It was a trail that would lead deep into the heart, and the mind, and the body, and the Spirit" . . . . . . . . . Robin Miller