Ghost-wood bear-skull pines engulf us primal ancestors sons of an older cosmos memory tree remember me when I am under the ground beyond the aspens roots I see wisdom centuries old abound forests as graves of gods spoke speaking through spores and the kernels of the oak mirror-fencer's unhusked debris mummified maps with no explanatory key made from the death of an exploding star what wonders more than they are? Destroyed to find secrets in the ruins where those who listen are transformed into magicians enthroned by the great highways grin the question we receive is the answer we put in as we haul ourselves to the gates but bound to our fates
Bring us back natures holy temples Give us back the magic of the sun Bring us back the mystery of the universe Give us back our sacred mother earth
Winds whistle home the truth here I stand truly written ancient laws of the woods far older than Akhenaten
Don't break the curse we'll love what we once were don't break the curse it's our sacred way of life of life, of life
The barley that never rose bathed in the shadowy sickle cut through the floods of war the smoke from our tongues seeks signal
Don't break the curse we'll love what we once were don't break the curse it's our sacred way of life of life, of life
The forest is all and one as far back as fish and further sewn with seeds of the sun where every grave is a mother
The pine tree calls, opens the veil “whom we adorn we also invoke by seed and stem by bud and root ritual of death of life and truth to the worlds waiting womb”