Brand New Day

Van Morrison

When all the dark clouds roll away
And the sun begins to shine
I see my freedom from across the way
And it comes right in on time
Well it shines so bright and it gives so much light
And it comes from the sky above
Makes me feel so free makes me feel like me
And lights my life with love

[Chorus:]
And it seems like and it feels like
And it seems like yes it feels like
A brand new day, yeah
A brand new day oh

I was lost and double crossed
With my hands behind my back
I was longtime hurt and thrown in the dirt
Shoved out on the railroad track
I’ve been used, abused and so confused
And I had nowhere to run
But I stood and looked
And my eyes got hooked
On that beautiful morning sun

And it seems like and it feels like
And it seems like yes it feels like
A brand new day, yeah
A brand new day oh

And the sun shines down all on the ground
Yeah and the grass is oh so green
And my heart is still and I’ve got the will
And I don’t really feel so mean
Here it comes, here it comes
0 here it comes right now
And it comes right in on time
Well it eases me and it pleases me
And it satisfies my mind

And it seems like and it feels like
And it seems like yes it feels like
A brand new day, yeah
A brand new day oh…

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Eagle Poem

By Joy Harjo

To pray you open your whole self
To sky, to earth, to sun, to moon
To one whole voice that is you.
And know there is more
That you can’t see, can’t hear
Can’t know except in moments
Steadily growing, and in languages
That aren’t always sound but other
Circles of motion.
Like eagle that Sunday morning
Over Salt River. Circled in blue sky
In wind, swept our hearts clean
With sacred wings.
We see you, see ourselves and know
That we must take the utmost care
And kindness in all things.
Breathe in, knowing we are made of
All this, and breathe knowing
We are truly blessed because we
Were born, and die soon, within a
True circle of motion,
Like eagle rounding out the morning
Inside us.
We pray that it will be done
In beauty.
In beauty.

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How to Talk With a Mountain

By Elaine Maria Upton

Anthropomorphism has its place. It’s
a starting point, at least. So, I’ll say
if i have eyes, then a mountain has eyes,
and whatever happens after that
is poetry, where i become lost,
and there are no conditions, no
consequences. There’s only the mountain,

Mother, inside, around, leaping, plunging down.
The hips of the mountain where wombs
curl inside wombs, generations of granite, coal,
and sequoyah, woodpeckers and eagles
and sparrows. Cedar and pine plunge
their roots into the Mountain Mother.
They cannot escape her. They are her,
and in their knotted wrestling in the ground,
through ages, they return, return, return……

She rains from inside, and curls to clouds.
The clouds embrace her. She is clouds.
She is the light of birch bark, carved to sail
on her soothing rivers. The nimble, nibbling deer.

She is King, Queen, priest, choirs and silence.
Always she reigns, with absolute rule,
and her rule is bounty and blessing.
She is the daughter of Sun, the son
of Moon, and waxes, heaves, cries, folds,
sings. She sings and there is silence. I AM

the Mountain. I go into these hills
as into mySelf. Ground hogs, moles,
mushroom, moss, hawk, and helix-
spiral of flower and cone, cicadas
are my messengers. Leaves fallen
from trees are my skin. Gray wolves
are my solitude. Brown bears, my wisdom,
Buffalo rising from my bowls, rushing

through Air of plains, urging the sleeping
Earth, are my Fire. Unearthed, Everest,
Blanc, Kilimanjaro, Shasta, Shambala,
I climb to clouds, copulate in crystal bed
of snow, promiscuous with all the stars,
am the clouds, the Star, am what is beyond,
unseen, unseen, Un/Seen, un/Born
before the blossom and chatter of Spring.

Watery springs gossip sweet news, gurgling
falling from my throat, calling,
calling, calling: come, always, I Am
here; I Am/Mountain all around, above,
below, within. Come, there is nowhere to go….
I AM/singing , the Sound that is always here…

2 March 1999
Hyde Park, everywhere

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They Have Become

By Elaine Maria Upton

They Have Become….
word dreamer in ce*

No one lives here anymore,
and even ‘here’ is a word that hangs on
a memory swimming away with the westward cloud.

No one lives here anymore.
The wedding ritual is over
and the brides are gone.

They have pledged to walk ‘it is true’
everywhere always ’til death.
And now, its disappointing: there is no death.

No one lives here anymore.
There is no life–there is no death.
There are no brides, no you, no me.

The leaves of bushes and trees tremble in wind
and gray clouds sleepwalk across the sky.
Still, most days the sun burns everything.

No one lives here anymore.
The sun burns everything.
This is a desert, indifferent to rain.

The saguaro drank water centuries ago.
That was how it began. They stood
horizontal, in coyote’s eyes, eyes of the dream.

No one lives here anymore. No one
waters or drinks. The weather has become
what it always was: Earth, Wind, and Fire.

No one waters anymore. There is nothing
to purify, and only hunger that burns in the sun.
The corn has become what it always was:

The corn has become the servant/giver of sun.
No one lives here anymore. The brides
have turned all the Earth, have watered and drunk.

They do not live here anymore.
They have eaten the corn. They have become
the Water, the Wood, the Earth, the Wind, the Sun.

No one lives here anymore.
Listen to the buffalo ghost, the empty cornfield.
Listen to the wind in mountains, in leaves of trees.

Sail with the cloud. No one lives here anymore.
The turtle’s voice is as always: less than a whisper.
Listen: it is not death! The graves are light!

Listen to the corn. Listen!
They have eaten the corn. They have become
the Water, the Moon, the Earth, the Wind, the Sun.

5 July 1998

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No Time

Steve Toth

The sun doesn’t contain itself
so how shall we?
What’s more precise
than our own illusions?
Be not afraid
I feel free to tell you anything
I want to learn to drive you wild
Nobody’s safe
We’re all naked as flowers
How do you always know where to look?
Love me silly
Love my brains out

Nothing here is what it seems
There’s no time to waste
so we never cease our explorations
No more words without lives
We don’t run with predators anymore
we run with the prey
What’s more important
than the way life is
playing with your hair
disguised as my figures?
My thinking passages
are all fogged up with your breath

Our desires are developing their own strains
Tease me with revelations
Whatever you touch
you seem to transfigure
Transfigure me with your touch
Only you know what I mean
There’s no time to waste
Sing for me
Sing death is a lie
You’re what’s really intoxicating
making the moon shine
in the still of this night

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