~KEO/legend of new horse~

A few years ago I was invited to submit a piece for the KEO Project, a time capsule to be launched into space, scheduled to return in 50,000 years.  I sent the following bit along with Legend of New Horse, a song written and performed by myself, my oldest son, Tommy and son-in-law, Troy.  Tommy’s doing the guitar work, Troy’s the drummer and I am trying, as always, to sing.

~KEO

I am much less than a weathered tome to your eyes. I’ve come to seek that which more than magick reveals, language, the texture of my skin, cloth spread ‘cross bony spar, a cobweb sail blown by the winds of time. What I have accomplished must occur a thousand times more, each set of these fifty years of my existence. I see the hand of my grandson upon the hand of my son. Over a hundred and fifty generations this eternal stack of hands will represent, a fine promise and hope of aeon.

This message is a thin whisper to the younger, word secrets kissed into your ear. We aren’t doing so well in this world of bombs and bullets we have made, our epithets of peace or else, the mad science of overkill. I hope you are there in spite of us, have learned something because of us and are, better still, yet one of us. 

I am a man who dreams. It has even been suggested that I dream in color. I do so hope you have color and a host of dreams upon waking. To this end, I have penned a song whose tune my son’s guitar has learned to sing. I have chosen to include the lyrics that its music might find your lips for I know, if you are of me, you will find a way to sing.

~legend of new horse~

~momma told her first son~

~come sit down by my side~

~when everything is said & done~

~all you can do is try~

~remember when you wonder~

~which way and what to do~

~sometimes only hunger~

~will see a spirit through~

~& we’re standing

~in a crosswind~

~bad moon bound to carry~

~a legend on the rise~

 

~when you follow your heart~

~face the risk of breaking down~

~set yourself a part~

~awareness of the sound~

~the arch of earth & sky~

~peace angelic fall~

~momma said, “son we can only fly~

~when we’re not above it all”~

~& we’re standing~

~in a crosswind~

~bad moon bound to carry~

~a legend on the rise~

 

~where winter makes its mark~

~what decades find lay claim~

~a howling voice the dark~

~& new horse is its name~

~a pounding heart of rage~

~tempered passion will~

~when it’s time to turn the page~

~a destiny fulfill~

~& we’re standing~

~in a crosswind~

~bad moon bound to carry~

~a legend on the rise~

 

~breathless fall from the womb~

~a four point landing to~

~maybe shake the mother spoon~

~find a path that’s true~

~we are only what we are~

~a kick in fortune’s ass~

~honey we may hold the stars~

~kiss the nights we pass~

~& we’re standing~

~in a crosswind~

~bad moon bound to carry~

~a legend on the rise~

 

~momma told her first son~

~come sit down by my side~

~when everything is said & done

~all you can do is try~

~remember when you wonder~

~which way & what to do~

~sometimes only hunger~

~will see a spirit through~

~& we’re standing~

~in a crosswind~

~bad moon bound to carry~

~a legend on the rise~

So, there you have it. I keep a tenuous grip at best, so at odds am I to the time in which I have been borne. I live near the mountains and share their breath and my children, your next of next of kin. Be generous and good to one another. Look forward and not back. Most of what you may learn from us is how not to be. In history’s stead, keep a good heart. Care about your young and old. Those in between will thrive in a circle of wellness.

I like to think of myself as your father for it is what I have come best to be, one who cares for children, sings when he gets the chance and appreciates blessings of love when they occur. Remember always that your spirit resides within yourself. You are a living pagoda. No one can show you the way, yet you may close your eyes and wander unclothed in a snowfield to be kissed by gods. Be humble and proud, simply courageous.

I promised myself I wouldn’t preach when I penned this piece, yet it sounded just then as if I were. Listen, if you know me when this is found, come get me straight away. We will make a circle and pound our bare feet into the dust of our Spiritual Ground, howl the legend to the heavens, press our faces into the flesh of the new horse and ride the hell away. 

http://wordwulf.com/music

Inquiries:wordwulf@gmail.com

©artwork, music & words conceived by & property of

tom (WordWulf) sterner 2014©

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About wordwulf

wordwulf@gmail.com website: http://wordwulf.com
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