If the Rockies

don’t speak to you …

never return

The quiet their

rejection

— a silent goodbye

(Dreamsleep: July, 2024)

We need to remember our heritage and the reason we celebrate the 4th of July.

Have you ever wondered what happened to the 56 men who signed the Declaration of Independence? Their story. . .

Five signers were captured by the British as traitors, and tortured before they died.

Twelve had their homes ransacked and burned.

Two lost their sons serving in the Revolutionary Army; another had two sons captured.

Nine of the 56 fought and died from wounds or hardships of the Revolutionary War.

They signed and they pledged their lives, their fortunes, and their sacred honor.

What kind of men were they?

Twenty-four were lawyers and jurists.

Eleven were merchants.

Nine were farmers and large plantation owners; men of means, well educated.

But they signed the Declaration of Independence knowing full well that the penalty would be death if they were captured.

Carter Braxton of Virginia, a wealthy planter and trader, saw his ships swept from the seas by the British Navy. He sold his home and properties to pay his debts, and died in rags.

Thomas McKeam was so hounded by the British that he was forced to move his family almost constantly. He served in the Congress without pay, and his family was kept in hiding. His possessions were taken from him, and poverty was his reward.

Vandals or soldiers looted the properties of Dillery, Hall, Clymer, Walton , Gwinnett, Heyward, Ruttledge, and Middleton.

At the battle of Yorktown, Thomas Nelson, Jr., noted that the British General Cornwallis had taken over the Nelson home for his headquarters. He quietly urged General
George Washington to open fire. The home was destroyed, and Nelson died bankrupt.

Francis Lewis had his home and properties destroyed.

The enemy jailed his wife, and she died within a few months.

John Hart was driven from his wife’s bedside as she was dying.

Their 13 children fled for their lives. His fields and his gristmill were laid to waste. For more than a year he lived in forests and caves, returning home to find his wife dead and his children vanished.

So, take a few minutes while enjoying your 4th of July holiday and silently thank these patriots. It’s not much to ask for the price they paid.

Remember: freedom is never free!

In

the finality

of its embers

Form

burns like

 a kindling

Freeing

the beginning

of all that is possible

Freeing

the memory

— of tomorrow’s embrace 

(Dreamsleep: July, 2024)

Feathers and warpaint are symbolic disguises for the enemy …

Looking forward and inward, Crazy Horse was consumed by his vision as he rode into the ancestral camp of the unmarked trail. It was here that he listened for the older voices who kept council with the past.

There was no shield to protect from arrows fired from within. When shot from the heart of ancient wanderings and hitting their target, life turned into death and then life again.

The symbols of the warrior… the arrow, bow, and horse, were painted on tipi’s proud and were there to guide your spirit on its path to who you would become. The images depicted a true warrior’s journey — war being a portal —catalyzing with its deliverance the freedom of your spirit.

Death burns celebration as its kindling, renewing everything within the finality of its embers, taking you back to the beginning of all things possible, where …

The rules

the reasons

the ridicule

            and the redemption

all fade in your memory, while you become more of what you always were — and less of what the timid crave.

Unveiling your spirit

   rejoining your fathers

as your feathered bonnet and warpaint lie burning in the flames of a distant council fire.

Kurt Philip Behm: July, 2024

(From Searching For Crazy Horse)

Between a fool

and a wise man

who treads on who

Rushing forth

or holding back

many are the few

Who comes out

of the darkness first

the dolt or then the sage

One racing through  

the jungle blind

— the other in a cage

(Dreamsleep: July, 2024)

Wearing a veil

I revisit the past

Hiding from suitors

who hold to me fast

Muffling my words

as shadows befall

Their spirits indentured

— old feelings recalled

(Deamsleep: July, 2024)

Without me

you’re nothing

With me

— nothing more

(Dreamsleep: July, 2024)

Dimensional slippage

conceived from without

Length, width, and height

time squared thereabout

Spacetime endemic

on gravity’s spire

Black Holes ill rumored

supernova inspired

Fourth, fifth, and sixth

but then nobody’s sure

With logic’s deception

embraced more and more

The system it’s flawed

in both structure and form

Pulling you into

the physicist’s norm

Till that day you falter

and turn from it all

When the out becomes in

— and you answer the call

(Dreamsleep: July, 2024)

A rainbow on my shoulder

as storm clouds lie ahead

I stop and wonder ‘why go on’

the rain beyond my tread

Halted from my wandering

a stillness reappears

The world to spin and trap in place

surrounding me with fear

My rainbow slowly dimming

its pot of gold has gone

And in its place a darkness comes

the shadows growing long

But far off in the distance

the sky a new portend

Calling out in vibrant hues

— to walk that way again

(Dreamsleep: June, 2024)

Can we ever own

anything

that won’t own us back

Can we ever say

anything

we’ll never retract

Can we dream

in the future

while freeing the past

Can we give

without taking

not first ever last

Can the reasons

become us

excuses be damned

Can fidelity

triumph

the truth in demand

When sleep

reawakens

its light shining through

Today and

tomorrow

— forever anew

(The New Room: June, 2024)