Shannon Woode

The Keepers
    Circling the Source                                    sold

 And She Called Down to Me
Remember That Day
Keepers of the Land                                          

After all the words
have been spoken
and all the songs 
have echoed the full distance of the hills,
hold the silence 
lightly in your fingertips 
and you will be
the keeper 
of the promise that remains.

Stand With Me                          sold
The Gate Keeper                       sold
Sister                                         sold
Promise Keeper                       sold

The Rising                                                           sold
Keepers of the Light               sold

Give her soul a voice and it will
sing you the notes of
a thousand flutes rising in
mists from the land and
falling back in
strands of light that
reach down to join 
the rising chorus.
From the center of the belly
is the place where flows a source.
Lifting up through roots of the mother.
Sending out life
and receiving death
It runs the length and circles around.
Drawing you into new birth
here on this ancient ground.

The ancient ground has found us standing together-
      looking up to waiting skies.
Waiting for the sun to press against our warming skin-
      bring us both out of this  night that we have kept.
Waiting for the wind to lift our hair and leaves-
      exposing our belly where we will stand vulnerable.
Waiting for the rain to land lightly at first- 
      bathe our outstretched arms in rivers of renewal.
This ancient ground has found us standing together-
      to keep the vigil on this day that awaits the hours of the living.

To believe once more.

Will you be her keeper in this hour?
To sing her through with songs that remember.
The ways of the land and the winds that blew over.
The ones that told the seasons to come again.
Told of saplings that grew from roots held deep.
Nourished by the wisdom of our grandmothers soil.
Her likeness now covered over with burrows of moss.
Will you be the keeper in this hour of her returning?
And remember the songs she knew?
There is a place beyond where lies
The remaining story 
You can glimpse and imagine
Through the slats of the gate
And the keeper knows
The only things that are for sure
Are those which have been trodden.