Tag: Rob Miller

  • At the Fire

    When folks come together around a campfire…there should be time to just sit quietly and listen. For the songs of the fire are sacred!

    Those songs come from the spirits in the wood. They sing about the sun blinking on and off… they sing about the wind and the rain…they sing about the seasons. Their songs are part of the sacred songs of the Earth…given to us as a reminder of days gone by.

    The history of the wood is in those flames and in those songs…stories of the Earth…which will not be told again in that same way. And that smoke in the tree giving its body back to the Earth…its work is done…and its Spirit rises to leave this place forever.

    Watch that fire…there are Spirits in there…some you know…and some, you have never known. But they are like messengers and are there to explain things to you.

    Campfires give us that opportunity to listen…and to hear those special stories again. Ordinarily we don’t have the patience to understand the way trees speak…the way they form their words…the way they use gestures. Such things are foreign to us and we might be frightened. So they send their messages up with the smoke…and it is sacred…and it is part of our oral traditions.

    So when you are sitting around the campfire with friends…share this wisdom. Encourage others to listen to the songs of the fire; that they might feel that sacred message too…and find that deeper understanding of Earth Mother’s ways.

    Ho Hecetu Welo!

    An unknown Elder

    This story was by Rob Miller at the flute circle/Mitchell Indian Museum

  • I am the tree!

    I am the tree… there is no name for me … I am just the tree!
    My ways are ancient … symbolic of the connections between earth and sky.
    My roots grow deep into the soil; soil that is all that remains of my ancestors.
    It is all that remains … of anyone’s ancestors … and I know them all.
    For I walk barefoot in the soil; and the soil stores the remnants of every creature’s works.
    You are the human … do your roots live among the ancestors … like mine?
    Are you as dependent on … or even aware of … the wisdom of the soil or its long-term memory?

    I am the tree … it is but a word to me … I am just the tree!
    My leaves are held high … eager for the warmth of the sun and a gentle summer rains.
    And I cast my shadows across the meadow … shade for those who would tend my roots and branches.
    A family of Hawks has nested high in my crown …
    That they may teach their young to soar with Grandfather Sky.
    And I am honored for the air exchange we leafed beings … share … with those that have lungs.
    May our needs remain in balance! May our days be many upon this earth!

    I am the tree … no words, just a song for me … I am just the tree!
    Listen for the whispers of my song … carried by the wind at your back.
    There are many such songs in the forest, a different one for each and every physical thing.
    Songs that reveal the secrets hidden in every leaf and rock.
    Songs … like reference libraries … that share all secrets, great and small … worth knowing.
    It is the universal language all things use to communicate, it is the only true language.
    The language of vibrations … songs … still emanating from that very first day!

    I am the tree … I am the song … I am the tree!

    Ho Hecetu Welo!


    contributed by Rob (Wind At His Back) Miller