Spirit of the Wind

Spirit Of The Wind
by Brooke Medicine Eagle

Spirit of the Wind carry me
Spirit of the Wind carry me home
Spirit of the Wind carry me home to myself

Spirit of the Ocean, depth of emotion
Spirit of the Sea, set myself free
Spirit of the Wind carry me home to myself

Spirit of the Rain, wash away the pain
Spirit of the Storm, help me be reborn
Spirit of the Wind carry me home to myself

Spirit of the Sun, warm light healing me
Spirit of the Sky, spread my wings and fly
Spirit of the Wind carry me home to myself

Spirit of the Earth, help me with my birth
Spirit of the Land, hold me in your hand
Spirit of the Wind carry me home to myself

Spirit of the River, blessed forgiver
Spirit of the Shore, shows me more and more
Spirit of the Wind carry me home to myself

Yesterday, in the late afternoon, my partner and I stood in my driveway saying goodbye to our friend who had just dropped my son off after a weekend visit. I was in a rush to get packing for our camping trip this week and was anxious to get back to work so we could head back to our lake house for a swim. Suddenly, in the midst of our thank-you's and goodbye's, we heard a flutter of activity and the sounds of playing robins screeching above our heads.

I looked up to see a very large bird land in the branch of the pine tree in my yard. A barred owl! It perched on the big tree looking down at us. We called for the children to come to see! That wise messenger of magic and intuition stared at each of us with its dark, knowing eyes. What a blessing!

Along came the fun and playful robins and the barred owl flew across the street. We ran to follow it's path. My son, Seamus caught sight of it and after a few moments it swooped its majestic self back to the other side of my yard, higher up this time but in perfect view like a guardian of the dream time realm and in turn looked each of us in the eyes.

Besides a quick flash of flying wings on a back road here and there, I've only seen an owl once before. In the autumn of 1995, I was pregnant with my son. I was the Mother Goddess.

On my mid-day break I went to the back porch to rest. I worked in a beautiful, old farmhouse in Hollis, NH for a lovely couple named Toby & Richard. Overlooking the back yard was a giant tree and in it, an owl. The owl swooped down to catch a mouse. I was awe-struck and felt I had been given a great blessing to have finally seen my favorite bird in the world.

Now again, to have it visit my own home, to bring its energy of magic and mystery, I am truly grateful and graced by the Spirit of the Land and Goddess.

"What Goddess was known for having an owl by her side?" my friend Lez asked his son, Michael. Michael was not sure. Seamus, my son, answered, "Artemis." "It's Athena," said Lez. "The owl is the messenger of wisdom," he continued. I shared that I have always associated owl medicine with wisdom, too, as well as with intuition as the owl has the ability to see through the dark, through the night. It's deeply penetrating eyes can see straight into the soul of us to what is really going on within.

I told Michael about a book we have called, "Animal Speak" by Ted Andrews. We decided to take a look inside to see what messages it had for us.

In addition to wonderful information on various owls and it's association with wisdom and intuition, it said that owl is sometimes thought of as the reincarnation of the dead.

My son did lose his biological father last Wednesday, July 2. When I saw the owl almost 13 years ago, I was certain that it was my Ancestors and Spirit Guides speaking to me. I would dream of his Mic Mac grandmother and aunt ~ both long-ago-deceased ~ and other groups of Native Americans cooking and sharing food together. They were telling me they would watch over Seamus and I and that I should not worry.

Have they returned with this message of comfort and protection again? Looking over us through the deep eyes of the barred owl? Whether or not this is the case, I felt a strong presence of Spirit and of Love from All That Is when I saw that barred owl yesterday afternoon, in the stillness of almost-dusk.

"I wonder if it will come back," I said to my partner, this morning. "It will when you need it," she said, comfortingly.