Whirlwind of a rainbow, blind eye of the storm.
Keeper of the bear lodge, brave heart soon to rest.
Never have I seen the clouds like this, never have I seen the river white caps whipped so, such rare light marking off in sacred four directions.
Rarely does the rain taste like tears.
Tonight my heart is breaking, yet bursting with gratitude – such dichotomy is the stuff of growth and pain.
Life gives us this and more, and in death the reminder of how short and sweet and tumultuous and tender this gift is.
…the storm shall soon pass, with it that kind-hearted Whirlwind and in doing so will leave us all the better for knowing him.
We sit, still in ceremony with all of you. Prayers are felt.
For you who know where I sit tonight, I cannot describe the quality of the light of setting sun on the storm clouds.
(We listen) to the wind whip around the house and he laughs! Fitting to go out in a storm he says… The spikes of light in the cardinal points, something very surreal about it all…
My love to everyone in the down south lodge.
Here in the north it’s become a powerful night.
I found this lovely, incredibly moving tribute posted by Kristen Andrews somewhere on Facebook a while ago. Such beautiful words, such heart wrenching imagery, such love and beauty — it makes my heart ache.