In search of the First

From where come these memories of fire?
Why do I still feel the rhythm of the drums in my blood?
When did I first join the hunt?
In my memories the night is silver-dark,
Our lights had yet to shroud the galaxy in darkness,
Who could still see the spirit world.
Strongest of them all was Fire,
We could descend from the skies,
Tear through from the other side,
And set our world ablaze.
We would see his power,
hear his deafening roar ~
And so the hunt would begin.
Shaman would beat the drums,
As we danced in Fire’s presence.
Shaman would call on the ancestors,
Breathing sound into the hollow log.
We would pick up our spears,
Light our torches,
And we’d run.
We ran with Great Two-Horn,
Whose blood would grant us life.

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About Fredrik Kayser

Everything is connected.
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