Image from the internet, print by Kloss.
On Christmas Eve,
About four in the afternoon,
The sun is already low in the sky,
We go to Taos Pueblo,
The oldest Pueblo in the Southwest,
The adobe buildings have been inhabited
Over one thousand years.
It's always freezing cold,
We gather together for warmth,
And anticipation.
The procession of the virgin.
Catholicism is intertwined with ancient,
American Indian beliefs.
The procession circles the plaza,
And the people light the bonfires,
The War-chiefs in colorful blankets,
Are out front,
Shooting off their guns.
Children singing,
Rattles and drums.
I have heard people describe it as hell,
But for me it is a very transportive ceremony.
It is definitely a reminder that there is another way.
Something deep within,
Something hard to reach,
Something else,
Something personal and unique,
Something ancient, old,
Something sometimes called the soul.
It is a life changing experience
And I am grateful to the People of the Taos Pueblo!
3 comments:
magical writing..
you make people wonder..
:)
Happy Holidays.
A good tribute that, shall I say to the tradition and the ancient wisdom..
I envy your ability to take part in such a tradition. And it is your own soul that finds your own experience there. Especially love this:
Something deep within,
Something hard to reach,
Something else,
Something personal and unique,
Something ancient, old,
Something sometimes called the soul.
Elizabeth
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