Indigenous Mind: A Four-Part Excursion Into The Wild Depths Of Nature and Psyche

1
Feral are the leaves on the forked path.
Feral are the owls of the midnight sanctuary.
Feral are the claws, seen and hidden.
Feral are the widespread limbs of Nature’s momentous edifice.
Feral coo.
Feral bark.
Feral scamper.
Feral dark.
Feral is the high priest of the forest, desert, mountain, river, and hibernaculum.
Feral is the imperatrix of the green vines, green swamps, and green dreams.
Feral is the king.
Feral is the queen.
Feral is the androgynous one.
Feral is the trickster in the thicket.
Come honor him or her or it.
Honor or enter the chaotic house of an all-pervasive ignorance.
The choice is yours.

2
True vision breathes below the soil of prophecy,
and is carried up by flowers, weeds, and fungi.
Madmen, snake-worshippers, herbalists, healers,
and earth-mothers…eat what has been taken to the surface
by the workers of the root network.
Go totally insane!
Get drunk on the consecrated grace of Nature!
Get ripped to shreds by the demon-hordes,
and let them put your jigsaw puzzle pieces back
together again!
Prostrate yourselves before the Great Tree!
Worship the miracles of the animistic universe!
Do these things so maybe we, the prudish and
stiff-necked, may one day follow your lead.

3
On the other side of the mind,
past the back door and the fence,
beyond the reach of memory,
there is an oasis where impersonal images and
visions intersect.
Some say it’s a nexus of archetypes and energies.
Others say it is where the ancestors sing.
Believe what you want to believe.
Define it as you wish.
Beliefs and definitions aren’t as important as
the odyssey itself.
Language is subsidiary to the exploration of
what lies prior to words.
If you got the courage, break through the
door, jump the fence, strip down naked at the
entranceway to the forest, and divest yourself of all reason.
A half mile into the forest, there is the oasis,
primeval and sublime.

4
The “savage” is not the one who wears
the bear-skin and beats the animal drum.
The “savage” is not the one who tells an ancestral story
in a mud hut.
This is an Occidental misconception.
The savage is the one who eats the forest with
metallic jaws.
The savage is the one who sucks up the earth’s oil
in order to sell it at exorbitant prices.
The savage is the one who kills in the name of religion
with the weapons of science.
Now more than ever, we must turn to the
Indigenous Mind for help.
We must transform our blindness into pellucid vision.
We must shed the skin of ego forever.