top of page
  • Kenneth Cohen

Syowen Spirit Cry Poem

The cry is an obsidian blade That pierces this reality. It cuts open a window Into the dream time.

My suffering is unavoidable; I must release the pain of separation-- of speaking instead of singing. I must release the pain of limitation. I must release even my self. I cry, and the Creator pities me.

I have shed my human form; I have entered the Bear Robe. I look at you but cannot see you Unless you have prayed yourself into existence.

12 views0 comments
bottom of page