Broken Silence by Ryan Pedersen
Invocation: Roar of an Unknown Shaman
by Laurie Schaad
Deep in my molten core I hear you call,
Oh overarching ONE, Creator of all life.
Your wordless call leads me down,
Into this holiest of caves,
Into this vast and silent, pulsing womb of earth.
Impenetrable darkness covers all.
Then fire, in answer to my hand that strikes the flint,
Appears, and flares.
Light and life and shadowed form are born.
Standing here, as shadows dance,
I rise up, roaring;
Roaring out the soul’s true song
Until it passes through the walls of the Mother’s earthen womb
To reach the sky above the highest mountains,
Waiting there, outside.
My song, my roar,
Goes on and on,
Connecting me to all that is, all that will be,
All that has ever been.
Hear me now, oh Waiting World,
And tremble, as a fern frond trembles,
Opening to light and life as it unfolds!
I, a mere man,
Playing the part of the mightiest of beasts,
A lion cast in human form,
Call out now,
Roaring to the blazing desert sun!
Roaring to the cool light of the moon!
Across all time and space, I roar,
Giving voice to the center of the center of the center
Of the whole and holy living ONE.
My call goes forth again,
Shaking the very earth I stand upon!
My cry now feeds and fortifies
The Mother’s living soul,
Renewing her and all her fading forms of light and life,
Calling them back
To their true fierce and primal sweetness,
Back even from the brink of death.
Again I cry, as all the life force rises up within me,
Hear me, my Beloved Ones!
And now, at last,
And begins to hear!
As newfound hearing reaches out to me in answer to my call,
Shackles that have kept me bound fall broken at my feet,
Some wild and fragrant beauty locked within my heart,
As it has long been locked away in all of humankind,
Is now…set free.
My roar gains strength from all who hear!
It reaches out strong fingers now,
Fingers of song that touch and bless all winged ones,
And all those who are clothed in scales and fins,
And those who creep and crawl upon this sacred earth,
Or travel on four legs, or two, or one, or none;
All those who move upon their bellies,
Or are rooted in the Earth herself,
And those whose form is made of one lone cell, or just a few.
All grains of sand; all stone; all wind and rain; all clouds, all fog;
All form; all life.
To All That Is I roar this mighty song that waits in silent slumber
Deep within the fabric of all life:
The Song of the Awakening;
The Song of Glad Reunion;
The Song that lives within the heart of every song.
It is for this that I have come;
It is for this that I was born!
For I am Voice,
Created to cry out to all:
Be that which you are, and be it boldly,
Freely as the moon, a tree, a hawk, an ocean breeze!
Rejoice in simply being whom and what you are!
Sing the song that is yours alone to sing,
Until the sound of all our songs leads us,
Cloaked in Mystery and Awe,
And washed in the tears of ancient Grief,
Back to the beloved and most holy Mother of all earthly life;
Back to the love and light of Earth herself.
As loving and beloved children gladly run back home,
We all, hand in hand,
And hand in hoof and wing and paw,
Will soon return,
Back to the joy-filled, many-chambered
Heart and Family and Home
Where we were born;
Where we are known;
Where we unendingly
Laurie Schaad and Ryan Pedersen were paired for the Word and Image project at the Hoffman Center