Mama came from the sand dunes and ocean winds of Point Reyes, CA one afternoon. She spoke in Ayla's ear what was to be transcribed.
lyrics
Move alone, move alone, my sweet darling do not cry – Mama dear, I can't hear, your heartbeat faint and to me near – Little child, little child, lay your body close to me – Mama sweet, where we meet, is warm as womb is comforting – Daughter mine, lay in'twined, and listen close to how I speak… I am rushing wood, woodrush rivering, I am body, bone, and dust to wind, storm of sea, wave unraveling – where the raven flies I will lie, floating wavering and gracefully crashing the sand into mountains… Ant upon my chest you will run, you will rest, you will pile up your pillars made of me who blows them down – can you fathom deep that unseen, can you trust in this the fruits I yield, I yield to you to shape them… How to shape… how… How to shape... how… Child lay your body, listen deep, there's a heartbeat in the step that you take, that you choose, that you listen to – suit your self with skin, scurry quickly toward the undertow and over it all is a blanket of breathing – Catch upon your tongue, pawn the speaking for the turning of the inner ear to silence and the rising of the tone in bells of pebbled wind and the sigh of the stillness of the pond you float upon, as a cloud to the rainstorm – Sun to me is mother is to you, I was made to grow these blowing and receding gusts of wind and lust and wave , and only if I'm trampled bare and cold, will my arms cease to hold you, only when I cease to be, only if I cease…
credits
from Floating Felt,
released February 4, 2009
photo by Daniel Steinbock
Ayla Nereo is a creature of forests and rivers, a bridger of timeless and modern, a musician and poet weaving a magical and
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