Elders where are you?
where is the cloak
you could wrap around me
where I see stars
and a dark glowing world
who has made me?
Where are the soft and arresting words
who sound as if they are sounding
from the grasses bowing
or sound
like they’ve listened to the wind long before ever being spoken?
The words that let in love
and yet call me into
how I can do better
how we can do better
I need your old hand
to touch my heart
so i can know your old hands
through my hands
as they become old
touching my own heart
and the hearts
of my children
Who will help me bury you
who can ask questions
of you
and know that something of the world and its beautiful laws
will be held in the story of you
Where are you Elders
where is the pride
towards the wrinkles who yawn and stretch
across your smile?
The smile who sings of the gift
that was all of that pain
and all of that forgiveness
and then
teaches me the song
so I can sing the song of gifts to my children
who are helping me bury you
who can know
the Earth is a garden of earthed beings
singing the song
of gifts
Elders we need you
to sing the song of gifts
get out of the way
and let the great arc of the world bend
around you
Elders, we need you to be taken into
the bending arc of the world who grows like a branch
trusting the openness of sky
I need you to watch me weep
while the branches of the world
while the Cedar and Pine, the Sumac
devour you
I need you to watch me weep
and tell me how beautiful I am
and then remind me of the song of Gifts
Remind me with the voice who has long listened to the wind
who has long sung to the branches
and knows how to tell me
that your going away
is the song of gifts
Sing to me, Elder
I need you to sing to me.
—
Devlin Edgar Flynn is a sound worker, professional musician, death doula and poet. Through the prism of language and the voice, he longs to serve in creating a culture that is deeply in service to the animate forces and the ancestors. Based in Montreal, Devlin provides sound healing and experimental experiences within various communities.
