Protector

It's made of what used to be living.
The spirit drums there still
As does the maker's.

Was it worth that rabbit's life
To protect my living space
And to help its companions on my wall
To guard my precious tell tale dreams?
My ancestors thought so.

Could they send it to protect me;
To bundle me in their furs against the biting coldness evil?

It's a different time
But the frame is full circle It's all symmetrical
And the ocean's centered streak Is my own creation,
So that I am a part of it, It is a part of me.

Tresses, wooden beaded ends, I let it sing.