The mind. A place where thoughts are created, processed, and occasionally given life. All thoughts shake the rattle of life to a certain degree. However mild or however strong it is, depends on the thought’s ability to provoke ideas in the minds of other people. There is no such thing as a person who is ‘simple’ minded. The mind is a strange and complicated galaxy of ideas, especially when it bubbles in the head of a poet. The mind of a poet is a mishmash of sunrises and sunsets, of births and deaths and of all things in between.
I was wondering one day about the mind of a newborn baby. I asked myself, what if anything, is going on in their tiny heads. It was a fascinating exercise.
All human beings are born with a spirit attached to them. The spirit lives in their hearts, where it meticulously records all the good and bad deeds initiated by the person it is connected to. Though the spirit is aware that the newly born human being it is attached to is in great need of physical care, so too does it recognize its own need for nourishment and sustenance. Young children are helpless and will need proper teachings and direction to guide them through life. All will benefit, in all realms, from sweet lullabies and from whispers of love. All will prosper too from the familiar caresses and tear based chuckles of proud parents.
All human beings ever born emerged from the womb surrounded by the energy and spirit of the drum. At birth, the acquirement of the things in their sacred bundle had begun.
All of us know what it is like to hear the heartbeat of a woman. A gentle drumming which spiritually nourished us as we grew in the womb. The heart of a woman, whose body is producing the ‘miracle’ of life is different in sound than is the heart of all other human beings alive on the earth. It is a drumming heard by relatives passed on into the spirit world. Its vibrations are felt by ancestors who lived and died many thousands of years ago. It truly is a sacred sound.
The thought of how the beating of my mother’s heart created the great love, respect and honour I have for my spiritual beliefs, places me on the wings of a raven, soaring over the tallest pines on the highest hills of my homeland.
It was after pondering the mind of a newborn baby that I wrote the poem ‘I Remember the Heartbeat’. If it is your wish, please accept the message of this poem as a gift from South Wind. Enjoy.
I Remember The Heartbeat
by Albert Dumont ©
I was born loving of humankind
Of bird life, of plant life and of colours
I was born loving of the legged
Of the crawlers, of the swimmers and of the wind
I was born loving of the sun
Of the moon, of the stars and of the rocks
I was born loving of the rivers
Of the streams, of the lakes and of the rain
I was born loving of all goodness
For I remember the heartbeat of my mother
Now, I seek, your knowledge and wisdom
Give me teachings to keep fresh
My memories of the heartbeat
For without the inspiration of the heartbeat
My circle would surely shatter
And I would forevermore, be afraid.