The Cahokia Mounds were created by a complex Native American culture that failed and passed into history some five hundred years before Europeans were known to have arrived in the Americas. Their history and many details can be found if you click on the link I've provided here. However, this post isn't about the details or history of that place, famous and sacred as it is. It is about something that happened when I went there in the Summer of 2004.
I wrote a poem of the experience, you can find it here:
Prayers in Places Of Power...
First, I knew beforehand that we were going there. My wife had wanted to visit the place for years. This particular Summer, we planned our excursion and went.
The Universe provided many of the elements necessary for the trip along the way. I won an award for exceptional service at work, one of the rewards was several nights of free hotel rooms, so our lodgings were free. I was also inspired to perform a ritual there from shortly before we left, so I had everything I needed When we arrived. The weather was perfect for the drive and for our visit to the Mounds.
We arrived at the Cahokia Mounds late in the day, late afternoon in August. As we were walking up to the largest mound, Monk's Mound as it is now called, we saw several people coming back down. They were of all different races and descriptions. All were smiling, friendly, greeting us with kindness as we passed them on the footpath. It was like they were sharing something with us - which they were. The energy was right, perfect, even.
Monk's Mound is HUGE. The base of Monk's Mound covers more land area than any other monumental structure ever built by humans. It covers fourteen and one-half acres of ground. At 300 feet or so high, it's nowhere near the tallest monument of ancient humanity, but it covers more ground than any of the Great Pyramids. It is a sacred place if ever I've felt one.
Monk's Mound
After climbing the stairs to the top, it was nearing sunset, but not quite. The sky was clear and blue, just getting dim in the distant East. The setting was perfect. After getting my bearings and looking around, I began what I had envisioned the day before we left home.
Lighting a fine cigar, I faced West, toward the lowering Sun. Blowing the sacred tobacco smoke up toward Heaven, I recited the following prayer: "Heal the Earth, heal Mankind, in perfect ways, in perfect time." I repeated this three times facing West, each time taking a puff of the cigar and wafting the smoke upwards.
I faced the Cold North, repeating three times the prayer: "Heal the Earth, heal Mankind, in perfect ways, in perfect time."
I faced the Indigo East, repeating three times the prayer: "Heal the Earth, heal Mankind, in perfect ways, in perfect time."
I faced the Warm South, repeating three times the prayer: "Heal the Earth, heal Mankind, in perfect ways, in perfect time."
After the final repetition, the cigar was nearly done. I put it out, and scattered the remaining tobacco on the wind, which was blowing slightly from the East, most unusual. The tobacco went back to Mother Earth.
After releasing the tobacco, I looked up at the sky in the South. In the clear blue sky, a high, thin cross of cloud had formed, splitting the sky into four blue quadrants. In the Northwest quadrant of the cross, very near the center, I saw a cloud shape, perfectly clearly. It was a Thunderbird with Coyote riding on it's back. My wife also saw it clearly. It looked for all the world like the classic Thunderbird totem you see all the time. There was not another cloud in the sky, just this spectacular formation.
About a year later, I asked the great-grandson of a Sequoia chieftan what the vision meant. He replied that "for the two of them to show up together like that, it means that your prayer has been heard, and found acceptable."
In my heart, I knew then that the world would, in perfect ways and in perfect time, find healing and peace.
Thank you for reading as always. If you find yourself so inspired, please repeat this prayer in your own tradition.
Dan
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