Winter Ceremonial

Exiled from home, self-imposed I seek riches in death I hurl myself from a cliff Yet my body remains, despite my attempts to leave I dive beneath the lake, and still I will not die Matem, great bird of prey I beseech thee for aid, teach me to fly My body transforms into a white eagle Returned to my home, to find for years I've flown through sky and by feather, my form unfettered Exalted now as the spirit, I gather my slaves on the beach They place my harpoon on the sand And I summon a totem to stand

Now, ghosts, go all to that upper world For great is your wealth in the ground, and great is your fire And many your hot stones Hunter, gatherer, searching for cedar Lost without light, obscured of sight Through fog and trees, possessing the man on his knees Imbued with power Wild man of the woods, beholding suffocated souls Keeper of the drowned, forced to remain Eternal dimension Chief of woodsman, valuing your flesh is a privilege lost Man will never outstare the stars nor death Father awaits me Devour, I must I am bound by my head Spirits awake, insanity and disgust Lunacy, my great escape Renewed humanity I follow the creek, winter falls Unearthly appetite Mussels brim the canoe Stumbling through the pines, darkness calls The brink of starvation I am a ghost, devoid of life

By my gaze, men turn to stone Leaving behind the lives they had known Crashing across the waves from the northlands below The power of my totem-crest my enemies behold Bearing mount to the chosen few Leaving the dead in the wake of the war canoe Power I grant to my favored warriors Fearsome and invulnerable in the face of pain and death I have become wolf-over-man I have become wolf-under-raven Six horns of power surmounting my heads Winalagalis, the legends have said Bringer of Tseka, flanked by the serpents Waging war across the world

The gnashing of teeth and ravenous beaks My spirit reprieved, from flesh released Hamatsa Deep within the woods, I found a house From whose roof billowed red smoke As I approached I heard a voice call out "You must bury him with stones" He who upon man first feasted at the mouth of the river Great cannibal at the north end of the world Magician of death, covered in one million mouths Gnashing at the hearts of all men Red cedar covers my flesh Searching for flesh Searching for skulls Searching for corpses I must feast