SHAMAN'S STAFF

For Daniel Gheorghe 

The full moon after the equinox promises to solve the staff problem. The morning in the fountain lays the tracks for searching. The trees must be down already. Their spirit must await me. The dog leads the way and I feel my hands becoming those of a carpenter’s. Two staffs are found, one migrant one vibrant. The peel comes off easily. The tools are perfect for this, even though this is not a place where I expect to find such things. The job is done after hours of hand-work outside in the winter sun. Time to test the staffs. The Tuva singers Huun-Huur-Tu already spot the staffs’ powers while I finish their smooth surface off with olive oil. The winds gather. The spirit of 40 gathers. The underground answers the shaman’s call after the beat. This is when I notice that the short and thinner staff is heavier than the tall and thicker staff. Spirit work has a different type of gravitas than we normally know of. The staffs are milky and pure, and my thoughts go out to the one who gets it.