Many Thanks

 

-------Many Thanks-------

 

On a warm day

on the edge of Winter

 

I offer my praise

to the Sun

 

Aside the Maple

whose sap is rising

 

And the Songbirds 

sharing their song.

 

-------

 

La Push

 

-------La Push-------

 

A guest on the edge of Quileute land

where the forest meets 

the sea

 

I look 

into the west,

toward the red sun

 

And the place 

my people 

came here from.

 

A long time ago we did belong.

Part, with rivers 

and with the trees,

 

In a great story many 

generations

in the making,

 

The breaking 

of which 

has become a goal of conquest.

 

A guest

on the edge 

I stand

 

With one foot 

occupying 

stolen land

 

And one 

in the ocean 

that connects us all

 

Through time 

and space,

to stories and place

 

Where still  

we each

belong.

-------

 

Soul Music

 

-------Soul Music-------

 

It is not a day 

on a calendar 

 

That will, 

I tell you, tell me 

that it is Spring.

 

For it is 

the shifting of light

 

And songs

and seeds stirring 

in the belly of this Earth

 

That wake me 

from Winter's dream.

 

Oh, authorities, 

how they try 

to box life in.

 

And, yet, 

the sweet meander

 

That is the river 

of our 

soul

 

Will never straighten 

and never dry

 

So long 

as we fight 

and listen.

 

-------

 

Just Seeds

 

-------Just Seeds-------

 

Inside the garden 

I remember patience

 

And in the forest,

courage 

and care.

 

Just as the seeds,

resting in Winter,

 

Remind

the hopeless 

that hope is there.

 

-------

Rumble

 

-------Rumble-------

 

I was not taught, as a child, 

how to pray.

 

For the church 

had set 

 

A sour taste

within my family's mouth.

 

It was 

unknown to me

 

That beneath 

those marble floors

 

Were centuries 

of praise 

 

Planted like seeds 

into the earth

 

And in the 

water of the springs.

 

I was alone 

in a way,

 

Without a language 

to walk in

 

The world 

beyond myself.

 

But 

I have stumbled.

 

And head down 

on the ground

 

I can hear those seeds 

rumble,

 

Turning,

and humbled 

 

I find 

my feet again

 

Upon 

the Earth

 

I pray.

 

-------

Spirit of Revolt

 

-------Spirit of Revolt-------

 

I do not 

believe 

in right and wrong

 

In a morality 

of deservedness.

 

There is too much violence 

possible 

in that.

 

I prefer, instead, 

to orient,

 

In a spirit of revolt,

 

Toward love 

and ways 

which break the boxes

 

That doctrines 

have put us in.

 

-------

 

Slow Dance

 

-------Slow Dance-------

 

"Be still

a moment.

 

Let 

the season

catch up.

 

Peace in life

is not a place one gets to

 

But moving, 

rather,

in rhythm with the Earth.

 

And Winter," I

remind myself,

 

"Is a slow

dance

all its own."

 

-------