QU’APPELLE AND ESL
(Cree – Kah-tep-was “The river that calls”)
They come today
from countries far away
to learn this country’s
names for river, lake, and tree
There was a time
the natives of this land
sat in braided fear
learning to forget them
KENDRA
When the natives of this land
suffered a death such as this
they knew how to grieve
They felt it to the depths of their being
and cut deep into their arms and legs
that they might reach deeper
Today my great friends
I reach and bleed with you
Written for my cousin Kenny and his wife Betty on the tragic loss of their eighteen year old daughter
MANIWAKI MOON
Through the sacred fire at the sacred lake
by the tree twice lightning struck
sacred tobacco and sacred cedar
burned in a sacred way
We circle and leave by the Eastern door
BLACK HILLS OF DAKOTA
The red man mines his life for irony
while the white man tears the earth for iron
But treaties protect the sacred stones
as long as rivers flow and grass grow
Paper covers rock
in the Black Hills of Dakota
Gold in the Black Hills, end of treaty
Scissors cut paper
in the Black Hills of Dakota
But sacred stones outlive them all
Rock breaks scissors
in the Black Hills of Dakota
THE HANGED MAN
White hands red
with the blood of eighty
million red men dead
With a soul
that’s been through a Sioux or two
Upside down on a tarot card
hanging between the worlds
THOUGHTS TO PONDER – a story from the internet
An old Native American grandfather was talking to his grandson about how he felt about the tragedy (9-11) and what should be done.
He said “I have two wolves fighting in my heart. One wolf is the vengeful, angry, violent one. The other wolf is the loving compassionate one.”
“So,” asked the grandson, “which wolf will win the fight in your heart?”
“The one that I feed,” answered the grandfather
ROBIN
Robin is a pelican
she flies with perfect grace
swims with perfect grace
moves with perfect grace
Pelicans swim with Robin as a sister
pelicans are very old and wise
they know a pelican
can be a beautiful woman
Humans are not so wise
but there is a way to know
if a beautiful woman is a pelican
Robin is a pelican
when she opens to feed you
you can taste her heart
PELICAN PROJECT SALUTE
You are the pelican warriors
You are the pelicans who do not run away
you are the pelicans that stay and fight
you are the pelicans that defend your nests
you are the pelicans that defend your tribe
You are the pelicans
who fly from your homes to find a new lake
You are the pelicans
brave enough to fly near people
(it can be dangerous to fly near people)
You are the pelicans
brave enough to fly through your fears
You are the pelicans
who know some people are your friends
who know some people need your gifts
You are the pelicans
who teach pelicans and people
how to care for their young
how to live for their tribe
How to fly and dance and swim
and fish together again
I dip my ink tipped wing
in praise of you
I AM A PELICAN
I have flown over the dinosaurs dying
through the ash of the meteors crashing
I have swam in the ice floes melting
I have eaten the first fish walking
I have felt the poles a shifting
in the magnets in my head
I have seen the white man and the red
I have seen the old wives dead
I have felt the pull of the settlers need
and tasted the poisons of their greed
I have heard the earth a groaning
I have felt the earth in pain
I have seen the Rainbow Warriors
dance the vision back again
And I fly and swim and wait
and pray they’re not too late
THE PELICAN PROJECT
In July 2000 New Dance Horizons in Regina
Saskatchewan put together a presentation for
“Dance and the Child International”
It consisted of dance, song and poetry
performed by about thirty young people
many from Canada’s “First Nations”
I had the privilege of coaching and guiding
them as they wrote their own poems
Following are some poems that I wrote
for samples of metaphor, and for the awe and
respect I felt for their talent and their courage
Also, I was totally star struck by the grace and
beauty of Robin, the director and dance
instructor who goes around quoting Neruda
and holds my disowned love of movement
so wrote poems for and about her as well