"genuine admiration for the honesty, emotional power, and verbal skill of the poetry"


                                                                                                       Malcomn Margolin

                                                                                                           Heyday Books

                                                                                                                                    Moments

 

Sage burns in an abalone shell

Smoke spirals to heaven

My thoughts are on a mission

For things to think about

There are many stories to write

But this hummingbird has me on its wings

What happens now will not happen

Again as it is happening

I will not be remembered sitting here

Caught in this cross-fire of solitude

The smoke spiraling to heaven

Will not ascend this way again

Shadows moving across the ground

Have neither tongues nor eyes

 

 

                                                                               Tri-me

 

I wait for the phone to ring

A call they will come

Bring the new pow-wow drum

They want me to pray over

Near noon the sky is brilliant

The storm that ravaged the last two days

Travels south of the valley

 

In this small space made into a room

I sit back on the bed

To collect my thoughts:

I live in three worlds

Was raised in three

 

In a white world

But I’m not white

In a Mexican menagerie

But I’m not from Mexico

In fragmented indigenous ways

That set me in motion many years ago

To revive and keep alive

This is where I feel connected

I am Yaqui/Tarascan

In these three worlds I travel

Have traveled

That I may live

That I may continue to exist

But my spirit sings with the old ones

 

Seeing there before me

Two hand drums on a plastic shelf

I see what is left of a way of life

Still in silence

I gaze at them

Heartbeats of the people

And from deep within

Like the rush of a snowmelt current

My eyes flood

 

I look out the window

See a hawk on a telephone pole

The phone rings

I rise

Dry my eyes

Answer Yes

Bring the drum

                                              

 

 

 

 

                                                                   Guidance

 

Many elders have crossed over

Their guidance is a deep loss

Some people have held sacred their teachings

Continue to walk in those ways

Teach the young

Help their communities

Give back

Then there are the others

Seeking status, fame, profit

Who pervert the sacred ways

Want everything NOW

Became mystical in their thinking

Their medicine non - existent

A new generation wants to connect

With the Good Red Road the Elders walked

Who will guide them

In the ways of the ancestors?

                                                               

                                                              

 
 
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