Mikisew Earth, Air, Water, and Fire
In stones are the footprints of my ancestors.
Walk softly and see if your foot fits those impressions.
As the branches of the Jack Pines brush against you,
feel the outreaching arms of those grandmothers
attempt to touch you, the new gift, to the people.
They have prayed for you to come here, to leave
your own imprints here where land is holy.
Breathe deeply of the fern and moss and birch and pine.
The air you take in has been breathed before.
On this air are the songs of my people, the moans,
the gentle prayers and praise that such as you should come.
Come, it says, cross-breathe with us and let our history,
fill your lungs and muscles and cells and soul
with the thousand stories of bravery and courage,
with sorrow and soft caution to remember we are a people
of peace and longing for a separateness from a world
that would have all we are, rub us out and choke the life
from our customs and our language that tells the stories.
Set your paddle on the skin of Athabasca
and the watery arms that will pull you home.
Let the amniotic cradle of the canoe rock you,
take you through this land like dream-walking
and be renewed by the fresh bath of mist and motherly
wash that removes the clinging sediments of these days.
Cup your hands and drink the sacrament of unpolluted water,
give offerings of tobacco to bless those
that have pulled their way up this stream of belief
that staying tucked away where strangers could not easily come
to dam and damage our ways and land and peace-seeking hearts.
Set the fire tipi in a quiet meadow near the sweet grass ponds.
Feed it herbs, sacred fungus, and your prayers
for those who lit the places of prayers before you,
those who will need those prayers tomorrow
when you are not here to make such meaningful moves
to remember who you are, who we are, what peace we sought.
Seek a way to have this all again,
in a new way, in this new world where earth is oil,
air is carrying a thousand pollutants of negativity,
water gives our secrets away and leaves a trail
to the outside places and the inside holy pools
that are yet to be found, and the charred remains
of our yesterdays will speak of what fire can do
when it carries prayers for peace. Let no pain
push us under, take our breath away, drown the spirit
of survival, or burn our ancient memories. Peace.
Let there be peace for what came before, what comes now,
what comes after. It is our way. It is the way for all.
Author notes
I am Mikisew Woodland Cree from Alberta Canada.
www.mikisew.org/chip-photos.html
Written July 13th, 2006
In a list
A contest entry
- Fields of Barley (CONTEST) by Red Red Rose.
400 points, ended July 25, 2006, 9 entries
Silver trophy winner
• next poem in this contest, remove from contest
What did you think
Comments
1 - 12 of 12
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heartfelt congratulations to your silver-trophy, dear one.
how wonderful.
marion -
Congratulations! This is a fine poem, filled with hope and peace. ~~ tnk
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Hooray for you, shewolf! ... an excellent poem fully deserving of accolades and trophies!
Toni
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This is beautiful and I vote for the gold on this one.
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thsi comes from my very heart...it is the single most important thing to me. all I am hnges on the fact that I knwo who I am, honor that, so that it might honor me.
Thank you, my friend. -
What can I say,except this prayer is heartful,passionate and an important piece if I must say so.And I most certainly do too. I'd expect nothing short of exceptional from you my friend.And this is exceptional in it's message and hopefulness.Beautiful piece .The best yet in message delivery.~~Suseann
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thank you, my friend...my heritage is so important to me. I hpe to be able to send this to them.
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Shewolf this is incredibly beautiful, so rich in the layers and customs. Words here pale to what I have just read from you. I hope too, that peace can find us. Great job!
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there are times when a poem simply writes itself. If I am on the right track, the poem comes as fast as I can type it with few changes. When my fingers trip ont he keys, it is a given I will make a typo seomwhere, but the spirit of the poem is there. I do nto knwo how I write so many other than the fact that I am truly a soul person and it has a gnawing need to be written.
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Very descriptive and peaceful. When all is said and done, your last stanza inspires a calm resolve that is very difficult to capture, in living, let alone words. Very nice.
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Very beautiful and inspiring poem. Lovely description of nature. How do you do it so beautifully? Thanks for sharing.
Shakti -
My heritage is so important to me because I was a captured baby. I have worked hard to find my roots and to learn beyond the history, the geography and to learn the spiritual.
Thank you for this contest and thank you for honoring Native American people.
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