To Reach Beyond. Ojibway poem
Lament :
This black night covers swiftly
silts blue and rose,
becomes pewter, obsidian.
Run from the dark!
Nowhere to go!
Flung particles of day
spark ebony night.
I see round-fire arise.
Its ice-fire is warm;
I am cold, I am so cold.
My eyes burn with watching
through this teardrop night.
Transplanted :
I step my days as
stalking stealthy forests.
I walk concrete streets
in moccasioned heart.
I stand a moment on an
architectural patch of green
misted by boy/pitcher
pouring water...
my thirsty roots delve,
these - invisible threads -
to inner earth,
entwine new life,
draw deep
the breath of mother.
Then I go.
Progression :
Facade upon my face, I sit alone.
Sunshafts stab my thought of home.
Across my desk I lean to warmth,
watch this clock that does not move.
My fingers rustle papers,
as I yearn, and cling
to whishing wind in mountain pine,
those pinon scented hours.
I shall be free again...someday...
.
In explanation of 'To Reach Beyond'.
With a distant Ojibway Indian heritage, my poem reaches back to a part of history that held hardship, sorrow, and at times injustice. However, amid the progression of Time, societal change, and with rapidly increasing technology; with a personal responsibility of workmanship and success...a heart never forgets the heritage of home.
The engagement of our young minds in constant re-happenings of Nature, those of sorrow and death, some of grandiose beauty, those indelible touches on a heart, all effect life as we walk on unending personal journeys. That interaction of Nature and human mind, so prevalent in an Indian heritage for example, will remain a part of us...forever. On the basis of foundational childhood experiences, the adult molts again and again into the interesting and kinetic being that shall ever be, continually progressing, never ceasing to exist.
Perhaps we all long for some solace from the past. Only as we face our truths of life past and present, can we accept, learn, change, and appreciate treasures that may be ours alone.
