in my down time i read and it is sometimes with great wonder that i pick a book out of the blue and am rewarded with a treasure such as this. i try to read all my non-fiction books or at least flip thru them. but this book i read after it sat on my shelf for 3 or 4 years it is called Crystal Woman "The Sisters of Dreamtime". it was published in 1987. i bought it because i collect non-fiction and any old or ancient knowledge be it foreign or domestic. Anyway i thought this was more of a spiritual properties of crystals and rocks reference guide but it was about a woman's journey to the land down under and the time she spent with some of the medicine women there. once i got past the first chapter i could not put this book down and it was actually close to the end that i found this poem at the end of a chapter. there is a reference to the MIWOK INDIANS in it. i am MIWOK. there is nothing that sticks out in any history book about the people of my tribe. we were acorn gatherers and lived under the giant redwoods in northern california. maybe 3 years ago the federal government restored our recognition as a tribe. that is like they gave us back our skin...like we were invisible before or something. yosemite was ours and in 1971 me and my sister were given a check for under 800 dollars for a payment of some sort for what they took. the lawyers were the one who got rich. i never met a miwok i wasn't related too. and since i was adopted and moved immediately to hawaii-it was years and years before i met my biological grandma. i do know the women in my tribe seem to have mustaches lol. the only thing i have ever found was an old document that says...in 1579 Sir Francis Drake was greeted by the Miwok Indians. so imagine my surprise and wonder when i read the words after all the trips to the library trying to find anything related to my culture (before internet that is)
WOUNDS ARE SHADOWS
GREAT HEAPS OF DARK
SPACE.
BETWEEN TWO VALLEYS
TREES SWIM LIKE RIVERS
ORCHESTRATED IN WIND.
OLD MAN AND DRAGON
CLOUDS RIDE SHOTGUN
ON BLUE NORTHERN SKY.
VERY FEW HAVE BEEN HERE.
TURKEY BUZZARD, WHITE-TAILED DEER,
MIWOKS A HUNDRED YEARS AGO.
THE VOID IS LIKE THIS CENTERING PLACE.
BEYOND WOUNDS IT IS A CANAL
OF BIRTH
DEEP INTO UNCHARTED AVENUES
WHERE A PATH OF TRUTH COVERED
WITH OVERGROWN LIES
ATTENDING TO THE RESERVOIR OF DUST
by Jack Crimmins
1 comment:
This is a profound poem, and I think it stimulated the following:
The Dark Stone
(for Jack Crimmins)
There in the path, it waits
The dark stone, in the center–
The place we hoped never to arrive.
Life is littered with so many losses,
Dark stones, scattered in the fields and paths,
Betrayals by death, dishonesty, disappointment.
What happens if we meet that stone with wonder,
Walk to its cruel center, sit in its
Sorrowful presence?
Here, yes here, in the heart of
Fear, disillusion, chaos and
Confusion, peace arrives, a soft surprise.
- Rebecca del Rio
Post a Comment