Before you die
sit here, snug in my eyes
where love circles you
endless and time-capsuled.
Paint me pictures of you
in shades of words
I have never heard.. before.
Write me letters in the wind
when all I hear is the storm,
leave your kisses in the clouds
to fall like feathers with the rain
Please don’t ask me to explain
Before you die
sit here, snug in my eyes
For Open Link Night at dVerse Poets Pub.
Come join us! Doors open at 3 p.m. EST.
This wild and precious life, you spent lonely
Foraging mushrooms, blackberries…and words
Still you have me pondering not only
On the calm of nature and nature stirred
But on the very essence of each breath
As trees speak my truth in leafy tongues, slurred
The sun meets my skin with every step
And the blue rain beats with my heart, broken
I’ve treasured your thoughts about life and death
Listened to canyons speak the unspoken
I have studied art on the earth’s floor
Weightless as the willows, with mind open
One with the animal spirits, I soar
Your words waxing with the moon evermore
(For Open Link Night and a late response to Jilly’s Enjambment in Sonnets, part of the Poetry Form challenge at dverse Poets Pub.)
Notes: I chose the Terza Rima form for this piece, consisting of a ABA BCB CDC DED EE rhyme scheme, adding a splash of enjambment. Since the thoughts of each tercet often flow into the next, I decided on leaving no line breaks between them. However, it could be edited into defined tercets, ending with the couplet to present it in traditional terza rima form. I would have to admit that the volta is not emphasized. I simply wanted to pay tribute to the late Mary Oliver, her love and insight of nature and how it has resonated with my own perspectives of life.
Has God given up on us? Does he weep?
I listen for him in the moon shadows
Dew droplets at dawn, in earth’s gentle sleep
Where is the light we were born to embrace?
I sift through the compost of dreams rotted
In darkest alleys, I search for His face
Why do we build our own prisons of fear?
Humanity’s keys we hold in our hands
Intentions perish with the silt of tears
Do we have the right to ignore our own hearts?
Were they not the gifts of the righteous souls?
Far be it for us to tear them apart
Stir gently the pot of evolution
Ignite the flame of a resolution
Written for a special Poetry Form prompt at dVerse. Bjorn starts us off with some helpful information on sonnets and some exciting news! Doors open at 3 p.m.EST.
I decided to use the structure of a Terza Rima with 4 tercets and a couplet , but I wandered from the rhyme scheme. Mine is ABA CDC EFE GHG II. Oh my, perhaps I shall stick to free verse?
It was an early phone call for a Saturday. My brother’s caller ID but not his voice. My mother forced words she could not yet comprehend herself. He was gone. I asked where he went.
moonbeams radiate
October sky remembers
flicker of fallen star
For Quadrille Monday at dVerse. Kim has offered us the word “early” for our 44 word poems. This prompt is open all week.
I am a gift
Of celestial descent
Partially unwrapped
Fearful of the flicker fading
Yet terrified of the light
How does one shine in the shadows
Cast of their own caliginous heart?
I am a question
Echoing in canyons barren
Bold and ambiguous
With no right to ask
Shall I wipe pure my thoughts
Bevel my edges
Sound the trumpet
At heaven’s gate
Or simply whisper in wonder
“Who is like God?”
We are writing poems inspired by the origin of our names. Amaya Engleking is our host! Doors open at 3 p.m. at dVerse Poets Pub.
My name is Michelle. I have incorporated two sources : the French meaning, “Gift from God” and the Hebrew origin meaning “Who is Like God?”
Image credit: pixabay.com
For many years, I worked on a First Nations reserve. It was part of my job to become familiar with some of the Ojibway language and culture and to promote it within a daycare setting. Native American customs and spirituality have always intrigued me and still do. The legends and rituals shared with me by my co workers opened my mind to other ways of thinking. I admire the simplicity of thought and their many symbolisms of nature.
While attending a Native Early Childhood conference, I chose a workshop involving an outdoor excursion. We slowly climbed a steep, grassy hill, leaving gifts of tobacco along the way for ” the little people”. At the top we rested on large rocks and meditated on a breathtaking view of the valley below. When we returned to the community center we sat in a circle to be “smudged”. Nervously I anticipated my turn as a seashell with burning sage was passed around the group. I watched as each of my native colleagues stood one at a time, directing the pungent smoke towards their body with beckoning hands. Drawing it close and gently pushing it away. Cleansing themselves of negative energy. I was welcomed into the ceremony, treated no differently than the rest. As I embraced the smoke I believed what they believed. This was healing.
bashkodejiibik
i am not Anishinaabe but
mino giizhigad
Translation:
sage
i am not native but
it’s a nice day
Written for Paul’s poetic prompt, “Medicine” over at dVerse Poets Pub.
undeniable
my body immersed in
energy unrecognizable
filling chasms of my soul
tides of tears to remind me
that I am here
did I miss the journey?
I am overcome
Written for dVerse Poetics. Amaya Engleking is our host and she has asked us to consider various questions about holy places. In Sedona, Arizona, I entered this well-visited Catholic chapel built on a mesa. I am not Catholic. I am not overly religious or convinced of spiritual vortexes, but what I experienced there was very spiritual….to me.
The well worn paths of the forest floor feel like home to me. They are only a starting point to something more. Perhaps something no one has ever seen or touched. My feet often wander off trail to investigate a mossy log or to find that magical spot where land meets water. I pick up rocks for future painting, caress the bark of an old oak tree and savor the scent of dampened leaves before the first snowfall. I look for the smallest of creatures, putting nature under a microscope. I know he’s out there…..somewhere but I have not yet encountered the silent flier. Natives of the Chippewa tribe call him “Gookookoo”. I have displayed calendar pictures of him on preschool walls, spoke of him in simple terms, but his magnificent eyes have never met mine. He lurks where I do not search. His screech has yet to reach me. Legend says that is a good thing.
muted feathers soar
over unsuspecting souls
deer mouse holds his breath
~
For Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets Pub.
Victoria is our host. WHO can join in? You can.
The prompt begins at 3 p.m. and is open all week!
Image credit: pixabay.com
I find my religion
in song and stars
not far from the dazzle
of dew drops at dawn
in chiseled red rock
set aglow by the sun
in the voice of the trees
that silence me
strokes of pastel
over indigo skies
moonlight shadows
that dance in my eyes
the strength of the spider web
in gale’s great force
and of course
it all feels magical
Paul is tending bar at dVerse Poets Pub today and he has us brewing up a little magic into our poems.
Want to read some enchanting poetry? Feel free to join in. Just wave your magic wand over this:
When nightfall finds you
Breathless under muted moon
Your shattered heart fumbling
Tumbling faster than your thoughts
May you count stars instead of tears
Echo the moments, over years
Summon one precious particle
Of light within your soul
Carry on, my friend
Carry on
This life is not over
Written for dVerse as Paul brings us a beautiful prompt for Poetics, called
Photo: Mish
Photo: Candace Kubinec
In Flight
Life me up
For I have spiraled, wingless
In whirls of worldly matter
That do not matter
Much to me
Cradle my heart
For I have stumbled, tumbled
To humble places
Grant me peace
And let me fly
Let Peace Flow
When you see sorrow
of another
Let joy flow from
Your soul
To cover the dark in light
When you hear hatred
toward a neighbor
Let love flow from
Your heart
To cover the hard in softness
When you feel the anguish
of humanity
Let peace flow from
Your mind
To cover the shattered in healing
The sun paints for you
In hues against blues
Reflections of great sorrow
You gallantly cope
Through beacons of hope
For sunrises and tomorrows
Let skies amaze you
Daybreak embrace you
Memories warmly whisper
Layers of love shine
Heal in your own time
He lives in your heart, sister
Dedicated to my sister-in-law, Michelle.
~
At dVerse Poets Pub, Gayle introduces The Alouette, a poetic form consisting of “two or more stanzas of 6 lines each (sestets) with the following set rules: Syllables/Meter: 5, 5, 7, 5, 5, 7 Rhyme Scheme: a, a, b, c, c, b”.
Doldrums and Dragonflies
Even in flight
I am not alone
Cradled
By the zephyrs
Warm embrace
This too is my calm
My inner field of felicity
Double-winged, I will sing
To the flutter of my heart
In shades of iridescence
I feel blessed to have met Candy, my friend in collaboration as we continue to be inspired by each others work. You can find more of her photography and poetry at rhymeswithbug.com
Feather me, hawk
To help me see
Feather me, crow
Please balance me
Feather me, dove
To nurture and love
Feather me, bluebird
With joyful words
Feather me, eagle
To make me wise
Feather me, seagull
In freedom, I’ll fly
Feather me, falcon
To heal my soul
Give me my wings
To make me whole
A late response to Victoria’s poetic prompt, “Come Fly With Me”
It’s Open Link Night over at dVerse Poets Pub. Feel free to share a poem with us!
I wish love grew as ivy
Boundless, disencumbered
Sprouting across spaces
Rainbows of faces
As we sway hand in hand
I wish for seas
Of selfish hearts to crash
Against rocky reefs
Dissolve and dilute
In harbors of integrity
I wish for all clichéd
World peace, homemade
Stirred, simmered, seasoned
With the very gifts
That God gave us
I wish for stars
To forever befuddle me
Amaze me, allude me
Remain unreachable
So I never stop reaching
…and wishing
As your host today at dVerse Poets Pub, I am asking you to leave your worries at the door. Make a wish and write a poem about it. It may be a personal longing or a global vision. Your poem can be serious, humorous or whimsical.
Join us for some “Wishful Thinking”. Doors open at 3 p.m. EST.
I watch the old bones
Of your pianist hands
Bend in new ways
Blue irises fading, not in beauty
Mind sharper than mine
Will you take flight tomorrow
Or am I blessed with more?
My pen is dripping tears
Dare I write these words?
Am I afraid to love so much that
The ground beneath me liquefies
When you go?
Will your skin, soft and weathered
Turn to pixels on a screen
Leaving me floating here
In the silence of white noise?
When you become that
One …star…ablaze
I will not stand in darkness…alone
Waving at you from the gate
I swear
I will be your moon
Gently glowing
By your side
We are facing our fears today as I tend bar over at dVerse Poets Pub.
Doors open at 3:00 p.m. EST.
“Same view from where I am
grass and sky and trees
Please let me travel elsewhere
to see the sea”
Journey me
Ferry me gently
To new horizons
Then…let…me…go
I’ll be the fizzle
In the seafoam
The iridescent dazzle
Of sun satiny shores
Dance me dizzy
Until I fall giggly into
Cotton batten clouds
Quilted for me
Journey me
To the sea
We have begun a week long celebration for our 5th Anniversary of dVerse Poets Pub. Grace started us off with an interview with Brian Miller, co-founder of dVerse. Today we are writing quadrilles including the word “journey”. During our two week break, we were very saddened to lose one of our most active participants, a very talented poet, Viv Blake. I was inspired by her poem, “Rooted” as I wrote this piece. This one’s for you, Viv.
© Candace Kubinec
There is always a trail, a place to regain pieces of me that I have lost. Today I set out on an unfamiliar path, craving the calm that never fails to elude me. Deep in these woodlands I am shadowed by my own muse. The trees speak to me in wordless ways. One in particular demands my attention and I reach out to caress battle scarred bark, running my fingers along ridges and grooves in silver tones. This is art, sculpted by time and elements. My mind wanders briefly to wonder why something so observable can be so overlooked. The soft percussion of a woodpecker wakens me from my philosophical thoughts. This is music, a sampling of Mother Nature’s sweet song. Looking down, I admire the gnarling of roots planted firmly but not afraid to be exposed and vulnerable. I sit down beside them, letting them take me to seed and soil, the simplicity of life, uninterrupted. I breathe in the essence of pine and become one with the earth.
rosin’ up the boughs
trees burst into silent song
forest floor sun dance
For Haibun Monday at dVerse Poets Pub, Toni (kanzensakura) shares with us some very interesting Japanese techniques for clearing our mind and has asked us to write about our own favourite ways to rest and relax. Drop in, pull up a seat and enjoy some peaceful poetry.
We hope that peace is part of your day. Another collaboration by Candy and Mish…
©Candace Kubinec
My Peace
I look up
Into the treetops
Where silence is
Broken only by
The song of the lark
And clouds whisperings
Blue embraces me in
Shades of sapphire
And indigo
This is my peace
201672094
The world is covered in an ocean of poems
That ride in and out with the current(affairs)
They are a tsunami of emotion
A tidal wave of rebellion
We splash and play in the surf of words
And picnic on beaches of smooth syllables
We wiggle our toes in trickles of rhyme
And bathe ourselves in cool rhythms
We are tugged by the undertow of language
Until we’re drowned in a wave of love letters
© Candace Kubinec
Spin Me
I have lost all sense of direction
East is moving west
The world is upside down
Spin me around
And point me towards peace
© Candace Kubinec
Candy and I have united with photography and poetry. These collaborations are a very small example of how perfect strangers can work together, be inspired by each other and share a passion for peace.
Image by Candace Kubinec
~
Life is delicate, intricate
Complicated, segregated
But one heart still beats
At the center of existence
One soul still strives
To be one with all
It has been fun to collaborate with Candy from rhymeswithbug and we hope that you are enjoying our Sunday posts. So far, I have been providing the photos and Candy has been inspired to write.
Hope you are having a peaceful day…
© candace kubinec
Candy and I have been working on a project that we would like to call “Collaboration for Peace”. Here is our first creation, combining my photos with her haiku. We hope to spread peace and hope throughout this community of poets. Who is Candy? You can find her at rhymeswithbug.com We are both members of Artists4Peace.
We tread in the turbulence
Only to save ourselves
Creating our own human condition
We set our own foolish fires
As we direct our demise
Blindfolded
Do you ask why?
Do you feel each wispy breath as it
Leaves your tired lungs, wondering
Why we are here?
Listen to the faintest crackle
Of leaves on the forest floor
This is the voice of truth
Feel the soft skin on your lips
As you kiss a baby’s cheek
This is the canvass of innocence
Follow the red lines in the eyes
Of the man begging on the street
This is the road map to justice
And we have lost our way
~
Brian Miller is hosting at dVerse! He asked us to write about philosophy.
God didn’t put walls in the forest
Where eagles rise with the tailwinds
And chlorophyll canopies shadow dance
Over moss carpet floors
Morning glory knows no barriers
Roots of the gnarled oak
Venture out in every direction
Baring their bones to the sun
Willows welcome the lark’s sweet song
Arms reach out without thought
Embracing those that walk peaceful paths
Embracing those that do not
~
Driving east from our hometown
I remember a sunset
Blazing behind me
Reds I’d never known
Tangerines twisted
In tones of blue silk
Ivory smiles, infectious
Masquerading as cirrus clouds
I think it was you, my brother
I think it was you
~
Miles were meaningless
Moments embedded in golden hues
Purple streams extended
Like arms that had my back
I never lost sight of your afterglow
Love as large as the sun
Fades not in distance
Or in hearts
I think it was you, my brother
I think it was you
Grace encouraged us to write about brothers/brotherhood for dVerse poetics. I lost my only brother suddenly when he was 36. This was written as I recalled the most amazing sunset, traveling home one day from the small town I grew up in. It just happened to be his birthday.
Life is like hide and seek
Burying your faults under fuzzy blankets
Searching for truths and treasures
In dark alleys of your mind
Before lights fade and you are called home
Ready or not here we come
But we are not searching
Until we look into a baby’s eyes
And find the sea
You are not playing this game
It plays you
Until you realize
The hourglass is nothing but sand
To sift between your fingers
And toss into the wind
You have already won
When you stand silent on the mesa
Sunlight blessing your face
Tracing the shadows of the eagle’s talons
Looking over this canyon
You know
You know that you are
In that one place
That grabs you
By the corners of your mouth
And lifts you up
Elated for the moment
Enlightened forever
Agawa Canyon, Sault Ste. Marie, Ontario
As I wrote “Song for Aki”, it gave me the opportunity to use the Ojibway words that I have been taught as well as challenging myself to some new vocabulary, based on online resources. For those who might be interested, I have included the original version of my last post as well as the English translation. The Ojibway (Ojibwe) language has varied dialects depending on regions throughout Canada and the U.S. The native language is beautiful. Translated to simple English, the poem definitely loses it’s charm.
Song for Aki
Standing atop of Chi Wajiwan
Anishinaabe eyes see what I cannot
Gi za gin, Aki
Gi za gin
From the gigoon in the sea
To the migizi, majestic ruler of the sky
Gi za gin, Aki
Gi za gin
Zhooniyaa is not sacred
Like the giizis and the anangoons
Gi za gin, Aki
Gi za gin
The daywaygan beats
To the rhythm of my deh
Gi za gin, Aki
Gi za gin
Noodin gently rocks
The wiigwaasi-mitigoog
Gi za gin, Aki
Gi za gin
I may be Zhaagnaash
Still the bugwayji calls my name
Gi zi gin, Aki
Gi zi gin
~
Translation:
Song for the Earth
Standing atop of Big Mountains
Native eyes see what I cannot
I love you, Earth
I love you
From the fish in the sea
To the eagle, majestic ruler of the sky
I love you, Earth
I love you
Money is not sacred
Like the sun and the stars
I love you, Earth
I love you
The drum beats
To the rhythm of my heart
I love you, Earth
I love you
The wind gently rocks
The white birch trees
I love you, Earth
I love you
I may be “white people”
But nature’s places call my name
I love you, Earth
I love you
Related Articles:
http://www.nativetech.org/shinob/ojibwelanguage.html
Standing atop of Chi Wajiwan
Anishinaabe eyes see what I cannot
Gi za gin, Aki
Gi za gin
From the gigoon in the sea
To the migizi, majestic ruler of the sky
Gi za gin, Aki
Gi za gin
Zhooniyaa is not sacred
Like the giizis and the ahnung
Gi za gin, Aki
Gi za gin
The daywaygan beats
To the rhythm of my deh
Gi za gin, Aki
Gi za gin
Noodin gently rocks
The wiigwaasi-mitigoog
Gi za gin, Aki
Gi za gin
I may be Zhaagnaash
Still the bugwayji calls my name
Gi zi gin, Aki
Gi zi gin
~
We are dabbling in defamiliarization at dVerse.
I have chosen to incorporate some of the Ojibway language, inspired by the native community that I work in.
The word “Aki” means “Earth”. This is my song to Aki.
You are my lighthouse
Directing me to shore
When I drift carelessly
In my own waves
Signalling me to safety
My lantern, my love
Wrapping me in safe harbors
To sift through sands
For ancient shells
Emptied of lost moments
Until I find the one
Perfectly pierced
Waiting for a chain
And a reason to be worn
You are my lighthouse
Illuminating my destiny
Through fog and faint heart
Shining on me
Like I am important
My lantern, my love
And there is not a gale
Or storm that could take me
When I have your light
Your beacons of hope
Guiding me back
To shores of solace
Dreams and castles
Still yet to be built
Karin Gustafson at dVerse Poet’s Pub, challenged us to follow through on metaphors.
Bring your worries here
Misery dies in deep canyons
Dissipating like dust
Into panoramic perspective
You are but a speck
Compared to this masterpiece
That stretches your mind
To the clouds
Your arms to the sky
Your heart to forever
Until all you feel is the wind
There is room here
~
https://dailypost.wordpress.com/dp_photo_challenge/room/
This is where the sun shines
In lower ground
On weeds and weary souls
We’ve all but given up on
Beacons of hope
Brilliantly borrowed from
Selfish fools unable to
See the light
This is where the sun shines
On shattered hearts
Wide open to receive
The greatest gold of all
Out here
I could slip away
Fall through the cracks of
Time and existence
Mesmerized
By all that it is,
Unstirred and forsaken
Cosmic creation
A sweeping silence
That deafens the demons
And nourishes the soul
These are not bad lands
Colour draws me in
Lifting my heart to the sky
Through turquoise dreams
And flying machines
Luring me gently to the clouds
Over the rainbow
And back again
I only need to open
This door of hope
Yellow like the sun
Decorated with doves and lace
To remind me of grandmothers’ doilies
And simpler times
I only need to open
This door of endless possibilities
One hand gripping and turning
One heart open and learning
One life in front of me
Inside of me
Around me
I only need to open
This door of life
To find my rainbow
Photo credit: Doors – 2014 Calendar
Photography by Londie Garcia Padelsky
As deep as my heart
That summons strength
To shine beneath the shadows
This cold bed
Will cushion my fall
Bring joy to my soul
Arms will unfold
And with eyes on the sky
I will fly
“Solace is neither here nor there. You can find it in a quiet corner or a walk through the forest. No window or door can separate you from the beating of your own heart. You only need to listen.”
~mishunderstood~
I can dream of Spring
Faith of the future
Life reborn
Victorious in its battle
With borealis
Eyes closed
This warm wind
Will simmer my soul
Shed light on my thoughts
Refurbish my being
Eyes open
These colours
Will bleed into me
Open my heart again
Sing to me new verses
Of hope and vitality
Embellished evergreen,
Bestowed with light
Reflecting intention
To buy, to wrap, to please
The expectation
Of a traditional nation
Guiding us blindly to follow
Unlike the heavenly star
So pure and unpretentious
Sending us light
In the simplest form
To lead us to LOVE
With nothing to unwrap
But our hearts
San Albino Church, Old Mesilla Village, Las Cruces, New Mexico
If all is well
Do we pray?
Praise the spirit
We so openly honor
Find the time
That we have been gifted
To thank, to touch
If all is well
Do we stay?
In the moment
That speaks to us clearly
Hold it close
As the last it may be
For joy, for hope
If all is well
Do we know?
Pain and suffering
Swirling beneath jaded hearts
Eyes of steel
Secretly begging
For comfort, for love
If all is well
Do we bow down?
To our maker
Fathom our fragility
Bold yet brittle
Filter fabrication
Into purity and grace
In the wakefulness of now
Listen and you will hear
Hearts beating
To the sound of original grace
Souls strumming on strings
Of merciful melodies
Faintly tapping out the truth
Orchestrating the score
Of the conductor, the Creator
Heed to this rhapsody of love
Humming softly through the clatter
Drumming gently without fail
Steady as time, resistant to mind
Find harmony within
Where good intentions lie dormant
Under clogged and corrupted arteries
Like a child, improvise
Sing this song of life
Take me from the icebox to the fire
Through the window of pain
Melt away this melancholy mind
Beyond my icy veins
Kindle my convictions
Guide me to the glow
Ignite my frozen heart
For this is all I know
Drag me through the snowflakes
That vanish on my skin
Let me warm my hands
On the spirit from within
http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/11/01/photo-challenge-eerie/
You are only gone
If I forget you
That could never happen
My brother, my friend
For memories, like oxygen
Breathe life again
Inhaling your laughter
Exhaling joy
You are only gone
If I let you go
But I don’t have to
Because flashbacks kindle the fire
Igniting hope
Warming my heart
And if my heart is warm
Then you are too.
~
In memory of my brother
who can still make me smile today.
~Oct. 28, 2000~
We reach towards the sun
To feel the warmth
Nurturing our souls
Soothing our minds
Millions of miles away
When only millimeters from our hands
Placed on our chest
We can feel the life, the blood
The beating of our own sun
A gift more precious than we can comprehend
For hearts so pure and strong
Are victims to minds so tangled
Hearts so fearless and free
Become chained by selfishness
We reach towards the sun
To find simplicity
#11.”The best fry bread I’ve ever had was made by an elderly Navajo woman at the edge of a dusty road leading to Shiprock, New Mexico.”
New Mexico is my other home. It was there that I met my husband and discovered a new landscape. I fell in love with both of them.
There is a peaceful feeling that I can only find there, a need to explore the rock formations and lonesome desert flowers, a desire to just sit and feel the sun caress my soul. I have had many opportunities to see the Land of Enchantment but this particular adventure will be forever imprinted in my mind.
This was a day trip in the Four Corners Area highlighted with a visit to “Shiprock”.
We were travlling on Red Rock Highway that takes you to this glorious sight. At the side of this deserted road, we could see the figure of an elderly woman dressed in a long dark skirt sitting by an outdoor grill of some type. As we drove closer, I insisted that we stop. My sons were with us and I believed this was one of those “once in a lifetime, you just have to stop” moments.
Getting out of the car, the aroma of oil and bread combined was surprisingly wonderful. The desolate desert backdrop transported us to a place of long ago, of recipes passed down….a place of simplicity, family and survival.
As we approached her, she smiled slightly, which pronounced the deep wrinkles set into her weathered face. Her long hair was pulled back with a beaded barrette but the dry wind of the southwest sent it in a few different directions. As she poked at her creation in a cast iron skillet, I noticed her hands. This was a working woman. She placed the fry bread on a paper plate and handed it to us.
I pondered about what this meant to her compared to what it meant to us.
This was her living. This was our…..hmm…..entertainment?
Fry bread was a common staple to her.
Perhaps to us it was an initiation into an unknown land that was only a privilege to visit.
We paid her the four dollars she had advertised with her cardboard sign and thanked her. The bread was round, flat, yet puffy, soft and warm…..delicious. Our first bite could not wait until we returned to our car. We were in the moment, cacti at our feet, surrounded by blue skies and sunshine. Most of all, I think we honored the old woman by eating it right away. It was too good to wait for. Driving away, I thought about the way we had a brief encounter with another place, another time and then we simply moved on. We leave it there and come away with a few photos and a memory. We carry on with our travels, our lives, our problems, our ways, but our past is someone else’s present. The native woman selling fry bread still sits there, waiting for her next customer to slow down, completely intrigued by her or maybe just hungry.
Shiprock is the name of the small town governed by the Navajo Nation as well as the amazing landmark itself. This magnificent peak rises 1500 feet above you, but it is not the height that makes this formation unique. It stands out in an otherwise barren and flat desert plain, and the shape of Shiprock reminds me of Disneyland. The only difference was that this magical place is real. Geologically speaking, it is a stunning tower of volcanic rock, the neck of a volcano that erupted millions of years ago, with rugged walls of lava leading out of it. To the Navajo people however, Shiprock is a sacred monument. They strictly prohibit anyone from approaching this religious and historical site that they call “Tse Btai”. As I looked towards this masterpiece of nature and the long, dusty road towards it, my husband warned me that we could only admire it from afar. That was fine with me. As much as I love to be hands on and this mountain screamed “climb me”, I found myself scanning the wide open desert, half expecting someone of authority to jump out of nowhere or fire off a few warning shots. It was not the only thing that stopped me from getting closer to Tse Btai. I felt a presence. It was as though a spiritual circle surrounded this beautiful creation. The Navajo have many stories and legends about their “rock with wings”. It didn’t matter what Shiprock meant to me because what it meant to others brought it to life.
This isn’t really about Shiprock.
It is about appreciating a natural wonder without touching it, without invading it, allowing the wind to be the only one to carve and caress it.
It’s about restraint and respect of others beliefs.
This isn’t really about the fry bread.
It’s about a quiet lady at the side of a dusty, desert road, trying to make a living and at the same time, upholding the traditional ways of her culture.
It’s about entering another world, another time, another feeling and then leaving it behind.
It’s an exchange between curiosity and a few dollars. It’s real. It’s pure. It’s sharing at its best.
mishunderstood 