Crows Mouth

dream of a divided field ::

ghost dancer : south dakota : december 1890 ::

in my nightly dream there is

a grove of pines

or sitka spruce ::

s shallow stream meanders

through it, turning and

growing narrow before

widening and becoming

swift with fish :: in my dream

it is always a spring

evening : not yet hot ::

in am walking down one

side of the stream and

watching someone

on the other side : walking

alone amid the trees ::

i know in the dream

that if i cross i will

step into heaven where

all these others are

waiting to welcome me ::

i call it

my dream of a

divided field :: i know

what it means

and i call it

holiness : a blessing ::

a benediction of what

will come : like wovoka :: like

wanagi-wachipi :

the ghostwheel dancing in

infinite circles

which are the heavens

we eventually see ::

far countries and stars

with animals and fish

and places we have

not even heard the names of :::

juniper prayer ::

exploding juniper

interrupts winter's sharp

silence :: remnants of

fallen ice lie dormant

in sunlight too cold

and vague

to melt them ::

these trees, grandfather,

embody thousands

of scents

resins

smokes

prayers

versions of fragrant

holiness ::

let thanks be

given for winter's

frozen gifts :

arrayed

on the crystal earth

in place of

necessary prayers ::

so we dance like

smoke : propelled by

the air we breathe

and by the heaven

to come : someday :

when we stop

looking and see :::

li po in montana ::

perhaps the winter

was more than you

bargained for but

these juniper woods and

plains are no different

from your many-flowered mountains

filled with shabby

old taoists ::

here we have

ancient

silent

tobacco-twist cowboys

and medicine men :

and a spring moon the color

of glaciers and hills ::

staring at the fading

crescent

in april's shadow

don't reach so far to touch it

or you may fall

through the obsidian sky

and emerge beyond

this cold and

nightbound jewel ::

falling : falling :

ghostwheel moon :::

mahfouz ::

cairene dusk
ushers night into your room :
the silent nile
sweeps a billion stars
through the ancient city ::
a struck match
illuminates the years
and penstrokes
of your face ::
mahfouz : your dreams
populate the sky ::
they fill your pockets
with secret coins ::
ya allah :::

baghdad marketplace bombing kills 12 ::

a silent (thus far : with
seconds to go)
and praiseworthy morning
on the tigris beneath
the unseen sights of
infantry rifles and grenade
launchers : a slender boat
glides near the confluence
(apocryphal : apocalyptic)
of sun and water ::
a solitary angler
becomes bricks
and fire ::
ya allah :::

a weather shaman ::

wovoka's feathers :

call them

mystery and fate :

turn tides :

phases of the moon ::

invent sudden blizzards ::

influence icebound

auroras and

the feeding habits of

cutthroat salmon ::

in the distance he sees

a thunderstorm headed

for the montana sweetgrass

where custer fell ::

falling : falling : a pocketful of hail :::

night :: drift ::

hawk : eagle :

owl : crow :

ground shadows

traverse moonlight ::

dark feathered

continents

sailing night's

prairie :::

spring storm :: hutchinson, kansas ::

old thoughts :

old fire songs :

a sunday afternoon : i

blow my

anasazi flute

like thunder beneath

the gray dancing skirts

of a kansas storm ::

lightning :

a fatal chorus of

sudden illumination ::

falling : falling : a pocketful of hail :::

a white man's lament for mary dann :: [d. 2005] ::

because of you

the maladies of stolen land :

absconded

infested

uranium-raped :

smite the wasichus

one last time

with the whip of their own

shame :: grandmother :

whispering shoshone

ghosts have welcomed you

to a place where there is

no more land but also

no more theft or

poisoned water :

larcenous fences :

bleeding soil :

bitter gray sky filled

with hard mutating rain ::

the wasichus

took what you had but

missed your brave wise

earth-soul :: grandmother :

you are a pure

crusading presence now ::

so what is there to bury

with all this ceremony but

a breath of ancient

smoke :::

* * *

Crusading sisters: Environmental and land rights activists Carrie and Mary Dann of the Western Shoshone Nation on their Nevada ranch in 1979.

winter nightfall :: grand forks, n.d. ::

this earthlit relic

imbues night's prairie with

legends : slanting

shadows of feathered horsemen :

a blue smear of juniper ash

from ancient migrant fires

on snow ::

::: wagon ruts

that once could be traced

back to philadelphia or

skippack township

or the colonial ravines

of the pequea river

vanish beneath this

levitating crescent :::

this earthlit relic :

dissolving in the faintest

cloud : reappears in

a curtainless window in

grand forks where

a fresh foot of ice makes

fossils of us all : whose

ancestors : cast out :

of america : survived

disintegration

on these deep wind-braided

plains : in this

far place where

moonlight succeeds

the season's early dark :::

:::

postscript: redhorse :

two feathers : blue union

brass-button uniform :

where has the moon gone

here in heaven where

the infinite stars never

sleep ::: spring has

come again ::: we are

poverty's wicked

immigrants

never again :::