Monday, June 7, 2010

Poem: Hopi Vision

This early poem, published six years ago by Porcupine Literary Arts Magazine, accompanied my first sparks of awareness concerning shamanism, its power and inspiration.


Hopi Vision

no answer from sand, quartz, or air,
their shattery, dissolving jazz.
none from clouds,
their addictive white thighs.
stones spew ochre
as i kick, as i watch a cactus
cry puzzled flowers away
frond by frond
into a pitcher of shadow.

i see now
this piracy we call time,
long spider whose legs never touch,
has no poison,
not even microbes, not even flesh.
nothing except a bitter fluid in the mind.

nothing should die
without sending its heat into a
naïve sunset. why must perfect mice
fracture off rattlesnake swords,
suffer a billion times,
as many times as there are daughters?

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