May Your Journey Be Beautiful, take two

A little rain has blanketed the earth
Swallows fly out from their adobe nest as we’ve flown up from sleep
For coffee and the news—our dreams shooting roots into the earth.
Memory has its own breath, watches over us with the vision of eagles.
Politics dominates the kitchen: who’s fired; who’s hot and not, and how
The price of gas is a perk given to the flunkies of ruin.
And where did these bananas come from?
Who picked them and did anyone sing to those young banana trees
Pushing urgently from the creative earth?
The train runs through the pueblo making rough music but doesn’t stop.
We joke: it’s laden with uranium, cattle and oil.
It’s going somewhere else for now. They’ll dump the scraps here later.
We get the politics, just how are we going to dance past this pain?
We needed a little rain.
I walk concrete in town to the tribal summit
Datura flowers are closing; someone has to stand guard with the night.
Even mystery needs to be held tenderly.
A Dineh brother stumbles up from the dark with his hands open, in the rain:
Hey aren’t you the musician? He asks me for money, for a drink.
When are we most ourselves on this journey?

c Joy Harjo 9/05

No comments: