Mural by Leslie Silko, outside Lucca, Italy 2011

Leslie created this mural as a gift to her/our translator Laura Coltelli. She is still doing a little touch up.

Notice the sunlight coming in on the Sun Person's head.

Solstice Paddle

We were there at the mouth of the windblown channel

Near the end of a paddle

The sky was opening up just as it was closing down

Kokohead stood in a warrior cape of mist above us

And below the boat rolled the blue kingdom of knowledge.

We paused there at the culmination of ten thousand paths:

Six travelers pulling together in that sacred outrigger.

As the day lay down behind the crater,

One year floated up behind another

And all the births, partings and deaths we carried with us

Grew wise, then lighter.

c Joy Harjo

Spirit Walking in Nome Tundra/Revision

for Qituvituaq

I fly over the Bering Sea toward Nome.

In the breaking ice are turquoise lakes in which

I can see the sky.

The cargo load, so heavy with human need,

vibrates to my bones.

I walk from the plane and am met by an old friend.

We drive to the launching place.

Walrus hunters set out toward the sea.

We swing to the summer camps where seal hangs on drying frames.

This is what it feels like, says her son, as we walk up tundra

toward a herd of musk oxen.

There is a shaking, and then you are in mystery.

Little purple flowers come up from the permafrost.

A newborn musk oxen staggers around its mother’s legs.

I smell the approach of someone with clean thoughts.

She is wearing designs like flowers and a fur of ice.

She carries a basket and digging implements.

Her smell is sweet like blossoms coming up through the snow.

She is the spirit of the tundra, she tells me without speaking.

We do not need words or the books of history to know who we are

or where we come from, I tell him.

Up here, we are near the opening in the Earth’s head, the place where the spirit leaves and returns.

Up here the edge between life and death is thinner than dried animal bladder.

Walk with the sky between your teeth.

c Joy Harjo Nome, Alaska 2011

Astral Projection or Spirit Walking (poem draft)

for Qituvituaq

I fly over the Bering Sea toward Nome.

The ice is breaking up. There are lakes in the ice in which

I can see my face. I am in my body, and then I am in a plane.

We are so heavy with human need.

The cargo load vibrates to my bones.

In pockets of marrow are nests of sea birds.

They are so protective they will dive us.

I walk from the plane and am met by an old friend.

She reminds me of where we have been—

we drive to the launching place

And see the walrus hunters set out toward the sea.

We swing to the summer camps where seal hangs on drying frames.

This is what it feels like, says her son, as we walk up tundra

toward a herd of musk oxen.

There is a shaking, and then you are in mystery.

I want to know it.

Little purple flowers come up from the permafrost.

There are yellow and magenta.

A newborn musk oxen staggers around its mother’s legs.

Our seeing flies out toward the iced sea.

Over gold miners, the homeless and the town of Nome.

The seeing leaves us for a while as it plays in the low rays of the sun.

I smell the approach of someone with clean thoughts.

She is wearing designs like flowers and a fur of ice.

She carries a basket and digging implements.

Her smell is sweet like blossoms coming up through the snow.

She is the spirit of the tundra, she tells me without speaking.

We do not need words or the books of history to know who we are

and where we come from, I tell him.

Up here, we are near the opening in the Earth’s head, the place where the spirit leaves and returns.

Up here the edge between life and death is thinner than dried animal bladder.

This is how it begins. You already know how.

c Joy Harjo Nome, Alaska 2011

Blood Lust

Like many others I too am disturbed by the blood lust celebrations over the killing of Osama Bin Laden. Yes, Bin Laden is responsible for the deaths of thousands--but killing is no cause for celebration. Instead, this should be a time of introspection, of searching within our collective soul to properly bury the dead within us--to forgive and be forgiven.

Joy on the Radio tomorrow at 9 am PST

March 11, 2011
8:30 am PST for 15 minutes

The Co-Creating Show with Cassie Steal

Listen Live or Listen to a Replay Later: http://www.blogtalkradio.com/cassiesteele/2011/03/11/cassie-premo-steeles-co-creating-show
Call in 347-205-9143

Star House Astrology Correct Link

http://starhouseastrology.com/

Thanks for looking!!

Star House

http://starhouseastrology.com/

This is the moment the baby, or, this site, takes its first breath. The New Moon is in Pisces. Because it's a new Moon the Sun is also in Pisces at thirteen degrees. In my energetic map, made when I took my first breath, this is on my North Node--in the Tenth House--a direction of becoming. My instincts, or what is familiar to run back toward the Fourth--which is home, ancestral burrowing. The Tenth is putting it out there. So, here it is. I have been pretty underground with my astrological study. Then Leslie Silko brought out her memoir, The Turquoise Ledge, last fall (available on Amazon.com) and in the Prologue announces me as a poet, AND an astrologer. Because of that--and other markers of momentum, I decided: it's time.

So here it is, a "coming out" of sorts--of this love I have for looking at energetic patterns and discerning from them. I have learned that the planets are beings. In my western education I learned that they were mere places. Planets, stars and other "heavenly" bodies have definite, distinct presences, attitude and react with each other, and us, in discernible manners. The Moon is case-in-point. Just ask anyone who works in a hospital or the police force about the Full Moon affect.

Please take a look around--and get ahold of me if you'd like some insight. You'll find quite a story.

Young Soldiers To Be

Last night as I walked with my driver through the Atlanta Airport, passed lines of young men who were waiting for flights for boot camp. They were beautiful young men, between boyhood and manhood. Some are joining because they are warriors, true warriors. Others because they need jobs, or there is nothing else. I pray they are not slaughtered for oil, for greed.

Joy Harjo with Larry Mitchell appearing in Tulsa Friday night!!

Gig details:

8pm, Friday February 18th
Nightingale Theater
1416 East Fourth Street (just East of Peoria on Fourth Street)
Tulsa, OK
Tickets $12.00 (Cash or check only, please. No credit cards.)
Available at the door half an hour before the show.
This is a great opportunity to experience Joy's show in an intimate venue!