My Blue Sky Dealer

I breathe in deeply and hold,

In order to preserve my tears as a steady rain.

My closed eyes are the flood gates

Which guards the world from turmoil.

These are muddy times.

The ground is squishy beneath our feet.

We do not expect the sun to shine through these dark clouds,

Yet we hope it will.

We do not expect the path to be clear,

Chaotic uncertainty is its nature.

We do not expect the path to be firm anytime soon.

Oh, but I love to walk!

It is our ancestors we call upon

For the strength

To stop trudging.

Through the murk we will sink.

Through the stillness we can think.

If we continue to resist, we will fall.

I fall now into a selfish sorrow.

Each morning I mourn the loss of my humble friend.

Each night I grieve for the absence of my wise teacher.

My heart aches to live among you,

For your presence soothes my soul.

Our souls are intertwined, so

Perhaps the sadness I feel is not solely my own.

You too are weeping.

You too are hurt.

My ancestors murdered you,

Exploited you,

Took all that you gave and then some.

You were pushed to the outskirts,

Exiled and forgotten about.

None of that feels just to us.

I never wanted to be a part of this separation.

I was born into this mess

And so were you.

I don’t want to belong to that history,

Now this anger belongs to me.

Lugging it with me up every hill,

Complaining for change as

I let it drag me down to the bottom of my own mind.

A prisonous loop


Fills my lungs with water but does not drown.

It cracks the flood gates,

Wearing down the protection I’ve built,

Weathering away my work.

If I am not to hold on to anger,

Where is safe to set it down?

Surely not on your banks, your fields, your waters.

How can I release this anger,

When I am without my helaer?

My blue sky dealer.

My mountainous feeler.

I don’t want to belong to that history,

Yet here I am.

A human.

A taker.

A villain I am not!

An ally I hope to be.

A student of yours,

Show me what you see.

I call again upon my ancestors.

The ones who honored you,

Who knew your patterns,

Followed your seasons,

Heeded your warnings,

Blessed your givings,

And delighted in your company.

Lend me your ancestral wisdom,

Our mother is distressed.

She is battered, bruised, and suffering.

She is closing her gates for the season.


Are we adrift?


I am worried.

Mother Nature,

I am lost without the ability to be lost with you, my guide.

You have shown me strength and perseverance through change.

I call upon your grounded wisdom

Which resides within me.

To heal your wounds,

To tend to your health.

While it pains me to be away,

It is space you need.

It is time I can give

So you can rest.

The sins of my ancestors rest heavy upon my heart.

To right their wrongs

May be an impossible feat.

I will not let my siblings be the cause of your defeat.

The pace of nature is slow,

So slow I must go.

Patiently I will wait,

Tending to my flood gates.

From the tears of rain,

To the puddles of pain

Emerges a new growth.

Together we can cultivate change.

Together we can find balance.

Together we can rise

To greet a harmonious future

Under an educated society who strives to honor all that is life.

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