People want something to believe in. I want to hold the land. There’s no Christian god. In nomine patris et filii et spiritus sancti. But the land doesn’t hold me like my mother held me in her arms. Like I hold my daughters in my arms. The land loves slowly. Papa, papa! my daughter called to me our fishing lines in the water this rock is so warm. Come sit with me Papa. And the warm rock dried us doesn’t it feel so good, Papa? Yes, my love, yes it does, I replied. Should we check our baits now Papa? It’s cruel to love someone so much it should hurt so badly. You are my god, little one. Holy holy holy child casting worms into brackish waters. Not yet my love we need to be patient, I said and she responded Okay Papa. Should we get a snack from Mama? I want to finish my sausage.
And I see the world differently than anyone. I see two worlds the world I see and the world I want to see and the time has come yes the time has come to merge the two regardless of truth or love I have only this life and I will give birth to my visions damn the fear damn the judgment energy will rain from the heavens and swell the bays and rivers and creeks I will runneth over in purples blues greys shadows and light. And Joy Harjo wrote “North is the direction where the difficult teachers live. This is the direction of cold winds. The color is white, sharp and bare. It is the direction marked by the full moon showing the way through the snow. It is prophecy.” But there is a fifth direction the center of all things.
