of the bone which came to a man
from a lynx that captured a goose
to find it was of great power
but denounced all the things he knew
that had laced a life alone
into whatever it was that came
and for every time he tied
his foolishness deep in shame
my elders told me of these things
the history that they knew
to pave them into forever
across the teachings they've imbued
and how I've not forgotten,
as a young boy I've listened so
to these tales that they had told me
so my own embrace their echo
from a lynx that captured a goose
to find it was of great power
but denounced all the things he knew
that had laced a life alone
into whatever it was that came
and for every time he tied
his foolishness deep in shame
my elders told me of these things
the history that they knew
to pave them into forever
across the teachings they've imbued
and how I've not forgotten,
as a young boy I've listened so
to these tales that they had told me
so my own embrace their echo
______________________________________________________________________________
"One spring, near Lake Winnipeg, a single snow goose appeared high in the air. It glided down on a smaller lake and swam to shore. Nearby and quietly, a lynx crouched as the wind shifted on the goose's scent into his nose. For a brief moment, the goose lifted his head, listening. But before it could rise again safely, the lynx had it in his teeth. The lynx feasted down to bones and feathers. Then, just as he began to crack a bone for marrow, a man called out and the lynx was quick into the trees. Only artifacts of the goose remained, but among them, the man found a bone said to protect the heart--a "wishing bone." He examined it slowly. Later, he found that the bone was a tool of metamorphosis, which allowed him to become a "trickster" capable of wishing things into existence, and himself into various situations." -- A Swampy Cree tale as told by Jacob Nibenegenesabe and Samuel Makidemewabe.
Popular Posts
-
mesmerized, i'm lost in a dream where she stands against the midnight sky her breath... betrayed by how the touch of winte...
-
you are the sun, i am the moon, we'll never touch we'll never know the beauty of a kiss i'll never know what it may be to mi...
-
My belovéd I am within a void if not with the inspiration of your soul, without the very essence that is you. I have only recently discov...
-
you've crawled beyond those shadows then revealed your desolate soul to me wailing, wailing those overwhelming three words for ...
-
deprived of the enshrouding night a reckoning of sorts slips through my fingers 'breathe' whispers my heart...'breathe' ...
-
i sense your grace and it goes away my heart can take no more will you be there the day i need you the most for the beauty you hold,...
-
such silence instills within and summons me to beckon you; oh, you who are seldom coy to the fact that discretion is a barr...
-
Love is the pistol in the guise of pure lust Fired in the name of a desolate soul She said that she would always be there for us Th...
-
we're together grazing the asphalt you taught me how to destroy my every dream... how to die with passion through each turning lie...
-
a flight throughout a comely dream with one who held me once before deep in reformative serenity and drenched in love forevermore guid...

1 comment:
Fascinating! You should write more about your culture.
Post a Comment