November

Holy Stick

Around the fire

Sacred mountain sage

Wafting up and into

The gathered pilgrims

Seeking a new

Connection to deeper truth –

How does one breathe it in

Without first letting go?

 

Coyote Skywater, the elder,

Grandmother,

As Pueblo tradition holds,

Hands me the Talking Stick.

No one but the holder

Is allowed to speak.

She cautions all to listen, and to me –

“Even your ancestors are listening, White Owl,

So speak to them first.

 

Overwhelmed by silence and this sacred listening,

Searching my mind for perfect words,

My heart takes over.

Unable to speak

This Holy Stick

Sticking my tongue to my pallet

Like to a frozen flagpole,

A moan issues without beckoning

As I grasp the stick and weep.

 

I wonder,

Is it true that I have never

Been given this honor –

To be truly heard?

Surely, having been heard like this

Has taught me to listen.

© 2015 Bessie Adams Senette

Inspired by Meinrad Craighead”s “The Litany of the Great River”

Original collage by Bessie Senette