Poetry
ode:ka’
It’s burning
We often sit by fires,
here inside a ring of stone
These rocks left by glaciers,
older than life.
The heat of each new bonfire teases out fissures
Large boulders melt into smaller stones.
Rain comes and lichen grow,
slowly munching rock
leaving behind dust.
Rain comes
Seeds drop.
And we have a burn ban in New York State.
The title of this poem is in the language of the Seneca, one of the six tribal members of the Haudenosaunee Confederacy. Its English translation is “it’s burning.”
I wrote this in our Wordsmiths’ Weekly workshop. The prompt was “fire.”
In reply to those asking how to pronounce the title —
Seneca language dictionary and pronunciation guide
Susan received a degree in Global Indigenous Knowledge Systems, the first of its kind to be conferred in New York State by SUNY Empire State University. She graduated summa cum laude.
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