We are birds in the Ojibwe sky — a poem

Rain is falling on thirsty ground
This parched soul is soaking in its grace
Water and place

Ears opening to ancestors’ stories
Ancestors I didn’t know have me

Eyes learning to see beyond Westerner’s sky
The Big Dipper is a fisher
who freed summer’s birds
from ogres
that penned in our imagination
Their heavily guarded walls
blocked us from seeing the Enough
all around and within

Today, I will make gooseberry jam
I never, before, saw the emerald and amethyst earrings
dangling from branches
covered with thorns and green goose feet
Now, I see see them everywhere
tangling with juniper, sumac and wild grapes

It makes ogres angry
when we behold
beyond their façade
It makes them scared
We see the nothing inside their shiny box
their ark of broken covenants

The fisher’s claws and the beaks
we remember we have
tear through their net
and we fill the sky
Wings dancing on rain drops
Creator’s names
our song
bursting from a diversity of syrinx

Now, we descend onto branches
of maple, aspen and oak
sending more rain to the soil below
and we wait with wonder
as the table that was always there
welcomes us
again and again and again

Landing gently on softening grass
Mouths watering
We thank our Earth Mother
and raspberry and nettle
for their love
which will will soon taste
on our bird tongues

When our bellies our full
and we’ve rested
we’ll give ourselves to the wind again
The seeds in our scat
will germinate in the cracks
of ogre concrete
and
grace on grace
some of them, too, will
taste this freedom
They’ll be converted
by the lemony crunch of purslane
They’ll begin to see the sacred
they thought they commanded
is the air we breathe
are the trees in which we nest
are the stories we didn’t know
were circling above
on the Ojibwe sky

••••

P.s., I hope this poem finds you still wet from the rain. Just a quick word on summer plans for Intertwine. We are resting from regular gatherings, resisting the urge to rush back into “busy” as pandemic wanes. A sabbath of sorts.

We hope you will practice ways of being still, saying no (and yes when you are moved), and listening deeply to what the Spirit and emerging future are bringing to your life — the ways you will know care — the care you will be called to offer.

Over the summer, we will host a few fun outdoor community gatherings (including a RIVER FLOAT & BBQ on July 18). As we move into fall and harvest time, we’ll host a series of Dinner Seshes, where we’ll listen and wonder together, discerning how we get to evolve and be community coming out of this portal called pandemic.

In the meantime, we’ll continue sharing weekly reflections on Gospel of Thomas logia, and we’ll be putting together an Intertwine Community Directory so folx can connect as you feel moved. (Get your hair permed. Put on your matching outfits, and take a selfie against a blue textured background!)

Don’t hesitate to reach out, share invitations, or offer a poem or piece to inspire.

Until we fold one another in massive post-pandemic hugs,

peace and breath