gathering rites | Songs Who Sing



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gathering rites
the women gathered
  from Cape Fox to Xingu to mid-points of mystery
changing history in unnoticed ways, in unrecorded parts of red Mother Earth
timing their ceremonies to Grandmother Moon, setting places for Creation’s faces:
    Corn Woman, Pipe Woman, Buffalo-Calf Woman, Morning Star Woman
Spirit Bird Woman and the Old Stone Woman whose wrinkles are canyons
the women gathered
  berries, roots, fruits of the season, bypassing the poison, the bitter, the green
digging snake root and ironwood for good sweats and sleep
wild onions, just tender for healing and feasting
clouds and smoke and moonlight and sunrays
and sighs and death rattles and baby’s breath
and woman’s sage, just the color of dawn
sharp-eyed, strong-armed, dirt under nails work
the women gathered
poles and nets and wetweeds for fishing, jumping salmon over salmon, struggling upstream
running the short run against the tide, with hemp and seaweed and soft rope, no hooks
hard work of holding and clubbing and landing
the long walk back to the river’s mouth, longer and slower when empty-handed
professional women’s work, this hunting and fishing
the women gathered
 

’round graves in the ground, ’neath the trees, near the water
dancing in circles describing their grief
wailing, remembering, laughing and singing
songs of the first and finest deeds
songs of condolence and duty and life
songs of forgive me, I want to live
songs so sweet that the rocks shake and weep
songs so strong they are buried, forgotten

the women gathered
to weave a rug, a roof, a hammock, a blanket
spiderwomen spinning memories and visions
with wool and wise words and the sexiest of stories
explosions of patterns and local color for regal occasions, some for the tourists
birch bark for baskets and sweet grass and ash
and bad-tasting berries for hang-downs and paints
and horse hair and cat tails and mourners’ braids
and eagle-bone whistles and porcupine quills
and tiger’s teeth and red driftwood cedar, with secret sea faces
and feathers and fluffs and sashes and leggings
for dancing, for praying, for praising, for giving
the women gathered
  much from hushed conversations, in corridors of power where their presence was strange
constrained responses to open questions answered more than answers would say
they gathered news from the radio, from gun shots, from screams
stories from headlines and frontlines, between and behind lines
they gathered the children and sisters and mothers
their faces told more than they meant to reveal
the women gathered    
women gathered men gathered children gathered mothers gathered fathers
    gathered pasts gathered futures gathered strength gathered women
gathered time in a bundle and hurled it at the sun
  and the sun rained time for the women to gather together, time after time
         
        --suzan shown harjo
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© Suzan Shown Harjo.  Do not circulate or distribute without permission.